Page 61 of Wicked Scorn
With a growl that damn near sounds inhuman, I brace my weight on one arm and reach between us to rub tight circles over her swollen little bundle of nerves. Oakley’s back bows almost unnaturally, her mouth dropping open on a shrill scream as her orgasm slams into her with the force of a freight train.
“coming for me so good, baby. I’m gonna give you all of mine now.”
Her cries, her nails digging into me, and the flutter of her cunt’s spasms around my cock is my undoing. Snarling like a feral beast, I notch myself at her entrance once more and let go, my release tearing through me in hot spurts that seem to go on forever.
I watch as I paint her with my cum, some of it dripping out of her puffy little pussy and the rest of it covering her. I let her other leg go and then I scoop some of it up and shove it back into her abused hole before rubbing the rest into her pussy and upper thighs.
Fucking marking my girl.
For long moments, the only sound is our harsh pants and the thundering of my pulse in my ears. Slowly, I peel myself off of her, rolling to my side and gathering her pliant form against me. She burrows into my chest with a contented sigh, her eyes drifting shut as I trail my fingers through her sweat-damp hair.
“I know you said you don’t want to do the lessons anymore,” I murmur against the crown of her head, “and that’s fine. We don’t need the guise of them, but a deal is a deal, and I’m still going to protect you from anything and everything. So, you’ll be in my bed every night from now on. No arguments.”
Oakley stiffens slightly, those captivating blue eyesflicking up to search my face. I meet her gaze steadily, letting her see the implacable resolve burning there. I won’t be denied, not when it comes to her.
To her credit, she doesn’t flinch from my dominance, that small spark of sass flickering behind her eyes. “Sure, pretty boy,” she murmurs, a teasing lilt to her tone.
Growling, I nip at her plump lower lip, delighting in the way she shivers. “Such a brat,” I chide gruffly. “But you’re truly mine now.”
We lay together in bed for another hour as I trail my hands through her hair, down her back, over and over. Only interrupted by the occasional kiss I place on the top of her head as she swirls her fingertips across my chest. Drawing random patterns that only she can see.
Eventually, the real world can’t be ignored any longer. With a weary groan, I force myself out of the tangled sheets and Oakley’s arms to grab clothes out of my dresser. I can feel her eyes tracking my movements as I dress, searing a path over my skin.
“Where are you going?” she asks, propping herself up on her elbows to gaze at me with doe eyes.
“Practice,” I grunt, tugging my shirt over my head and trying not to focus on the delicious way she looks in my rumpled bed, all tousled hair and kiss-swollen lips. “Coach will have my ass if I’m late again.”
Oakley’s brow furrows into an adorable pout that makes me want to drag her back beneath the sheets and never leave this room. “Do you have to go?” she asks, her voice taking on that breathy, needy tone that has become my undoing.
“Baby.” She knows I do and if I could skip it I would.
“Cough, cough. I think you’re sick. Let’s take your temp.”She’s so fucking cute at her attempt at trying to get me out of football practice.
Gritting my teeth, I force myself to grab my duffel bag and head for the door before I give in to the temptation writhing in my bed. “I’ll be back as soon as it’s over,” I toss over my shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Her soft laughter follows me down the hall. “Yes, teach.”
By the time I reach the practice field, I look down at my phone to check the time and see I’m actually going to be on fucking time. Maybe even early. Thank fuck, because I did not want to hear Coach bitching at me. He does enough of that with Lincoln and Penn.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that I almost don’t hear the raised voices carrying across the empty field. Frowning, I slow my steps, straining to make out the words over the pounding of my pulse from my trek across campus.
“…getting out of hand, Robert.” Coach’s gruff tone is laced with a weariness I’ve never heard from the hard ass before. “Your boys are a nightmare to deal with, and their behavior is becoming a serious liability.”
“Those ‘boys’ happen to be the best players on your pathetic little team,” a familiar, oily voice sneers. My jaw clenches at the sound of my father’s disdain. “You’re lucky to have them, you insignificant prick.”
“Enough!” Coach’s bellow makes me flinch, a growl rumbling in my chest. “I don’t give a fuck how much money you throw at this team. Your sons are completely out of control, and I’m at the end of my rope with dealing with their bullshit with this fucking school!”
My brow furrows as I inch closer, peering around the corner of the equipment shed to see Coach squaring off with my father. Robert Blackwood is leaning back against the brick wall, his expression one of bored disdain as he examines his nails.
“Are you quite done with your tantrum?” he drawls, those cold eyes flicking up to pin Coach with a look of utter contempt. “I don’t pay you to whine about disciplining my boys. That’s your job. If you can’t handle it, I’ll find someone who can.”
Coach’s face is mottled with rage, his fists clenched at his sides. For a moment, I think he might actually take a swing at my father. But then his shoulders slump in resignation, and he shakes his head with a bitter scoff.
“You know what?” he grits out through clenched teeth. “Fuck you, Robert. I’m done putting up with your bullshit, Blackwood. Get your sons to keep their shit under lock and key, and this wouldn’t even be a problem.”
With that, Coach storms off into the field, his heavy footsteps fading into the distance. For a long moment, my father remains utterly still, his expression unreadable. Then his lip curls into a cruel sneer.
“Idiot,” he mutters, shoving off from the wall and straightening his suit jacket. “People don’t tell me what to do. I simply end them.”
