Hard.
Possessive.
A kiss that saidminein every slide of my tongue, every bite of my teeth.
She melted into me, a soft whimper vibrating against my lips.
I broke the kiss only long enough to yank Parker’s jersey over her head, tearing the fabric at the seams and tossing it into the grass like trash.
“What are you—” she started, breathless.
I stripped my own jersey off in one motion, the crowd exploding behind us.
Then I grabbed her wrists, forced my jersey over her head, and tugged it down until my number stretched across her chest.
“There,” I said happily. “That’s better. You’re only allowed to wearmyname, pretty baby. Only mine.”
Her eyes were wide as she glanced down at the jersey and then back up to me.
I kissed her again, slower this time, sealing the claim.
“Keep it on, Ophelia. I’ll see you after I win this fucking game.”
I spun and jogged back to the team, the crowd losing their minds, her taste still burning on my lips, my name blazing across her back…
And the wrong catch finally in my hands.
EPILOGUE I
OPHELIA
The roar of the stadium had faded to a low, distant hum, swallowed by thick concrete and steel. The team was still out there celebrating, but the locker room door could swing open any second.
Matty had me bent over the bench, my tiger costume shoved down to my knees, orange fur bunched and clinging, soaked through with sweat and us.
He knelt behind me, tongue buried deep in my core, lapping at me greedily like he’d been starving for days. His lips sealed over my clit and sucked hard, then let go with a slickpopbefore plunging back inside. He flicked his tongue in tight, relentless circles, tasting every inch. I moaned loudly as my palms smacked the wood, nails clawing as my hips bucked helplessly against his face.
“Matty,” I gasped.
He growled into my pussy, the vibration ripping straight through my core. His tongue lashed over my clit, slow circles that built the ache, then dipped lower, thrusting inside me, his breath hot and ragged against my slick skin. His hands slid up, and he spread my cheeks wider, exposing me completely. Onethumb brushed my tight hole, pressing just enough to make me whimper and my legs shake.
His free hand snaked around, two fingers plunging inside me alongside his tongue, curling hard against that spot that made my vision blur.
“This,” he rasped, his voice muffled against my folds, “was in one of your journals.Volume Ten. ‘Locker room. After the championship. He eats me on the bench until I scream.’”
I whimpered, my thighs trembling as slick dripped down his wrist.
He sucked my clit hard, fingers pumping faster.
Idetonated.
Screaming his name, I clenched around his fingers, sobbing as I pushed against his mouth, chasing the pleasure.
A second later he was on his feet.
His cock, thick and dripping, slapped heavy against my ass. He gripped my hips, lined up, andslammedinto me in one brutal thrust, filling me to the hilt.
I cried out, back arching, hands scrabbling for purchase on the bench. He didn’t give me time to adjust. He fucked me hard, hips snapping, balls slapping my clit with every thrust, the bench creaking under us. His hand fisted my hair, yanking my head back, forcing me to arch deeper.
