Page 57 of The Right Player
I looked up, taking my time to appreciate the view of all the muscles lining his abdomen, his chest, his arms, even his thick fucking neck. Those Polynesian tattoos sprawled over him, giving him an even more godly appearance than he had naturally. My hand tightened a little more on the next plunge over his cock, and Makoa’s eyes rolled up to the ceiling, his hand finding the back of my head.
I smiled when his fingers curled in my hair. “What do you want, Makoa?” I asked, but I knew already, and when his fingers tightened even more, I slipped my tongue out long enough to swirl it over his tip.
His answer was a growl, his eyes hooded when they looked back down at me. “Take my cock in your mouth, baby.”
Those words. That monster of a man. The command. It all combined to send a shock straight between my legs, and I felt the need pooling there as I did just what he asked.
That first taste of him had been sweet, but it was nothing compared to the delicious power I felt reverberating through me when I took his cock all the way inside.
Well, as much as I could, anyway.
Makoa groaned at the feel of my tongue running along his base, and I swirled it at the top, puckering my lips before I dove down again. He couldn’t stop himself from flexing into my mouth, and the way he held his hand steady at the back of my head had me releasing all control, letting him fuck me just the way he wanted.
I wrapped one hand around his base, using the wetness my mouth provided to slide it in tandem. Makoa moaned his approval, and then the hand not in my hair slipped over my spine, down, down, down, until he reared back and smacked my ass.
I yelped, wriggling from the sting, and when I took him in my mouth again, I moved my other hand to grasp his balls.
“Oh, fuck yes,” he hissed, flexing into me. The hand that had smacked my ass slipped between my cheeks then, drawing a line from my asshole to my pussy. His fingers slid in with ease, curling against the tender spot of pleasure inside me.
I arched my back, giving him better access as I took him inside my mouth again. When he leaned forward to thrust his fingers in deeper, his cock went deeper, too, and with one last groan, he ripped free from my grasp.
“I’m going to fucking come if you don’t stop,” he said, smacking my ass.
“Why are we stopping, then?” I asked, peering up at him.
He shook his head on a smirk, picking me up and tossing me onto my back again like I weighed absolutely nothing. His knees found the edge of the bed then, and he hiked my ankles up onto his shoulders, pulling my thighs until his cock slid between them.
Makoa lined himself up at my entrance, and then his palms found the bed, and his mouth crashed hot onto mine, and he plunged inside me in one, full-to-the-hilt thrust.
We both exhaled a heavy, lust-filled moan of ecstasy into each other’s mouth at the feeling of being connected. I wrapped my hands around his biceps, holding on for dear life and thanking yoga for the flexibility it took to kiss him while he fucked me with my legs on his shoulders like that.
I also silently thanked Gemma for convincing me to go on birth control in college, since there was absolutely zero chance of us stopping to put a condom on.
“God, you feel so good,” Makoa breathed, rocking his hips out, and in, out, and in. He held one ankle on his shoulder, letting the other fall until I was practically in a split. “So fucking tight.”
I didn’t have it in me to break up his adoration with the fact that any vagina would feel tight to his barbarian of a cock.
Every thought and possible sentence I could form was stolen with his next thrust, anyway, and I surrendered to the feeling, to the way one of his hands held my leg steady on his shoulder and the other dragged through my hair, tugging hard enough to expose my throat for his mouth and take my next breath.
His thrusts were relentless, his kisses punishing, his hands bruising — and I loved every second of it.
When his hands were on me like this, when his teeth broke my flesh, I didn’t have space in my mind to think about how much I cared for him, how much I wanted him, how much it would hurt to lose him at this point. Every new kiss shoved those thoughts further from my mind, and when he reached a hand down between us to rub my clit the way I had when I rode him our first time, thought ceased to exist altogether.
