Tyson grabs my legs, pulls me down towards the edge of the bed. His hands are on my hips, flipping me to my belly before I can even register what’s going on.
Next, I feel his lips kissing up the back of my legs. One and then the other—slow, meticulous, and like fucking torture I’veaskedto.
His fingers dig into my ass and his thumbs get close to my entrance. Fuck, I want him to touch me. Fuck me.
“What next, Blair?” His voice is bright and teasing.
I know if I’m not vocal, he’ll wait until I give in. Tyson loves when I’m the one calling the shots, telling him what to do. I’m getting used to it.
“Eat me,” I beg.
His tongue is lapping at me before I even get the words out. His hands find the front of my hips and he pulls me back onto my knees, so I’m on all fours as he licks me from behind.
Looking at the mirror, seeing us like this is almost enough to have me coming. The color of the jersey peeks out from behind me.
“Good boy,” I praise the man who would literally do anything I asked.
He has me moaning, gripping the comforter with my hands. I try to move away from the pleasure but Tyson keeps me right where he wants me. Doing exactly what I asked for.
Each touch of his tongue, his fingers, his mouth, has me inching closer and closer to my orgasm. I don’t want to come without him fucking me, so I tell him that.
“Okay, it’s time. Fuck me in my jersey. I want to watch.” I press myself up on my hands. I watch in the mirror as he stands, stroking his dick before pulling me closer to him.
He nudges at my entrance and he already knows I’m a puddle waiting for him. Slowly, he fills me. Moving in and out. A little further each time. And then he’s hitting that sweet spot, the one that tells me I have all of him.
Tyson grips my hips and thrusts into me, faster, and I keep my eyes on the mirror. He’s watching me as I watch him. He bites his lip as he fucks me and it’s an incredible sight. My number. My jersey. On his front. I know my last name is on the back.
I’m afraid to blink, not wanting to miss any of it.
“Harder,” I plead, my voice like gravel.
Tyson needs no other instruction as he tilts my hips just enough and pounds me mercilessly from behind. It’s hard to breathe. And it’s this almost painful type of euphoric bliss. Like, I need all of him, and when he pulls out, I’m craving him–stretching me to my max.
Tossing my hair out of my eyes, I focus on the image of him owning me from behind as my orgasm starts ripping through me, a cell at a time.
I can’t keep my eyes open any longer and let out a scream as the waves try to pull me into another dimension. Only a few more pumps and Tyson comes inside me, filling me with his release.
He’s relentless and a second orgasm is within my reach. The feeling of him inside me like this is something I’ve never experienced before… like one orgasm is finished, or so you thought, because here come the aftershocks. The muscles are so tight.
He doesn’t stop until I’m trying to crawl towards the end of the bed. I can tell from his face that he’s spent but he’ll never stop until he knows I rode every wave.
I turn and lay on my back. Every nerve is raw. Exhaustion and bliss seep from my bones. His mouth is on mine and my arms loop around him.
I pull at him, needing his weight on me.
Ty knows what I need and is on top of me, still kissing me.
“That was…” I can’t even find words.
All I can manage is looking at him, his eyes sparkling like sapphires and I feel the thread tightening around us, continuing to pull.
“I love you, Blair. Today. Now. Before. Every day.” He’s breathless and his words are quiet, but honest and true.
“I know, Ty. I love you too.” And I kiss him, trying to say all the things that words could never even come close to.
Forty-One
Tyson
