He jerks me against him, and I gasp just in time for him to cut off my air. I claw at his hand, but before I can really start to worry, he eases his hold and lets me breathe. It feels like a warning, a threat, but also. . . something in my core tightens.
I may not think I like the game, but part of me does, and he’s grinning like he knows that. How does he know all my secrets? How does he know what I’m willing to handle when even I don’t?
“We’re here all alone,” he muses. He leans down, his warm breath fanning across my lips. “No one here to witness what we get up to.”
“Having ideas?” I goad against my better judgement.
“So many ideas,” he breathes. His eyes flicker to the games around us. “You trying to shoot zombies while I lick you. Me driving while your throat wraps around me. Fucking you while you punch buttons.” He grinds his hardness against me. “Loser doesn’t get to come.”
My eyes widen. Why is that the hottest thing I’ve ever heard?
“Oh,” I croak.
He grins and it’s the cockiest expression I’ve ever seen on a man. “I can’t wait that long, though.”
His lips crash against mine, his fingers around my neck holding tight. His other hand goes to my hair and fists it, jerking my head back to give him better access as he swallows my cry. He presses me back against the Pacman machine, kissing me like a starved man getting his first taste of food in a long time. And I kiss him back, just as hungry for him, just as desperate.
I reach between us and stroke him through his jeans. He growls against my lips, almost angry, before he shoves me roughly to my knees. I cry out at the brutality of it even as my eyes go to his fingers quickly flying over his button and zipper. He frees his cock quickly before shoving his fingers past my lips, forcing my teeth open. Before I can even gasp, he’s thrusting his cock inside, gagging me, forcing me to take him deep. His fist is tight in my hair again as he groans and strokes himself to the back of my throat, controlling every aspect as I grip his thighs and hold on for dear life. My eyes water, but I don’t even care. I have to clamp my own thighs together to get some relief. I’m so wet, I’m practically soaking through my jeans.
“You feel just as good as I imagined,” he groans, tipping his head back. “Fuck, Ava.”
He jerks from my lips, and I get a few seconds to breathe before he reaches down and lifts me into his arms. I shriek in panic and wrap my arms around him before he tosses me on top of the nearest game which turns out to be a big game hunting one. The plastic guns fall off as I try to grab at it to prevent myself from falling. He grabs at the button of my jeans, popping it free before he starts savagely jerking my pants down and off. My shoes go flying, caught in my jeans. His hand shoves at my chest, forcing me back against the screen as he dips down and seals his lips around my clit. I cry out, jerking on top of the game as he starts to consume me. My thighs shake against his shoulders as he presses me back. The sounds of the game at my back fades into the background as I claw at his hair, my body tightening so fast, it’s almost embarrassing.
“That’s it,” he growls against my core. “Come for me, baby. Just like you did before.”
I do as he says, mostly because I can’t help myself. I cry out, shaking against the game screen, losing my mind as he continues to swirl his tongue against my core. The moment I’m able to blink down at him in coherence, he drags me from the game console again and presses me down on the edge of the air hockey table. His cock swipes through my juices and he groans.
“So fucking perfect,” he purrs. “I’m going to fuck you on every single game in here,” he warns, before thrusting into me.
I cry out, my back arching against the coolness of the air hockey table as it kicks on. There’s no slow ease into it. There’s only desperation. His hands shove my t-shirt and bra up, revealing my breasts so he can grab handfuls of them and use them for leverage. The table rattles with his thrusts, each movement drawing cries of pleasure from my lips. My legs spread in the air on each side of him.
“This is the last thing I needed to know about you,” he growls. “How you felt milking my cock. Fucking perfection. Just like I expected.”
His hands trace over every scar on my chest, touching the raised skin, almost as if he’s trying to memorize them. He leans down and kisses me again, fucking me hard, until I’m shattering and he’s groaning against my lips. Still, he doesn’t slow. He takes his fill, claiming me, marking me as his. He jerks his own t-shirt over his head, revealing smooth, unblemished skin. On instinct, I reach up and wrap my own fingers around his neck. I squeeze and he moans, his cock jumping inside me. As if that’s the catalyst for it, he jerks out of me and his warmth spurts across my stomach. He strokes against me, his eyes rolling back as he comes for me.
“Fuck,” he grunts, looking down at me. His chest rises and falls as rapidly as mine, his eyes dark with pleasure. “Don’t look at me like that,” he growls.
“Like what?” I ask breathlessly.
“Like you want me again,” he says, helping me to stand. Instead of fixing my clothing, he pulls everything the rest of the way off.
“Maybe I do,” I reply, eyeing him.
Something sinister flashes in his eyes. He picks me up and carries me over to another game, this one with a few buttons and a large joystick. Frogger. I haven’t played this game in a long time. “You sure about that?”
I nod feverishly, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
He lifts me up and over the console, the joystick beneath me. “Then keep yourself warm for me.”
My eyes widen as he lines me up with the joystick. I dig my fingers into his shoulders as he lowers me onto it, my mouth popping wide in surprise as I precariously perch there. Amused, he flashes that dangerous grin at me again as he grabs my thighs and lifts me up and down, forcing me to fuck the joystick. The large, rounded end of it presses inside me, driving me insane as soft cries leave my lips.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growls as he lifts and lowers me. The joystick vibrates inside me as the game starts and my eyes roll back in my head as I arch and claw at him. He leans down and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. My hips jerk, forcing the joystick deeper as it vibrates vigorously with whatever’s happening in the game. I cry out, shattering for him for what feels like the hundredth time. He only lifts me off to thrust his already hard again cock back inside me, prolonging my orgasm as he presses me into the seated Call of Duty machine, forcing me to ride him this time as he grabs the gun and starts to play.
I don’t think he misses a single shot.
“Felix,” he whispers in my ear as I cry out with my release and he grinds me down against him. “You can call me Felix, Boba_Juliette.”
His name flickers in my mind despite the pleasure flowing through me. The next word out of my mouth is his name, but his hand clamps over my mouth before I can shout it, keeping it inside, forcing the mystery to remain for the rest of the world even as I shatter into a million pieces for him.
