Page 115 of Scoring the Player
“I swear to God, as soon?—”
“Shh,” he croons, cutting me off, then kissing my ear. Pinning one arm tight behind my back, his free arm reaches around and unbuckles my belt. “Thought you wanted to get worked out.”
“Fuck you,” I seethe as I’m stripped of my jeans and briefs.
“Plan to,” he rasps, fondling my erection. He lifts his palm to my mouth. “Spit.”
“No,” I sneer, even though the husky command has me pushing back against his erection pressed into my back.
“Cool.” He peppers a kiss along the back of my sweaty neck as he thumbs my slit. “You’re wet enough.”
“Wait.”
He stops and raises his palm again, and I spit on it.
“Good boy.”
The praise turns my knees weak, but I steel myself by trying to headbutt him, but he has me pinned so tightly, my head barely moves.
He fists my dick and strokes. I clench my jaw shut to stifle the moan, but the pleasure from the strain of my arm twisted behind my back breaks through, dragging a raw sound from deep in my throat.
His breath whispers against my ear. “Did you think about me during your game?”
“No.” It comes out weak as I try to fuck his hand. “I hate you.”
He abandons my dick to tug and massage my balls. “You’ve been saving all this for me?”
“You heard me,” I pant. “I hate your face.”
“Yeah? What else do you love?”
“Fuck your tailors.”
He snickers.
“And the way your dick tastes.”
“Aww, baby.” His warm mouth nips my earlobe as he releases my balls. The clank of his belt hitting the floor has me widening my legs. “You just told me you love me.”
I push the limits of my range, turning my head until our lips slide back together. I moan in his mouth as his wet erection slots in between the globes of my ass and glides up and down.
I arch back, needing more. Needing him inside me.
“Hold on, I need to grab lube. If I let you go, you’ll be good?”
“My pocket,” I growl.
“Stay,” he orders as he bends down and finds the packet of lube and a condom in my jeans.
I try to rip my arm free, but his hold tightens, as if he anticipated the disobedience.
“You just made it harder on yourself,” he murmurs.
The warning sends liquid fire rushing through my blood.
The smell of latex and the wet drip of lube down my crease suspends my breath.
A sharp crack splits the air as his palm smacks my ass, pleasure and pain tangling, laughter spilling from me before I can stop it.
