Page 66 of Offensive Plays
“This is even better that I imagined,” he says, echoing the words I said to him.
He pulls out of me and slowly drives back in again. Giving me mere seconds to get used to the feel of him again.
“Ohhhh,” I let out a long groan.
“I gotta admit, butterfly,” he says. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything so captivating as the sound of you taking me.”
He pulls out and drives in again, this time a little faster. Each time he moves within me, sounds escape my lips and I can’t formulate words. Then he reaches between my legs with one of his hands, the other holding me tight by the hip as he drives into me; and he circles my clit.
The feeling is electrifying. I’m bucking into him as he rams into me. The feel of his finger working magic on me.
“I can feel you about to explode, butterfly.”
I can too. I groan in response.
He shifts us so that he’s now on the bed and I’m sitting on his lap, rubbing up and down the length of him. One hand still on my clit, the other roving my body. Until he reaches up to my neck and pulls my face to him.
Our lips meet and he devours me. I’m right on the edge, and I can hear the strain in his voice when he says my name into my mouth.
I scream out my release and he stops moving as soon as I collapse forward.
He rubs a hand over my back and gives me a moment to come back from the high. Once I’m able to lift my head I look up to him.
He has his eyes closed and is trying to slow his breathing. His erection is still high and pressed upwards. I slip off the bed and stand in front of him.
He finally opens his eyes and smiles up at me. “You’re a fucking goddess.”
“And you have the self-control of a saint,” I tell him, motioning toward his still hard cock.
“I need to take a cold shower,” he admits, getting up. When he’s standing in front of me he pulls me toward him and gives me another kiss that leaves me breathless.
God, I could kiss him all day. He has an expert mouth. An expert cock. How the hell did this pastor’s son learn everything he knows?
He finally breaks the kiss and whispers to me. “You go down first, I’ll be there soon.”
He heads into the bathroom and comes out a few seconds later with a warm washcloth.
“Open your legs,” he commands. I still and let him slide the washcloth between my thighs to clean me of my own juices whispering, “I’d lick that up myself if we weren’t in such a hurry.”
Well, I was almost clean. But I feel my body instantly reacting to his words.
“Stop it,” I slap his chest and he smiles. A heartbreaking and charming smile. “Go take a shower before I make you break your pre-game rule.”
He kisses me one last time before disappearing into the bathroom. I slip my clothes on and smooth out my hair in the mirror and just before I’m about to walk out he opens the door to the bathroom slightly and says, “Take the extra key. It’s next to the TV. You’ll need it later.”
The crowd is wild and the golden lights dancing around the arena remind us all that we’re in enemy territory.
The announcer’s voice rings out through the arena, “Las Vegas, join us in welcoming to the ice, your Veg-aaaas Spart-aaaans!”
The opposing team slips onto the ice, one by one, and makes their rounds holding their sticks up in triumph like they already won. The crowd erupts into another round of cheers around me. Many of them beating the plexiglass like war drums.
“Gotta give them points for excitement,” Izzy says next to me, snapping photos and bracing for our boys.
“And here to take on our Spartans in tonight’s Western Conference finals. All the way from Houston, Texas…the Houst-ooon Heat-waaave!”
Our boys jump onto the ice, one by one, they look fierce, fast and focused. Izzy is snapping photo after photo as they take their turn skating around the arena.
Ryker takes his place at the net. Smacking his stick onto all the corners of the net in his pre-game ritual and skating back and forth over his crease from side to side.