Tackle (Bad Boy Billionaire Sports Romance)

"Turn the vibrator on, Cassie," he orders, and when I do, it sends a wave of arousal through me that relaxes everything, and he's inside me.

The sensation of being completely filled up, the vibrator in my pussy and his cock in my ass, is almost too much to take. It's like he flips the "on" switch, waking up every single cell in my body, because every inch of me feels like it's more sensitive than it's ever been.

"Yes," I moan, encouraging him as he begins to fuck me, his movements slow and steady, his hands on my ass pulling me against him as he eases deeply inside me. It doesn't take me long to adjust to him, and then he's thrusting inside me with slow steady strokes — the way he knows I like it — bringing me higher and higher until I'm close to the edge.

He says something unintelligible, his hands gripping my hips, and by that point I'm so far gone that I can hardly think.

"More," I beg, because I can't string together a sentence or say anything else, not when he has me so close to oblivion.

"Mine," he groans, and I realize that's what he was saying before, and the word immediately sends a rush of arousal through me from my head to my toes.

"Yours," I moan. "Yours, Colton King. All of me."

"Mine."

He thrusts inside me, and I don't hold back, because I can't. I'm screaming his name, my eyes clenched as my orgasm washes over my body, a tidal wave that eclipses anything else. I feel Colton's large hands grip my hips as his body convulses. He calls out my name and unleashes everything he has inside me.

Afterwards, Colton lies on his back in the bed and I lie nestled in the crook of his arm, my heart still thumping loudly. He doesn't say anything for a while and I listen for the deep sound of his breathing. It's already eight o' clock and he's usually out like a light pretty early, with all of the training he's doing.

But there's no snoring. He squeezes my ass cheek and presses me tighter against him. "I'm glad it's been you," he murmurs.

I roll over on my stomach, pulling my arms up on his chest so I can look at him. He looks exactly the same as the day I stood in front of him at that pool party — except for a couple of errant strands of grey hair at his temple, but I pretend not to notice them because he totally freaked out the first time he saw one. He's only thirty, but his dad went grey early, and when I told him he was a sexy old man, he didn't talk to me for the rest of the afternoon.

"What do you mean?" I ask, tracing the outline of his pecs with my fingers, the hard edges of his muscles that get slightly less defined during off-season, and think about how damn lucky I am.

"Just…all of this," he murmurs, his eyes meeting mine. "I don't take it for granted, you know. I'm a kid from East Texas who grew up dirt poor on a farm and now we're… here. I'm lucky and so grateful."

My eyes flicker over the bedroom in our home. After Colton's insane first contract, we decided we weren't going to buy some crazy monstrosity of a house and luxury cars that cost more than some peoples' homes. Colton still drives his dad's pickup truck. Granted, he's done a lot of work to restore it to pristine condition, and it's really a thing of beauty. The first house we bought was this little postage-stamp sized place that was just big enough for the two of us. Then I got pregnant with the twins, and we knew we'd have to buy a bigger house, but Colton insisted he didn't want a place that was so big we'd never see each other.

I'm not letting you grow apart from me, he'd said.

So we got a huge piece of land and a medium-sized house. This place has been our home for the past six years. We built Doreen a house on the property, when she finally agreed to move here four years ago. Nana K. thinks there's nothing on earth better than her grandbabies. That goes for Drew and Beth's kids too. Drew got a contract to play for a baseball team in Japan and they've been living there for three years now.

I'm pretty sure we're the luckiest people on earth.

"I'm glad it's you I've gotten to share this life with," he says, kissing me on the forehead. "I can't imagine it with anyone else but you."

"Right back at you," I say, kissing him on the chest and nuzzling back into the crook of his arm.

We lay there for a few minutes before Colton lets out a giant sigh. "Are you worried about the kids?"

I don't even try to hide my laughter. Colton has perfected the art of being an overprotective daddy. When another kid at kindergarten pushed Adam off of a swing a couple of months ago, I had to threaten Colton with no sex to keep him from going crazy at the kids' school. "I'm more worried the four of them have duct-taped Sable and Jonathan to chairs and are plotting their escape. Do you want to call them?"

"Just to say goodnight."

I'm dialing before he even finishes the sentence.

"Shouldn't Cole be knee-deep in your muff by now?" is the first thing Sable asks. No hello.

"You're on speaker," I inform her.