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WREN
“Morning, sexy.” Tatum’s sleepy rasp sent shivers down my spine. His hands worked their way up the flat of my stomach, pushing up the t-shirt that I had pilfered from his drawer.
His mouth latched onto the crook of my neck, teeth nipping at sensitive skin, then soothing the bite with gentle laps of his tongue. I groaned in delight. My mind was fighting for the last vestiges of sleep, but my body was already humming, primed, and ready to go.
It was too early, even for me. Tatum had to report to the facilities at an ungodly hour for practice before their next playoff game. Today I had to head down to Warwick to stage a property that was about to go on the market. A box truck from my favorite rental company would be waiting for me in a few hours. I’d throw on a pair of leggings, a sweatshirt, lace up my sneakers, and pack my pencil skirt and sweater for the office in a garment bag.
Colette was expecting an answer from me about New York in two weeks.
In two weeks—if the next playoff game went their way—Tatum would be playing in the championships. He had been spending every waking hour at the stadium, working out, and watching film with the boys. I had come home from work one day and found Tatum and Seth on the couch, pouring over the playbook.
Home.
I hadn’t officially moved into the penthouse, but I hadn’t slept at my place since Tatum was released from the hospital. Tatum had been preoccupied with the team, but every morning, he woke me up with heated kisses over every inch of my body. Before we went to sleep, there was an expectation of orgasms for us both. Tatum claimed it helped with the stress. I didn’t care what his reasoning was; I just knew that I was addicted to him.
“Want me to start the coffee maker?” I murmured, rolling over and burying my face in his chest.
“Not yet,” he growled as he dug his fingers into the flesh of my thighs. “I need your help.”
I crooked an eyebrow. “Help?”
Without another warning, Tatum ripped the covers back. I shrieked at the flood of cool air. “Need you to help push my lung capacity. It’ll give me more endurance.”
“Wha—”
Tatum grabbed my waist and, with his inhumanly strong arms, hauled me up the bed. “Sit on my face.”
“Tay, I—” My words were cut off by a squeal as Tatum bit the inside of my thigh.
“Don’t argue with me. Sit on my fucking face. I’m going to devour you, Little Bird.”
He held onto my ass cheeks and sealed his mouth around my pussy. Tatum growled as he circled my clit with the tip of his tongue, teasing every nerve. My thighs trembled as I tried my best to stay upright. Sweat pricked at the back of my neck, short gasps of breath catching in my throat.
Tatum reached between my legs and slid two fingers into my core. His mouth pulled away, chin glistening with a sheen of my wetness. “I told you to fucking sit, love. Now do it.”
I whimpered as he crooked those thick fingers, pulling me down onto him from the inside. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You can’t break me, Little Bird, but I can break you. I’m going to make you come so many times your legs will barely carry you from here to the door. Every step you take today, every time you sit—you’ll feel wrecked inside from what I’m about to do to you.” He sucked my clit between his lips, then bit down hard. I screamed as an orgasm came out of nowhere and slammed into me. I lost my grip on the headboard and collapsed on top of him. “Fuck yes,” Tatum growled into my pussy. “That’s what I want. Stay like that.” His words were muffled as he licked, sucked, and bit like he was wolfing down his last meal.
Heat and mounting ecstasy boiled from my extremities and pooled in my core. “Tay—” It was somewhere between a gasp and a whine. Another climax was racing through me, about to peak. I felt weightless. Limitless. My thighs clamped around his head as I held on for dear life.
“Again,” he barked.
Adrenaline leached from my body. The crash hit as hard as the high. “Tatum—” I gasped.
“Give me another one. You taste fucking amazing.”
I hunched forward, chest heaving. “You’re insane.”
“You make me that way.” He teased my clit with the tip of his tongue, then pushed the hood back. Each lap of his tongue sent piercing shockwaves ricocheting through my limbs. I screamed.
Tatum’s hands wrapped around my thighs, massaging them as he worked his way to my ass. I whimpered as his thumb rimmed the tight ring of muscle. His head thrashed back and forth as he drove his tongue into my pussy. His hands squeezed my ass cheeks, fingers digging into the swells of flesh. Tatum guided me up and down his mouth, forcing me to ride him like a cowgirl.
His grunts and groans spurred me on. He acted like I was the best goddamn thing he’d ever tasted.
The third orgasm drew up slowly, but hit with the force of a jet plane careening straight to the ground. By the time I caught my breath, Tatum was flinging me across the bed. He grabbed my ankles and yanked my ass to the edge, driving into my pussy with one fell swoop.
“Fuck,” Tatum choked out. “You’re soaked. I can still feel those little flutters of you coming off your orgasm.” He grabbed my calf and pushed, extending my leg up and back, resting by the side of my head as he held it in a split. The angle of penetration was other-worldly. “I love seeing you like this. I love seeing you spread open for me. I love watching my cock stretch your tight little pussy. You’re so fucking perfect, Little Bird. Made just for me.”
