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She wore only stockings, purple sheer panties, and a demi-cup bra that did lip-smacking things to her breasts, judging from how he stared. Cocking his head, he flipped the stick in his hand then lowered the wider end of the cue to her shoulder, touching her bare skin ever so slightly. “I’ll start here,” he said, then ran it along her arm, tracing a gentle path to her wrist. “Then kiss your wrist.”

“Like you did the night you met me,” she said, her skin heating up as he bent his head to her hand and placed a soft, sweet kiss that both sent her back in time and rooted her right here, right now.

“Then, I’d pay a visit to those lovely legs of yours,” he said, and brushed the end of the cue from her knees to her ankles and back up the other leg. When he reached the top of her thigh, he gently nudged her legs apart, inch by inch.

Scooting back on the table, she rested on her elbows, giving him a view of her bra, panties, stockings and shoes.

“Your belly,” he murmured as the cue strayed along her stomach, then up to one of his favorite parts of her. “Those delicious breasts,” he said, licking his lips as he stroked a line through her cleavage then darted back down to her waist, tracing along the waistband of her panties. She murmured, and even though being touched by a pool cue was not the same as this man’s touch, she still grew hotter.

Then she burned when he brought the cue to the side of her ass, and whacked her lightly with it. She gasped and moaned, loving the way he knew precisely when to spank her and make her want him even more. “There, too,” he said, then bent his head to kiss her rear.

Loving, too, that he knew when to kiss the spot he’d marked.

When he raised his face, he brought his mouth to her ear. “Spread your legs wide for me.”

Heat raced through her. She let her knees fall open, savoring the reaction in his eyes when he stared at the scrap of La Perla fabric that barely covered her. “And what about here?” she asked curiously, running her hand between her legs.

“I’d play you there so good,” he said, his eyes shining with desire. He followed her with the pool cue, lightly touching her heat, her swollen clit. She arched up, angling for more contact, and he began stroking her with the pool cue. “You like that, beautiful?” he asked, his eyes blazing at her as she rocked into him.

“I’ve told you, Ryan. I love everything you do to me.”

“I’m not even the one doing it.”

“You are,” she said as she unclipped her hair. “You are doing it to me. Only you can touch me like this. Only you can do this to me.”

He stroked faster, rubbing her expertly through her purple panties with the pool cue. Her blond curls spilled behind her on the table, and she let her head fall back as he masturbated her with a pool stick. Like a wooden sex toy that he controlled, it set her on fire. Closing her eyes, she caught a perfect rhythm, like a surfer does a wave, and she rode it, rocking her hot center into the wide end of the pool cue, seeking friction with the wood, until her vision turned black and hazy, and she dug her nails into the green felt, coming in her lingerie on his pool table.

She moaned happily, and opened her eyes to find him stripping. He’d set the pool cue down on the table.

“I think I’m in love with the game of pool now,” she said softly, running a hand along the wood he’d used to get her off.

His eyes blazed darkly. “I’m not done with that,” he said, and her gaze followed him, as he grabbed her hands, lifted them over her head, then pressed the cue into her palms. “Hold it in place. Restrain yourself.”

Sparks sizzled across her skin at his command. She gripped the cue hard over her head, as he tugged off her panties in seconds, leaving her stockings, shoes and bra untouched. Pulling her hips to the edge of the table, he lined her up with his hard cock.

“I have never wanted to fuck you so much,” he said in a growl.

“Take me, wreck me. You can’t ruin me. You can control me all you want. You won’t break me. I’ll still be here,” she said, knowing it was what he needed, and what she wanted, too.

* * *

He slid into her without mercy.

She moaned the second his cock made contact with her heat.

Then he took over for her hands. He gripped the pool cue and clasped his fingers through hers, pinning her with the wood and his weight.

With her restrained like that, flat on her back on his pool table, he fucked her harder and rougher than he ever had before. He didn’t hold back as he held her captive. He slammed into her hot pussy over and over, his beautiful woman writhing and moaning, panting and screaming, and completely and utterly giving herself to him.

Arching up. Meeting him. Inviting him deeper.

His body jolted with each thrust, his heart pumping hard and wild, and this—this pleasure, this harsh fucking wasn’t just control for him. It was a relinquishment, too. He might be restraining her, but in doing so he’d revealed his hand. He’d shown her his cards. They were all for her, every single one turned up Sophie.

“It’s you,” he groaned, and she locked eyes with him, her gaze holding him tight, sending him to another plane of pleasure—one ruled by more than the physical. By the intensity of how he felt for her. By all the love that he saw in her eyes. “It’s all you. I fucking love you so much,” he said as he took her.

“It’s the same for me, Ryan.” Her breathing turned ragged, and her words drove him on. The tension in him rose higher in a fury of passion and love, in a storm of mind-blowing pleasure that spiked in him. Because of how he felt for her, heart, soul, mind and body. He didn’t look away. He simply couldn’t. His eyes were fixed on her the whole time as he took her deeper. Her moans and groans and cries were the sexiest song he’d ever heard, the scent of her skin and the smell of her lust were intoxicating, and the hot, tight grip of her body sent him into a red-hot, fevered frenzy.

He’d never been more turned on, he’d never been harder, and he’d never wanted to come so intensely.

But there was so much more at play than pure desire.

He’d never loved someone like this. He needed more closeness. More connection. No barriers. Nothing but skin and hands and limbs tangled together.

He let go of the stick, then uncurled her fingers from the cue and yanked it away, letting the wood clatter loudly to the floor. “Just you and me,” he said. “Just you and me.”

Instantly, she raised up and flung her arms around him, clutching his back, digging her nails in, and God, fuck, hell, it was unearthly; it was heaven on earth. His arms snaked around her, and he gripped her, pulling her, yanking her, bringing her as close as she could be. On the edge of the pool table their bodies coiled together like flames, consuming each other with wildfire.

He breathed her name, over and over, like a fucking mantra—the woman he adored.

She cried out, shuddering beneath him as she hit the edge, her glorious sounds the key in the ignition that set him off.

The tension inside of him snapped, and he came hard.

They collapsed in a landslide of pants and moans, of groans and grunts.

And also, something else.

Something that felt like peace in her arms, as he gave himself up to whatever this was with Sophie, because it felt as if it had the potential to be the rest of his life.

“Sophie,” he murmured in her ear, as she sighed happily and ran her fingers down his sweat-streaked back. “The way I feel for you is beyond control. And I don’t want that to change.”

Everything else was shifting. Everything else was cracking. She was his one constant.

* * *

She didn’t wake up as he went for a run with his dog. Nor as he showered. And not as he brewed a pot of coffee. She didn’t wake up, either, when Johnny Cash barked happily as Ryan let him take a quick post-run dip in the pool. And she barely rustled as he leaned over her, brushing a soft curl from her sweet, sleepy face to kiss her goodbye.