Roughly bucking up into her, a deep groan escaped my lips, my jaw going slack as I unloaded deep into her pussy. “You look gorgeous coming on my cock and taking my cum.”
She whimpered, and for a long moment, both of us were frozen in position, just breathing heavily and staring into each other’s eyes.
“Holy shit, that was intense,” she moaned, completely spent now.
I stroked her side gently. “You did so well.”
“Now I know why I always make you do the work,” she breathed, and I chuckled.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
As we settled back into bed, the sheets still tangled around us and her hand rested over his chest, I breathed in her delicious scent mixed with my own, a deep contentment filling my chest.
My lips brushed over her shoulder. “Still want to run?”
I could hear the smile in her voice. “Ask me again tomorrow.”
Forty Five
Epilogue: Dom/Sierra
Five years later…
Dom
The sun had already disappeared behind the horizon, but the sky was painted in soft shades of orange and pink. A stark contrast to the white facade of the villa the reception was being held at.
String lights were already twinkling in the twilight, a canopy over the open-air dance floor.
In the background, the turquoise water of a pool glimmered, and the sound of our guests — most of whom were already tipsy — dancing and laughing together could be heard.
I watched Sierra from across the patio. She was barefoot now, her white gown hitched up a little, and she was glowing with happiness.
She looked as if she belonged in the spotlight. Not just tonight, but in every stadium and arena she’d ever dreamed of. I’d always known she was mine. But seeing her now, radiant and free, felt like salvation.
Like everything we’d fought for had led us here.
It hadn’t been easy getting here.
I thought about the San Francisco Guardians, the team that drafted me not long after Sierra signed her first pro contract with the Los Angeles Sirens — a team that fit perfectly into our California life.
Even before my NFL draft day, though, I’d followed her west, finishing my degree at a nearby college and carving out a place for us both.
The photographer tapped me on the shoulder and explained that she was about to pack up.
I pulled her aside and gave her murmured instructions, a devilish grin playing on my lips. “Just keep snapping.Don’tstop.”
Sierra, meanwhile, was still laughing with our friends, completely unaware.
Knowing she might castrate me for this, but taking my chances anyway, I strode up to her, grabbing her by the waist.
She jumped, startled, and laughed up at me, “What are you—”
“Trust me,” I whispered, my head bowed, so my lips brushed against the shell of her ear.
Not giving anything else away, I cleared the distance to the pool in a few long strides, carrying her bridal-style, and jumped.
No hesitation. No regrets.
