Page 124 of Big Dick Energy

I gripped her hips and rolled us both in one fluid motion. She gasped as she found herself on her hands and knees, me looming behind her. I ran a possessive hand from the small of her back down over her ass, spreading her cheeks. The new angle was deeper, more primal. I plunged into her from behind, and she cried out.

I fisted one hand in her hair, not cruelly, but with absolute authority, and I tugged. Her head pulled back, arching her spine, forcing her ass higher into the air, opening her to me completely. I slammed into her, over and over, each thrust jolting through her entire body.

“Touch yourself,” I commanded, my voice a dark, ragged whisper. “I want to feel you come around me while you play with yourself. Do it. Now.”

Her hand snaked down between her legs, her fingers finding her swollen clit. She was so close, I could feel it in the way her walls fluttered around me. She circled the needy nub, matching the rhythm of my powerful thrusts.

“That's it,” I groaned, watching her, my thrusts becoming even more frenzied. “I love watching you fuck yourself on my cock. You're so fucking beautiful like this. Mine. All mine.”

The combination was too much for her. Her orgasm ripped through her, a silent scream trapped in her throat for a moment before it exploded out of her in a raw, shattered cry. Her inner muscles clenched around me, milking my cock in violent, rhythmic pulses.

The sensation tore my own release from me. With a roar that was pure triumph, I drove into her one last, final time, burying myself to the hilt as I came, my body shuddering violently against hers. I held her tightly by the hair and the hip, pumping my hot release deep inside her with each throbbing pulse.

We collapsed forward together, my body a heavy weight against her back. For a long moment, we didn’t move or speak.

I pressed my lips to her shoulder blade. Then her spine and then the curve of her neck.

I rolled us onto our sides, still holding her, her back tucked against my chest, her heartbeat gradually steadying beneath my palm. The wreckage of half-packed bags and scattered clothes surrounded us like debris from a storm that had already passed.

“Hey.” I pressed my mouth to the back of her head. “Still with me?”

She let out a long, shaky exhale. “Yeah.” A pause. “I'm with you.”

I tightened my arm around her waist and pulled her closer, until there was no space left between us.

“Dallas.”

“Mm.”

She turned in my arms until she was facing me. She studied my face like she was memorizing it. “I should have called you,” she said quietly. “Before I believed any of it. I should have just called you.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “You should have.”

She blinked, clearly expecting something gentler than that.

“And the next time someone shows up at our house with a story about what I did or didn't say,” I continued, brushing a strand of hair from her face, “you call me. First. Before you pack a single sock.”

“Okay.” She settled her head against my chest.

I kissed the top of her head and held her while our breathing evened out and the adrenaline finally drained away.

Right now, there was only this. Davina warm against me in the afternoon light. Her fingers laced through mine. The soft, steady rise and fall of her breathing.

I looked at the ceiling and felt the last knot in my chest finally come loose.

CHAPTER 37

FIRED

DALLAS

Sam's office occupied the top floor of a glass-and-steel tower in downtown Tampa. All white marble and sharp angles and a reception desk that looked like it had been carved from a single block of imported Italian stone.

I'd been here a hundred times, but today, it felt different.

Today, I wanted to put my fist through the wall.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime. The receptionist, a young woman with perfect posture and a headset that probably cost more than my first car, looked up and smiled.