Page 45 of Break my Heart

I’d like nothing more than to find that asshole and make him pay for what he did to her.

For the damage he caused, the way he made her feel small and used.

Even when the first few comments pop up on the screen, people already tuning in, all I can think about is how much I hate the idea of her still having to deal with him.

Still receiving those texts.

I flex my abs and shift on the bed, needing to get my head back in the game, but it’s useless. The more I try to push Ava out of my mind, the more I feel this growing need to protect her.

To be there for her in a way no one else has been.

And that’s the scariest part of all.

Since those thoughts aren’t conducive to what needs to happen, I force them from my head for a second time and allow my hand to stroke over my chest. It’s so damn tempting to rush through this, but I refuse to do that.

That’s not what these people are paying for.

And since I need the money, I force myself to slow my roll and draw out every touch and stroke of my hand.

At the end of the day, it’s not about me.

It’s about them.

The people paying good money to see me get off.

With lazy movements, my fingers circle around one nipple and then the other until both stiffen. I’ve given serious consideration to piercing them. I bet the fans would go fucking crazy over that, but I’ve just never found the time to get it done. And now that there’s only a few months left until graduation, there doesn’t seem to be much point. As soon as I sign my NHL contract, my little X-rated performances will be a thing of the past.

As the music thumps a steady beat, everything inside me loosens, and I allow both hands to wander, caressing every inch of exposed flesh. They continue their descent before one slides along the thick length of my erection pressing against the cotton of my underwear.

The moment I squeeze the tip, thoughts of Ava shove their way back into my brain. What it felt like to wrap her up in my arms and offer comfort. Her warm weight nestled against me. How close we came to kissing before guilt slammed into me, and I yanked myself back from the precipice.

It had been so damn tempting to brush my lips across hers.

The need rushing through my veins had been like nothing I’d ever experienced before.

I cup my balls and massage them. A guttural groan escapes from me as I shift, my cock growing even harder.

When I can’t stand another second of the torture, my hand slips beneath the elastic band of the boxers, and I shove them down until my dick can spring free of the confines. My teeth sink into my lower lip as I fist the hot length, tightening my hold until it turns borderline painful.

Even though I’m conflicted about Ava and how to proceed with her, I can’t stop thoughts of her lithe body from rolling through my head. I want to stretch her out naked and lick every silky inch of her skin. I want to run my tongue over her pussy until she’s writhing beneath me and screaming out her orgasm. That image alone is almost enough to make me lose control.

Which never happens.

I’m always the one calling the shots.

A tortured groan makes its way past my lips as I bow my spine, and hot spurts of cum jet from my cock, landing on my lower abdomen.

My breathing turns harsh as I strangle the life out of my dick until every last drop has been wrung from it, and I’m softening in my palm. Only then do my muscles loosen as I relax against the mattress.

I stretch my arms above my head as endorphins flood my system, making me drowsy and satisfied. Music pours through my earbuds as I rub the jizz around my belly.

I give it a few moments before rolling to the side, throwing up the peace sign, and ending the video. Five hundred comments and a whole hell of a lot of emojis greet me from the screen, but I’m not in the mood to go through them.

After slamming the laptop closed, I grab a few tissues and wipe up the cum before tossing them in the trash can near the nightstand and pulling the elastic band back over my cock. Once the earbuds have been removed, I sit on the edge of the bed as the sassy figure skater shoves her way back into my brain for the umpteenth time today.

I have no idea what to do about her.

If I’m honest with myself, she’s become something of an obsession.

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