Then he was on me. Hungry. His firm, probing fingers found my ribcage, and hoisted me onto the lip of the sink in one swift move. His mouth attached itself to my neck, clasping and sucking on my throat for dear life. “Sweet...fuck,” I murmured, into the thatch of his already-sweaty hair. Then I remembered. We should probably be quiet.

But if Landon cared at all about any Derby patrons overhearing us, he didn't indicate this to me. Instead, his movements became more rapid. He peeled one hand off my waist and reached up to squeeze my tit, so hard I was sure he'd leave marks. I arched my back against his chest, and he swept his hand across me like a towel, landing his fingers in the crest of my jeans. He pushed up sharply against my mound, sending a spasm of premature pleasure through my lower back. Once again, joy arrived in my throat. “Yes,” I gasped, digging my fingers into the back of his head, where his hair joined the nape of his neck. “Oh, fuck yes. Touch me. Please, baby.”

Landon didn't waste any time. His fingers were shaking as they struggled against the buttons of my jeans, but once he'd eased the zipper down, his confidence multiplied. He shimmied a hand down past the elastic line of my panties, pausing to rummage around in the thatch of my pubis for a second before sliding a finger across my wetness. His fingers shook again. He groaned. “You're so fucking wet,” he cried, voice almost angry. I felt my pussy clench at his words. Then, Landon looked up, with a new glimmer in his eye. “I have to taste you.”

I barely nodded assent before he was dragging my pants off from the ankles, falling to kneel on the bathroom floor. I no longer thought about where we were, or the world outside (with its commands, its many nuisances...) there was only the perfect now. My ass was cold against the sink, but Landon's paws scooted me forward again so I kept one foot on the ground. Ever the gentleman, he'd managed to take my pants off while I kept my wedges on.

He shot me a look of pure marvel from the ground as his big, strong hands began to rove around my naked lower half. He drew back and gazed at me. I felt like a statue. He smiled, then arched a mischievous eyebrow. I leaned my head back with anticipation. Sweat was pooling in my collarbone already.

Landon's lips were soft and sweet on my thigh, yet even the slightest contact sent a jolt of electricity across the map of my body. He made a path of kisses, moving from the inside of my knee up across the milky white expanse of my leg. When he reached the crevice where my folds began, he kissed deeper. I might have exploded from sensation—I'd lost track of what was holding me together. He worked his open mouth across my pelvis and then lightly flicked his tongue across my damp clit.

“Godddddd,” I moaned. I no longer cared who heard us.

His tongue began to move in rapid swirls, pressing up against my spongey surface like I was the ocean floor. I began to rock my hips in rhythm against his face. He drew me closer, burying his palms in my ass. He opened his mouth wider, the better to drink me—then, as I hovered on the edge of ecstasy, he jerked one hand away from my back side and slid three fingers into my tight, soaking-wet pussy.

“Fuck me,” I groaned again, driving my hand further into his hair, drawing him forward. “Oh, baby, you're so good. Fuck me.” Landon's fingers moved in and out of me, tilting expertly against my G-spot. I exhaled, and found myself in a locked state—he was working faster and faster, sucking and pressing, pulling and driving—I no longer knew where I was. I just knew that I was going to come. And harder than I ever had.

“You taste so fucking good,” Landon gasped, drawing his mouth away from me for one torturous second. He returned with one long, exquisite lap of my pussy, dexterous tongue pausing on my clit. He pressed his fingers in and up to the hilt. I widened my stance on the bathroom floor, pushed my palm against the back of his head, and felt myself release. My whole body spasmed. For a second, I saw only color and light—no shapes. And just when I thought it had passed, Landon nudged against my insides again, stuffing me full. I came again, almost on top of the previous orgasm. I clutched at my swinging breasts for something to hold on to. I felt my thighs run slick with expelled juice. I suddenly longed for pillows, for collapse.

I was still panting and weak when Landon began to rotate my hips, so I was facing the mirror. I tried not to look at my face, which was red and runny with make-up—so I fixed my gaze on him. In the mirror, I watched him yank down his pants, producing that beautiful, thick cock. Yet again, he was rock hard. I tilted my head, so I could watch him slide inside of me. I was still throbbing with the aftershock of my orgasm, and tingled on contact—but he placed a soothing palm on my back, guiding my hips. I was so soaking wet he slipped inside easily, groaning. A peaceful smile settled across his face.

“Jesus, Ashleigh,” he said to the ceiling. “You have the most beautiful pussy. Oh, fuck me.” To egg him on, I leaned forward and rammed back against him, dragging my body along his shaft. He bared his teeth with pleasure.

“Oh, yeah? You want some of this hard cock?”

I smiled, and decided to play along. What was a little dirty talk, if two people felt it in the moment?

“Oh, yes, baby. Give me that big hard cock. Give it to me like I've been bad.” Landon's eyes took on that mischievous glow again, and he leaned forward so as to grab one of my tits. His back arched, he began to rock against me, filling me up with each elegant thrust. We found a gentle rhythm off the bat, but I knew it wouldn't last. I was filling up with want all over again. Every time he left me, I felt hungrier for his member.

I rammed harder against him. Landon arched an eyebrow, caught my eye in the mirror, then reached back and slapped my ass. The shock of fresh pain coincided with a perfect thrust.

“Yeah? You like that? Bad girl?” Without thinking about it, I found myself nodding. I did like it. I wanted to be spanked and fucked. Steeling myself against the lip of the sink, I met his eyes in the mirror and nodded.

He rammed me harder. He pushed in and out, in and out, beginning to fuck me senseless. My head bobbed forward like a rag doll, my tits swung back and forth in the low light. Landon slapped my ass with each hard thrust, humping me like there was no tomorrow. I watched his face become a rictus, an almost frightening mask of unmitigated desire. I knew he was about to explode when he dragged his hand back across my body and began to nuzzle this thumb against the exposed bean of my ass.

“Oh, Ashleigh,” he cried, bending over my damp body. I felt like a plucked string—I was vibrating with joy, all over my body. “I love you. I love you so much.”

With a final, perfect, whimper, I felt Landon clench and tighten inside me—then release. The steam of our love had fogged up the space. It was humid. Sounds of the bar began to trickle back in, as if they'd been paused during our fucking.

His words hung in the air, too. Ashleigh, I love you.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Landon

September 27^th

It was the day of the big Baylor game.

Clay and I were the first in the locker room, goodie goodies that we were. Or more like, goodie goodie that he was– I was simply making a pathetic, final attempt to convince my teammates that I was reliable. Even though I'd missed a voluntary drill the night before, because I'd been spending the night in with Ashleigh. Even though I'd had my head up my ass for a full two weeks, because I was so high on the girl who was technically my step-sister.