Page 13 of Tempted
“Fucking hell, you’re a handful.”
“I can be. Want to touch and see how well I fit into your hands?”
He practically shoved me inside my own house—rude, but I’d forgive him just this once—and then pressed me up against the wall, his hands cupping my ass as he kissed down my throat.
His thigh pressed between my legs, and I ground down, panting as he kissed all over my exposed skin. “My room. In case Dex comes back.”
“Huh?” Raising his head, he blinked down at me, all heavy-lidded and lustful. Delicious.
“My housemate. He shouldn’t come back, but?—”
He cut me off with a kiss. “Sorry. Your room?” He didn’t sound sorry, but if it meant more of his mouth on mine, who cared? Talking was overrated.
“This…way…” I gasped in between more kisses, somehow managing to get us both down the hallway and up the stairs. When we reached my bedroom, probably twenty minutes later, I was breathless, Bennett had unbuttoned my shirt all the way down to my navel as well as ridding himself of his hoodie, and I was certain I had a very obvious love bite just beneath my collarbone.
“You’re so fucking tempting.” He pressed up against my back, kissing my neck again as I fumbled with the door handle. Why wouldn’t it open? My dick was so hard it almost hurt, and it felt like he was in a similar state, grinding his erection into my ass as he moaned sexily against my skin.
Finally, I got the door open, and we stumbled into my room, heading straight for the bed. I still didn’t know what he wanted, lost in a haze of lust, but getting horizontal seemed like a good place to start. As we reached the bed, he lifted me, twisting us around. He collapsed back onto the bed, all stretched out beneath me like a tasty snack, and I straddled his thick thighs.
“I like this view very much,” I purred, pushing his T-shirt up so I could feast my eyes on his abs. Running my nail down his muscles and then teasingly over the dark trail of hair that disappeared into his jeans, I watched his pupils dilate, his hands tightening around my hips.
“Take your shirt off,” he commanded hoarsely. “I want to see you.”
“Is that so? Do you want me to see you?”
Rubbing his hand across his face, he groaned. “Yeah, but I have no fucking clue what I’m supposed to be doing here.”
“Why don’t you lie back and let me entertain you?”
When he removed his hand from his face, staring at me with his lips parted and so much heat in his eyes, I unbuttoned the rest of my shirt and then shrugged it off, letting him look his fill. He’d seen me wearing less. In the club, I’d only been wearing booty shorts, but he’d been drunk then, so I wasn’t sure how much he remembered.
His palm slid up my chest, warm against my skin. “Even better in person.”
Things were clicking into place, but I kept my focus on the hot football player I had in my bed, because who knew if or when this would be repeated? “Mmm. You like that, do you? Want more?”
“Yeah.”
My fingers danced over the clasp of my uncomfortably-tight trousers, teasing Bennett just because I knew it would rile him up even further. This was so different from the time we’d kissed in the library. This time, he was all in with zero hesitation.
Bennett’s hand clamped down on mine, making me massage my cock through my trousers, his palm covering the back of my hand. I gasped, and he flashed me the dirtiest fucking grin I’d ever seen, pressing down harder, my hand sliding up and down my length as he moved me where he wanted me. His sudden burst of confidence was so hot it was making my dick throb and leak a ridiculous amount of precum.
“Good?”
“So good,” I confirmed breathlessly. “More.”
Together, we undid my trousers and peeled them off my legs, leaving me in my socks and my favourite sky-blue jock. The material was tented, damp with my precum, and even to my eyes, it looked hot as fuck. I would’ve been tempted to photograph it, but my footballer was far more tempting, hard beneath me, giving me those eyes that gave me both butterflies and a leaking cock.
“What do you think?” I ran a blue-tipped finger down my torso, stopping at the band of my jockstrap.
“Fuuuuck,” he moaned, his hands fisting my sheets as he screwed his eyes closed, the prominent bulge in his jeans making my mouth water. “What’s happening to me?”
I froze on top of him. Was he really into this, or was he uncomfortable? Biting down on my lip, I studied him uncertainly. “Ben? Are you okay? We can slow down, or stop if you want.”
His eyes snapped open, his gaze flying to mine. “No. We’re not fucking stopping, okay?”
Exhaling shakily, I nodded. “Okay. Want to get naked?”
“Yes.” The word was hissed out between gritted teeth, Bennett’s gaze tracking my hand movements as my fingers curled around the hem of his T-shirt. I was still unsure, but I figured that he’d give me cues if he wanted to stop. Even so, I was careful, taking my time, dragging his T-shirt the rest of the way up his body and over his head, and then flicking open the buttons on his jeans. When his tented navy boxer briefs came into full view, also damp with precum, I took a moment to sit back and admire the sight. So much of my FBO content involved showcasing my hard dick without actually showing it, so I was basically a connoisseur. And Bennett’s dick straining in his underwear was gourmet level mouthwatering.