Every thrust sent the bench scraping along the floor, rocking me until my breasts bounced with the force of it. I’d never been fucked this deep before. The searing stretch in my pussy, his desperate breath on my back, strong hands holding me in place while he pounded me… it wiped my mind of every rational thought. There was only Elias, and how badly I wanted him.
His sneakers squeaked on the cheap floor as he edged closer to me. The hand in my hair finally let go, but only to snake around my neck, fingers closing just under my jaw. For all his rough, uncontrolled movements, I noticed the careful restraint in this one. The exact positioning, with just the right amount of pressure. He bent low as he lifted my head, and our bodies met somewhere in the middle, the chiseled plane of his chest against the extended arch of my back.
I gasped for air, already feeling the dizzying effects of his chokehold. The way it heightened every sensation, from the drag of his cock against my pussy walls to the broken rush of warm breath at my ear. I let it consume me, white hot stars popping behind my eyelids.
“You’re sotight,” he rasped, and the smug fucking tone of his voice made my body seize.
He felt it, my looming demise, and his thrusts became more desperate as he fucked me harder. Faster. I rode the wave, having no choice but to get swept up in him. He drove into me again, pulling the tension in my body to its final breaking point. And again, pushing me over the edge entirely.
I broke apart in his arms, suspended by only the hand on my throat and the one on my waist. I suspected he’d tear me in two, and fuck me, I was right. My climax raked through me, all that built-up tension leaving my body in millions of tiny explosions. He staggered once, the rhythm of his thrusts becoming more and more erratic as the clenching in my pussy forced a groan from his throat.
The pressure from his hand on my neck vanished as his hand reached down to work my clit. I was still coming, but his agonizing touch got me going all over again. My legs were jelly. I could barely see straight. I had nothing left but somehow, his attentive fingers found enough to make the tension crest and pull tight. Fighting it was useless. I came again, my body wracked with tremors at the same time his strangled growl echoed through the gym.
His come pumped into me in bursts and twitches, carried along by my pussy’s fluttering walls. On and on. There was no end to it. I felt it trickle down my thigh, his dick still mostly hard inside of me. He rocked his hips, a little gentler now, easing through the last of his tremors until, finally, he’d spent every last drop.
“June,” he breathed into my ear.
“Elias,” I whispered back at him, grinning as he twisted my face around to kiss him.
32
Elias
I was rarely afraid. A man such as myself did not need to be afraid.
And yet Juneterrifiedme.
I was afraid of telling her what happened to my family. Afraid she would judge me for getting drunk once a year. Afraid that it would change the way she looked at me, afraid she would pity me.
Afraid of the way I felt about her.
I did not allow anyone in. Not my teammates or members of the Reapers staff, beyond Coach Jay. Telling June about my family made me feel vulnerable in a way that I rarely felt, in a way that created a ball of pain in the pit of my stomach.
But she accepted me. She didn’t pity me. And that meanteverythingto me.
I desired her so badly and was afraid she would reject my advances. Yet when I pulled her into my lap and kissed her, she welcomed my lips with even more desire than I felt for her.
My relief was immense, followed quickly by my burning need for her. To touch her, squeeze her, drive into her and see her eyes widen with pleasure.
Somehow, it was better than I ever imagined.
We clung to each other after, chests heaving as we savored the release we had shared. Slowly, our breaths and hearts calmed. And yet I did not let go of her.
“I have to get dressed,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“That means you have to release me.”
“I know.”
Her giggle vibrated into my body in the mostwonderfulway. “Okay, seriously. If we get caught, we’re fucked. By which I meanI’mfucked, because as a player, you’ll probably only get a slap on the wrist.”
I knew she was right. If we were caught, she would receive the brunt of the punishment. She was expendable, while I was not. A sad truth, but the truth nonetheless.
I went off to the locker room to clean up, and she did the same. When we returned to the bench press, we were both smiling.
“I needed that,” she admitted. “I’ve had a bad couple of days.”
