“You’re so wet, Colby. Please tell me I can fuck you tonight. I have to know,” he begs.
“Yes,” I croak. I drop my mouth to his head, kissing his crown before repeating the word again. “Yes.”
Jayden works me with his hand for a few more seconds before standing and lifting my body with him. I wrap my legsaround him, the warmth of his cock pressed between my legs as he walks to the back of the couch, setting my ass on the edge and bracing my back as he grips his cock in his other hand.
His gaze lands on mine, and we’re both lost to lust, high on each other and numb with need. He’s more handsome than I imagined, his body the work of hours of discipline, his skilled hands knowing exactly how to touch me. We aren’t kids. We’ve both had lives—college, him a few years in the pros. I’m not naïve, nor is he. But I do benefit from it all. I’m benefiting now.
“What do you want me to do?” he asks, stroking his cock less than an inch from plunging into me.
“I’m covered,” I say, assuring him that I want this, and nothing between us.
My words are breathy, as if I’ve been running for hours. My chin tips up as my lips part, my mouth ready to cry out from the feel of him inside me. But Jayden is in no rush. He takes his time, stroking himself and smirking as his stare bores into mine. A few times, he teases me with the tip of his cock, rubbing my clit and sending what feels like a morphine drip rushing down my spine.
Then, finally, he slips inside, pushing in slowly at first, only halfway before pulling back out. He repeats his thrust, his hips moving forward with ease, sinking his cock in deeper. My legs part more, making room for him, and his hand moves from my back to my ass, giving him leverage to pull me into him with his next drive. I hold on to his shoulders as he thrusts harder, and a tiny yelp slips out of my mouth as the first threat of an orgasm swells in my pussy.
“Oh, fuck, Jayden,” I cry, my nails digging into his skin as his hips rock back then forward again.
“I’m going to come so hard inside you, Colby. Fucking hell, is your pussy heaven,” he says, his rhythm picking up. His skin slaps against mine, and I let my head fall back as he drives intome. At one point, his mouth covers my breast, and he sucks my nipple so hard he may tear me wide open. I wish for it, holding him to me and rocking my hips as best as I can while balanced on the back of the sofa.
My climax can’t be escaped, and despite how badly I want to make this last longer, I have to come. If I don’t give in to the rush building between my legs, I’ll die. I really think I’ll die.
“Fuck me, Jayden. Fuck me,” I scream, wanting the freedom of shouting his name the way I did in my dreams. I cling to him, our skin sticky with sweat.
He reaches around my body and lifts me, grasping my hips while my legs wrap around him. He walks me toward the empty wall, bracing my back against it as he drives into me, and my body completely falls apart.
My pussy clenches around him as he swells inside me, and his breath halts as his mouth sinks into the crook of my neck with his final pumps. Hot cum drips down the inside of my thigh, even with him still inside me, and I savor being marked by him. Even when his hands release my hips, and my legs straighten, my feet finding the floor, his cock remains inside of me, soaked with our sex.
He smooths my hair away from my face, kissing my forehead first, then my lips. His eyes close and his head rests against mine, his body caging me. There is nowhere I would rather be. I’m a willing captive.
“Shower with me,” he says, his voice hoarse.
I nod, my hands roaming up the ridges of his abs, flattening against his pecs.
“And stay here. If only for tonight. For a little while. I want you to stay.”
I nod again, and he does the same.
Neither of us moves.
There’s so much more we need to know.
FIFTEEN
COLBY
The quiet is a problem.
Before Jayden drifted off to sleep, there was his voice. Soft banter. Requests for kisses. Reminders that we would be careful.
“We deserve this,” he said.
Now, it’s terribly quiet. And my mind is ruthlessly loud.
You’re going to blow everything.
My eyes scan the rolling curves of his bicep as he lays on his side. His hand fell from my arm a moment ago, but it’s not what woke me up. I never fell asleep. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t move from the bed with Jayden’s hand on me still. I was afraid to move him, to wake him. If he wakes up, he’ll say the right things, and I’ll rush back into the spiral I’ve already begun.
His chest fills slowly, his mouth closed and nostrils flexing with each long draw of air. He’s a well-crafted machine of skin, muscle and bone. My fantasies never did his body justice. Even the scars on his knees and elbows from years of grinding in the dirt for this game he loves are beautiful. They’re reminders of the great stories he’ll tell his kids one day, about how their daddy was a real ballplayer. One of the best.
