Page 112 of The Problem with Players

Without hesitation, he placed one of my legs over his shoulder, one hand against the headboard, and held his eye contact. The way he looked my way both excited and terrified me. He looked at me as if he planned to spend the rest of forever making sure I got off from his touches.

Each thrust felt personal like he were trying to break into my soul and leave his imprint. Our bodies moved as one. As my lungs gasped for air, his exhalations filled me back up. My hips rocked against him as he pumped himself deeper inside me, the sound of his pounding thrusts making me wetter and wetter. I was dripping for him, wanting nothing more than to release the orgasm building up inside me with every passing millisecond. I didn’t even know I could come as many times as I could until that very night.

Nathan must’ve known I was close because the wicked smirk that fell against his lips was enough to show he was proud of his work. If I were in my sober, non-sexed-up mind, I would’ve called him a dick for having full control of me. But as I parted my mouth to speak, only mumbles came out. Jumbled-up, wannabe words that had no meaning as my eyes rolled to the back of my head due to the intensity of the pleasure taking place.

I dropped my hands from around his neck and dug my fingernails into his back, gliding him in more and more, faster and faster, deeper and deeper as the explosion of pleasure built with every passing second.

“I…we…it…” I stuttered, still unable to form any words.

“Avery,” he breathed out as his mouth rediscovered mine. “Use your words to coach me through this, or better yet…” He bit my bottom lip and whispered, “Go ahead and fall apart against my cock.”

That was enough to take me over the edge. I wrapped my legs around his body as I fell into the hardest, most intense orgasm of my life. I could’ve sworn my soul left my body for a moment’s time and went on a smoke break to recover from the overwhelming sensation of pleasure I’d found myself taking part in.

“That’s it, Ave, that’s it. Give me all of it, give me all of you. I love feeling you come for me. That’s my sweet girl.”

Oh my goodness.

That man could talk dirty to me for the rest of my life, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

After I fell apart, I made it my mission to get him to do the same. I flipped him over to his back and placed myself on top of him. It was now my turn to be the head coach.

I began riding him as my breasts bounced in his face. I gripped the headboard and held eye contact with Nathan the whole time. “Now it’s time for you to be my good boy and let go for me,” I cooed, rolling my hips slowly against his hardness. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and he muttered under his breath.

“Shit, Ave…wait, when you…fuck, I…” he stuttered.

There it was.

My control over him.

It felt good to know it went both ways.

I smirked when I felt him throbbing inside me. I leaned down toward him and brushed my lips against his as a whisper escaped me. “Hey, Coach…” I bit his bottom lip. “Give me all of you.”

Within seconds, his eyes shot open, and he thrust into me, his body shaking as he reached his climax. Something was so good about watching what I’d done to him—something so rewarding about seeing how he completely surrendered himself to me. He lost himself for a moment as he found me.

I rolled my hips against him a few more times, loving howhe shivered beneath me, before climbing off and falling beside him.

Our breaths were uneven as we lay there, dripping in sweat from head to toe.

Something changed between us, yet I wasn’t ready to unpack exactly what it meant.

At that moment, I simply wanted to be there fully, unafraid of what the future could bring.

Nathan sighed as he pulled me into the curvature of his body. “After that, I feel like I should smoke a cigarette and head to the kitchen to make you a sandwich,” he joked.

I snickered and rested my head against his chest. Against his heartbeat. “Extra mayo, please.”

He pulled back slightly and looked at me with wonderment in his eyes.

I raised my eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he said, falling back to his pillow. “I’m just trying to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?”

“How I lived all these years without you.”

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