Page 36 of Not Just a Trick Play

Desire overwhelms me, and in the name of brave and brazen, I cast caution aside. My hand hooks around his neck, and I rise on my toes, silently offering him every chance to stop me. He doesn’t. He remains still, like a statue, waiting. My lips find his in a slow caress, a whisper of warm velvet. The touch is feather light, testing the waters. I feel the faintest twitch, as if he’s restraining himself. I do it again. The need for him to kiss me back is so intense it hurts.

“Jake.” My voice is breathy, almost lost in the music, yet his eyes flare—he knows exactly what I want.

His hands cup my face, and his mouth slants against mine, greedy and impatient as he takes over. My lips part, welcoming him, and the kiss morphs from a gentle tease into a ravenous, frantic collision. There’s nothing tentative about how he devours me. He kisses as if he wants to do filthy things to me. Hot and sweaty and deep and messy things.

Over and over, he tastes me. Every touch of his lips, every slip and slide of his tongue is a jolting, scorching, searing shock, and I’m dying for more. Because I’ve never been kissed like this.Never before have I experienced this kind of raw yearning, and I can’t seem to care if anyone’s watching.

I sink deeper into the kiss, desire growing with every second. Needing more and more as I dissolve into a molten mess. My fingers weave through his hair, and his hands glide down my back, dragging me close. We both groan when my aching breasts press against his firm chest.

Time becomes meaningless as we stand there, fused together, like teenagers making out in the dark. Long enough that vision blurs, long enough that my jaw aches and my lips swell. Long enough that my body is one big ball of want. So, when Jake finally pulls away, I whimper. He isn’t far, but even that slight distance is too much. In the background, the rhythm of the music pounds with possibility.

I don’t think. I act. Grabbing his hand, I tug him toward the loo I’d spotted earlier, urgency propelling me before sanity steps back in.

I gesture for him to go in first, then follow, shutting the door behind me and locking it with a decisive click. Jake’s brows rise, his eyes gleaming with intrigue. The tension between us thickens, and I’m ridiculously aware of my damp knickers.

The single stall is tiny, cramped. Smaller than this activity calls for. My mind flits to the rather significant length pressed against me moments ago, and a shiver of doubt creeps in. Am I smaller than the operation requires?

A new nervousness sets in. Cavity Activity Anxiety? If that’s not a thing, it should be.It’s surprisingly quiet in here, just a muted throbbing outside. In here, my breathing seems to have amplified in volume. Or is that simple hyperventilation?

Thoughts I’d pushed aside come roaring back to the forefront. Dirty thoughts of getting Jake naked mix in with the usual grossness I feel whenever I see the “Employees MustWash Hands Before Returning to Work” sign above the mirror, because really? Do they need to be reminded to do that?

“Amelia…” Jake’s low, rough voice pulls me from my musings.

I stare at him, trying to comprehend how we got here. I bite my lip, and his gaze goes hot. A wave of heat moves up my neck and chest and I swallow.

As if he senses my hesitation, Jake cups my cheek, his calloused fingers sending a tremor down my spine. His thumb finds my lower lip, tugging it down. My mouth opens, and without a second thought, I suck it in. He groans, and the guttural sound sends a jolt of electricity straight to my core.

His thigh comes between my legs, and I grind against it, desperate for friction. My arms loop around him, pulling him closer, pressing against the hardness beneath his jeans. Craving more, I rock my hips against him. He lets out a low, deep growl that reverberates through me, sending a sharp thrill through me.

Jake’s hands find my arse, and he hoists me up effortlessly. My legs hook over his hips, and the hem of my skirt rides up, bunching high on my thighs. I can feel every fingertip through the material, and it’s driving me wild.

With a swift motion, he uses one hand to wrench down my tank top, leaving my bra and knickers in place. I’m exposed, vulnerable, and I’ve never felt more alive.

Jake’s mouth descends to my breast, capturing my nipple through the thin fabric. He sucks hard, and I cry out, arching into him. He finds the other peak, and pinches it between his fingers. I’m panting, grinding myself against his cock.

He lifts me higher, pinning me against the door, and in one quick movement, he rips my knickers off. The tearing sound makes me gasp, the roughness of his actions only turning meon more. He skims down past my belly to brush against my slickness, and I whimper, bucking against him.

Jake growls low in his throat, and his finger pushes inside, curling just right. My body reacts instantly, back arching as pleasure ripples through me, leaving me breathless and trembling.

Somehow, he gets his jeans undone, and then I hear the crinkle of foil. The anticipation is electric, every second stretching out as he rolls the condom on.

He presses his forehead against mine, and our heaving breaths mingle. I’m completely out of control, and it’s terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. He pulls back slightly, just enough for our eyes to lock, the intensity undeniable, but an unspoken question lingers, too.

I nod, giving him the answer he needs.

That’s all it takes. With one swift thrust, he’s inside me. I gasp, overwhelmed by the sudden fullness, thick, hard, and perfect.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his voice strained like he’s barely holding it together. “You feel so fucking good. So tight, baby.”

A shiver races through me at his words, setting me alight. My walls clench around him instinctively, and he groans, the sound vibrating through me, making my pulse quicken.

He starts to move, his thrusts deep and steady, his hips grinding into me. I cling to him, my nails digging into his shoulders as I catch his rhythm.

“Yeah, just like that,” he growls, thick with lust, and he goes harder. The sensation of him filling me over and over is overwhelming, and every stroke drives me closer to the edge.

“Your pussy is incredible wrapped around me.” Every dirty word he murmurs makes me even wetter, my body responding to the sound of his rough need.

I want to respond, tell him how splendidhefeels, but I’m unable to form coherent words. All I can do is moan as I arch into him.

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