Page 20 of Run Game
I know she wants that, deep down. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have come into my bed that night…and every other night since. It’s been a week since the cereal incident, and neither of us have brought it back up. I didn’t want to reopen a fresh wound too soon, but I fully plan on asking her again to give me the next five weeks to prove to her that I can provide the things she deserves.
I lean in brushing my lips against hers, earning an appeased sigh. I trail kisses down her face and jaw, making her squirm underneath me. “I fully plan on making you come in lots of creative ways,” I say into her ear. “But if you want this cock again, I’m going to needyou to give me what I want, Dia. As soon as you do, I’ll fuck you until you beg me to stop.”
I don’t give her a moment to answer because I don’twanther to answer right now. I want her to take time to think about what I’m asking for. I also don’t want her thinking that she’s going to be left completely unsatisfied if she decides that she’s not able to agree to let me take care of her. Instead, I kiss her again. This time, I move my thigh against her while I do it.
She moans into my mouth as I add more pressure, making a direct hit with my quad to her clit. She begins grinding her hips into me, taking what she needs. Her eyes are closed as she rides me from below, but we can’t have that. Grabbing her face between my thumb and fingers, I squeeze just enough to get her attention. “Eyes on me, Wifey. That’s my only rule with this. You look at me when I make you feel good.”
Her eyes snap open. Her pupils are completely blown as she locks onto mine, giving me the connection I so desperately need. She’s fucking beautiful, with her flushed skin and heaving chest as she sucks in air, letting it out with loud moans. I’m harder than stone as I thrust my thigh forward, simultaneously rubbing my cock on her leg as I do. I refuse to lose it though. I won’t come while we do this. I’ll wait until I’m alone and jack off in the shower to the memory of her ruining her panties for me right here on our living room floor.
I know how crazy that sounds. Choosing to leave this situation without coming when Dia is completely willing to do everything with no strings attached. But the strings are exactly what I hunger for. And until she understands that I want her for more than what I can get from her body, I’m not taking anything.
“Please don’t stop,” she whimpers. “I’m so close.”
Funny that she thinks I’d ever stop. I live to make Dia Davis come.
I keep thrusting as I reach up her shirt, pleased to find her full tits without the restriction of a bra. I find her nipple, pinching it tightly between my thumb and forefinger. A beautiful scream leaves her lips when I begin rolling it slowly.
“Such a pretty fucking sound, baby,” I say. “Come for me. And don’t forget how empty your cunt is when it squeezes, desperately searching for your husband’s cock.”
That’s all it takes to make her come undone as her orgasm hits her like a freight train. Her muscles seize as it flows through her, until she finally relaxes with a contented sigh.
“Better?” I ask, leaning down for a quick peck on her open lips.
“Much,” she replies on a breathy laugh.
I chuckle, moving off of her. “What are your plans for the week?” I ask, hoping the change of subject will make my dick deflate.
She sits up. “Well, I think I need to go back to Chicago and pack my things. I wouldn’t put it past my old boss to throw everything out at the end of the month. I don’t have much, but I definitely want to keep it.” She looks down. “I need my own clothes. I can’t keep walking around here in just your t-shirts and my underwear.”
“First of all,” I reply, putting one finger into the air, “yes you can. And secondly,” I add another finger, “if you’d just let me buy you some new stuff, you wouldn’t have to worry about it.” I know she deposited the check from her ring into her bank account, but I refuse to suggest that she spend a dime of that. In fact, if she does, I’ll justtransfer more over. Because if she chooses to leave me in five weeks, I want her life to be as easy as possible.
She rolls her eyes, “That’s such a rich person thing to say. I don’t need new stuff. I just have to go pack up. My rent is paid for the next two weeks, so it’s safe to go back and get it. He isn’t a bad guy and he’s been a decent landlord. He’s just a dick.”
“Okay,” I relent. “Want me to come with you?”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “Stay here and spend some time with Blaze so he doesn’t wonder why you haven’t been around as much. I’ll go back for a couple days and rent a storage unit in Boston until I get my own place.”
I raise a brow. “Now who’s talking like a rich person?” I joke. “This place is huge. I have that whole downstairs area where I throw all the PR boxes that I don’t feel like opening. There’s plenty of extra space down there for your stuff.”
She smiles and it makes my heart speed up. She’s so goddamn beautiful. “Okay, that makes sense.”
“Good girl,” I say, reaching to grab my phone from the coffee table and pulling up the airline app. “I’ll buy your plane ticket.”
She opens her mouth to speak, but I interrupt. “Go ahead and argue with me. I can promise you spankings aren’t nearly as fun when you don’t get my cock afterward.”
She huffs in annoyance, crossing her arms over her chest. I lean forward, kissing her nose before I return to my phone and secure her flight to Chicago.
THIRTEEN
DIA
I tapethe top of the second full moving box closed before pushing it aside and grabbing an empty one. Sadly, I’m not sure I’ll need any more than this. When I moved into this place, I used the furniture that was left by the previous tenant. It was nicer than what I had, so I sold my stuff and used theirs. I had intended on saving the money for myself, but as she always does, whenever I start to build a little nest egg, my mom called saying she needed help.
I carefully slid the last of my shirts into the drawer, proud that I was able to carry all of my boxes into my new apartment and unpack everything by myself. It felt good to know I did it without needing help. At least I knew nobody could throw it in my face later if I couldn’t be at their beck and call.
My phone lit up on the dresser, vibrating against the hard wood as my mom’s name flashed across the screen. I blew out a breath, preparing myself to answer. She always had a self-serving reason for calling me. It was never just to see how I was doing or to make sure I didn’t need anything. It was the exactopposite for as long as I could remember, and I had a feeling that wasn’t going to change today.
“Hi, Mom,” I said in greeting, trying not to let the annoyance show in my voice. “How are you?”
