Football drills. Cold showers. Carter’s bare ass.
But nothing fucking works.
“You’re moving,” she says softly, still not looking at me.
“Maybe because you’re grinding your perfect fucking ass on my?—”
“Shhh,” she coos, wiping the fresh ink. “I’m working.”
She adjusts, and her pelvis rolls again.
I bite back a groan, my hands on the verge of breaking the armrests, and I’m surprised they don’t crack under the strength I’m exerting.
She looks down at me, right in the eyes, and smirks.
Fuckkkkkk.
That’s it. That’s the moment I know I’m done for.
My cock jerks beneath the fabric of my shorts, throbbing hard against the waistband, every pulse sharper than the last. I bite down on the inside of my cheek, copper tang blooming on my tongue, trying to hold myself still.
I’m going to fucking cum.
I feel it before I can stop it.
A hot, intense pulse shoots through me, as my cock twitches hard beneath the thin fabric of my shorts. Heat floods low in my gut, unbearable, and I grit my teeth, squeezing my eyes shut for a split second. My chest heaves, breath caught between a groan and a curse, and I send up a silent prayer to whatever higher power might be listening—that I can ride it out quietly, that she won’t notice.
No, no, no. Please don’t. Just once, I don’t wanna cum right now, please.
But no, my body fucking betrays me.
My cock jerks hard against my shorts as my orgasm rips through me, brutal and unforgiving. Warmth floods my core, tearing every ounce of control out of my grip as my vision blurs white at the edges.
A groan slips out of me as I come undone beneath her. Hot release spills thick into my briefs, soaking through in messy spurts. I can already feel it spreading, the damp heat sticking uncomfortably against my skin.
I can’t stop it, can’t hold it back, and the shame of it tears through me even as the pleasure ravages my body.
My cock throbs, still twitching beneath her.
I fucking came. Great job, Maverick.
Jesus Christ.
My eyes snap shut as I breathe heavily, trying to catch my breath from an intense orgasm from her just sitting on my lap, my chest rising and falling in short bursts, and her hand pauses mid-swipe with a wipe.
I don’t even dare look at her.
“Everything okay?” she says, too casually.
My throat is dry. “Yup.”
I can feel her watching me, studying me, waiting for me to say something else.
She shifts forward again, this time, I know she’s doing it on fucking purpose.
My hips jerk helplessly. “Fuck,Amelia.”
She grins without looking up. “Almost done,” she says sweetly.
