Stealing Home: A Reverse Grumpy-Sunshine College Sports Romance (Beyond the Play Book 3)

Stealing Home: A Reverse Grumpy-Sunshine College Sports Romance: Chapter 34



SEBASTIAN’S LIPS crash against mine with the force of full tide. My fingers bunch in his shirt, pulling it up; he practically rips it off his body. I drag my hands down the hard line of his abs, settling on the waistband of his jeans. He raises an eyebrow in a silent question, and I nod. I want him here, in the grass, with the breeze on our bare skin and the stars winking above.

“Guess we should stay out here for a while longer anyway,” he murmurs. I laugh as he tugs off my shirt and bra. “Shit might get awkward otherwise.”

“Hopefully we don’t flash anyone else tonight.”

He snorts as he scoops me into his arms. “I still can’t believe that happened.”

I crane my neck around. “Where are we going?”

“It’s grassier over here.” He sets me down, then stretches out alongside me. I breathe in the cool air. It’s scented with the wild thicket of honeysuckle by the fence. He spreads his hand over my belly, a warm weight that sends heat to all the right places. “Wanna make sure you’re comfortable.”

I shiver as he dips his fingertip into my belly button. “How is your pinkie?”

His lips brush over one of my nipples, taut in the cool air. “I think we’ll manage.”

I arch my back as he sucks on my breast, my skin sparking in his wake. He inches his hand lower, to my skirt. When he lifts his head, his hair falls into his eyes; I push it back, my hand curving over his jaw. He turns his face into it, pressing a quick kiss to my palm. He drags his finger over the skin just above my skirt, making me clench my stomach.

“Hips up for me, angel.”

My heart skips a beat as I raise my hips. He pulls down my skirt and panties all at once, groaning when he sees my cunt, already slick. The air on my exposed skin makes me shiver, but his touch is so warm, so perfect, that it’s worth it.

“Good girl,” he says, a rough edge to his voice. He rubs his knuckles over my folds. “Wish we had a blanket.”

I laugh as I reach up and pull him into another kiss. The brush of his fingers against my clit, already swollen and begging for attention, makes me gasp. “We’ll just have to have round two in the shower.”

“What a drag,” he says, grinning against my mouth.

I bite his jaw. “I want you.”

“You have me.”

“You know what I mean.” I tangle my fingers through his hair and tug. “The way we haven’t had it since before.”

He reaches between us and unbuttons his jeans, kicking them down his legs. “I don’t have a condom out here.”

I stroke my hand over the sizable bulge in his boxer-briefs. I’m aching with the bone-deep desire to feel him—not his fingers, or his tongue, but him—deep inside, pressing against places I can’t touch myself. I want him to come inside me, claiming me in the most primal way. “I have an IUD. And I tested negative last time I checked.”

“I did too.” He makes a satisfied noise as I squeeze his cock. “You sure you’re good with it?”

My heart swoops in my chest. I don’t know the exact moment I started to free-fall, but one way or another, I went over the edge. Another person would gloss over the particulars—and I’ve experienced that—but Sebastian takes it in stride. Checking in like this is fucking sexy. It’s part of his personality, not an act or something he feels obligated to do. I pull his cock out of his boxer-briefs and give it another firm stroke, swiping my thumb over the head. He’s nearly all the way hard, thick and throbbing. I nod, pressing a quick, dry kiss to his cheek.

The edge of his mouth quirks up. “Use your words.”

The little push is just enough to make me flush. “I’m good with it. Fuck me, babe, come on.”

That must satisfy him, because he pulls off the rest of his clothes and settles over me, caging me in with his strong arms. I stretch, luxuriating in his warmth as he palms my tits, his other hand slipping down to play with my clit again. He tugs at the groomed hair between my legs, making me gasp.

“It’s so easy to wind you up,” he teases. “I love that about you.”

He spares me from thinking of an answer to that by kissing me deeply, our tongues tangling together. He nudges my legs further apart, pressing two fingers against my hole as he strokes my clit. I’m slick enough that they go in easily. A moan escapes my throat. He knows my body so well that it doesn’t take much to get me dripping, pressing my hips to his, a torrent of begging on the tip of my tongue. It’s never been better than with him, and it’s never been better than this—right here, under the canopy of stars and the hidden moon, his dick pressing against my thigh as he handles my body like his favored glove. He crooks his fingers, and I gasp, digging my foot into his side. My nails drag down his arm, leaving a long line of red.

It’s fully dark now, but light glows from the house, enough that I can see the white of his teeth, the green of his eyes. He keeps rubbing that spot against my core until I’m right on the fucking edge, trembling as I pant. Whatever chill I felt in the air is gone, turned molten. His thumb swipes at my clit as he presses a third finger into my dripping core.

I come so loudly, I slap a hand over my mouth. He shakes with laughter, and in the next second, I dissolve into giggles too. He pulls out his fingers, replacing them with his cock before I have a chance to protest, then pushes in with one long, smooth stroke. He hitches my leg around his hip, deepening the angle.

Our gazes meet. He wets his lip, thrusting experimentally. I squeeze tightly around him, dragging a groan from his throat. He thrusts again, harder this time, and builds up a rhythm. For a moment I can’t breathe, can’t tease, can’t do a thing but take it. He strokes one broad hand through my hair, tangling it around his fist. I smell his cologne, but also the delicious tang of his sweat.

“You’re mine,” he whispers.

It feels so right, tears well in my eyes again. When one escapes, he licks it away, claiming me in yet another way. It’s filthy, and it makes me grin.

“Yours,” I whisper back. “Show me, Sebastian.”

He shakes his head like he can’t believe it. I barely can either. If I think about it too hard, I start to spiral. The only thing to do is not think at all. To stay in the present, and hope the future is kind. At my urging, he snaps his hips forward, sinking even deeper. I squeeze around him as tightly as I can, making each thrust extra tortuous for him.

He drops his head down, letting out a possessive growl as he comes. My heart fucking soars at the sound. He pulls me into his arms, rolling us onto our sides, and buries his head in the crook of my shoulder. The thought of his seed inside me, claiming my body the way he’s already claiming my soul, makes me whimper. I want him to paint me inside and out, over and over. I want to leave marks on him too, bites and scratches and enough lipstick kisses that no one will dare look at him twice.

His next words are so quiet, I nearly miss them.

“My angel.” He kisses my pulse, squeezing me tight. I squeeze back, tight enough I know he feels it. “My good fucking angel.”


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