It was like he could read every thought in my mind as his lips curled into a smirk.
“Emmie James, have you been having dirty thoughts about me all day?” he taunted.
“No,” I scoffed.
“I can read the lie all over your face.”
“I’m not,” my breath hitched as the tips of his fingers slipped under my shorts, tracing the crease where my ass met the back of my thighs, “lying.”
“So you weren’t eye fucking me during the game?”
I shook my head. “Wasn’t me.”
“Hmm,” Mateo hummed, definitely not believing the words coming out of my mouth. He moved his hand up and grabbed two handfuls of my ass under my shorts in a tight grip. My own landed on his shoulders to keep my balance.
The tips of his fingers dipped low, lightly toying with the thin fabric of my thong. Mateo kept his eyes on me as he suddenly grabbed the back of it and yanked up, making the fabric press against my pussy.
I let out a gasp, hands curling into his shirt. The smirk on his face grew as he also grabbed a small section of my shorts and tugged again. I lifted onto my toes as the seam dug into my pussy.
My hips moved forward on their own, the inseam perfectly lined up with my clit. Mateo looked away from my face and down between my legs. The pull was harder this time, and I knew he could see the way my shorts pressed lewdly against my center.
“Your body is saying what your mouth isn’t.” He flicked his gaze upward.
“Or you’re making my body say something else,” I said, trying my best to not moan at how good the press of my thong and shorts felt against me.
Mateo tutted. “See, now that’s the biggest lie you’ve said so far.”
One hand slipped out from under my shorts and came around to the front, his thumb following the seam of my shorts from my clit to my ass, the movement rough as he traced back and forth.
My eyes fluttered, teeth digging into my bottom lip to stop the moan from breaking free. Mateo knew how to play me like a fiddle.
“I can already feel you soaking through your shorts.”When his other hand gave my shorts and thong another tug, I groaned, shifting higher on my toes. “Do you remember what I told you a few weeks ago?” Mateo asked.
It took a moment for his words to get through my fogged brain, but when they did, I knew exactly what he was implying. The same memory flitted through my mind just hours ago.
“Emmie?” he prodded. With one rough pass over my pussy, I shuddered.
“You said,” I murmured, breathing heavy, “the next time you fuck me in a jersey, it would be yours.”
“And it seems you’re in my jersey.”
My hips shifted to rub against his thumb and the inseam, trying to get more friction. My body felt like it was on fire, and yet, Mateo hadn’t done more than just barely touch me.
“Are you going to do something about it?” I taunted, unable to help myself. My hands moved up a few inches to lace through the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Are you begging me to fuck you, Emmie?”
“No.”
“Hm, we both know I could make you beg if I wanted,” he reminded me. My mind instantly flashed back to yesterday morning and how I begged him to eat my pussy and make me come.
I loved when he teased, loved when he kept me right on the edge until I was begging for him. Usually, the slow torture was my favorite part. But tonight, I didn’t want the buildup. I just wanted him.
Meeting his family had done something to me, something I hadn’t expected. Their warmth, their laughter, the way they made space for me without hesitation…shifted something inside of me.
“I don’t want that tonight,” I whispered, meeting his eyesas my fingers gripped the back of his head. “I just…want you.”
I didn’t just crave him. After today, I needed him in a way that was almost terrifying.
