“You can’t be serious.”
He’s absolutely serious.
“So either it’s UCR sex or no sex?”
His eyes flicker with heat. “Strip.”
“The fuck I will. I mean... if you’re gonna be such a child about it, I’ll just break out my vibe.” I wave a dismissive hand at him. “What do you think is going to happen? That I’m going to fuck you with the shirt on and turn into a Snow Pirate?”
He cringes, gesturing to stop me talking. “Christ. Don’t.”
I sigh. Giving in, I pull off my jersey, leaving another hockey shirt underneath. Thankfully, it’s not Snow Pirates as well, it’s an old UCR shirt I’ve had for years.
“Wait. You have Raccoons stuff?” The glee in his voice makes me smile. Fucking men. They’re all cavemen. “Leave it on. Please?”
At this point I just want to come, whether he’s a part of this process or not is up to him. When I straddle him, ass facing his body, he gropes my cheeks with both hands, palming them, caressing them.
“Is this how you want it, Pitstop? You wanna ride my cock?”
I really fucking do. The need building inside me is making my pussy soaking. He drags his cock through my lips, making me purr. I want to come, but I kinda want to edge him and leave him hanging for being a bit of an ass, but once he spears me onto his cock, my brain goes blank.
“No glove love this time?”
He groans, I’m not sure if it’s because he’s all-the-way inside me, or because he forgot to glove-up. “Do you need or want me to? I will if you’d prefer. Sorry. I got carried away.”
The way he rambles makes me giggle. “It’s fine. It’s all good.”
“You sure?” He moves to pull out.
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
He holds my hips as I bounce, the angle of how I’m kneeling is perfect for his rock-hard dick to hit the g-spot bullseye every single time.
Fuck.
Stars appear at the edges of my vision as I drive harder and faster.
He has the nerve to smack my ass cheek. He’s close, I can tell, he’s swelling and throbbing inside me, and everything’s just getting tighter and tighter.
When he slaps my ass again, I need to get back at him. Slap him, tickle him, play fight with him. Surely something like that would cheer him up. But I can’t reach around to smack his ass, and his balls are buried under all my curves and rolls. The only things I can reach are his feet.
Rolling my lips between my teeth to stop from giggling, I lean forward. I can’t help the gravelly sound that comes out of me as he drives his cock inside me from below. Fuck, he feels so damn good.
It just takes a sweep of my fingers along the inside arches of his feet for him to yelp.
Yup, my guy’s ticklish.
I repeat the action, and he squeals like a little kid.
What I don’t expect is for him to buck like a prized bronco at the rodeo, knee me in the face, and for my weight to shift so badly that I fall face-first off the bed.
“Ow!” That’s gonna leave a mark.
A hot sting blooms across my cheek and forehead as I land with an unceremonious thud on the floor.
There’s an electrically charged pause hanging in the room. I’m not sure whether to laugh, cry, or scream, and from the way he’s holding his breath he’s not sure either.
“Are you okay?” At least he asks the important question first.
