Page 24 of Protecting Player #73
“Have you seen it?” There’s a vulnerability in the question, leaving him cut open and laid bare for me to see.
Shaking my head, I explain, “I didn’t want to. Didn’t feel the need to see the man I’ve loved for years with another woman. It was already an invasion of privacy that she shared, and you don’t need the world looking at you through that lens forever.”
“You’re a fucking miracle.”
He lifts me and drags me over to his lap so I’m straddling his hips. His lips begin sliding along my throat, sending a flutter of butterflies through my belly. A moan escapes me when his hands move up my thighs and under the hem of my dress. His fingers slip into the band of my thong, tug, and make me jump before tearing them right off, leaving me exposed for his exploration.
“Let me in, pup, just the tip again.”
I whimper then gasp when his hand moves to pull the waistband of his sweats down, freeing his cock. I moan at theheat of him, begging silently for the friction on my clit that’ll rocket me into an orbit of pleasure only he can provide.
“Yessss,” I hiss as his fingers reach my clit, stroking it in light circular motions before one slips down to my opening and glides along the edges. It makes me squirm. “Please, Tate.”
“You going to let me in, pup?” His lip curls into a feral snarl, and I swallow nervously before nodding.
He shifts my hips forward and, without hesitation, slips the head in. Breaching and stretching me, warming me up for the day that he finally takes my virginity.
I’m transfixed in the haze that is T.K. Weston, so when he pinches my clit, forcing a scream from my lips, I practically sob as the orgasm rolls over me and triggers his own. His vocal response is startling, and I can tell that he wants to slam my body down his length, nestling in tight, but he holds back. However, his bruising grip on my hips is almost too much to bear. I’m sure I’ll be black and blue, anticipating the proof of his need for me.
“Fuck, Brea. It’s not normal how easily you set me off.” His guttural groan makes me shiver.
“I love that power,” I whisper into his neck, kissing the flesh before taking a nip like he does to me.
I yelp after a sharp slap on my ass and lift my head to stare at him. “Be a good girl.” There’s a promise in his eyes I would love to explore.
“We have to go,” I whisper. I don’t want to be late for my parents’ house.
Narrowing his eyes at me, he gauges whether we really have to go or if I’m shying away from the spanking. In truth, I kind of liked it. I won’t reveal that just yet, however. It’s good to keep the dominant man on his toes from time to time.
“Fine,” he pouts, and I laugh as I climb off his lap, his fluids swiftly leaking down my legs. The man doesn’t miss a beat; he’squick to grip my leg and lift my skirt to watch. Fascination lines his face as he leans forward to nip at me.
“T.K.!” I shout, jumping back.
He licks his lips with a shit-eating grin. I glare playfully at him before walking away, intending to don the new dress and shoes before fixing my hair and makeup.
As I re-braid a link of hair, he leans against the door to the bathroom, watching me curiously. “What?” I sigh, unable to withstand his scrutiny any longer.
“Just wondering…why the braids, the dresses, the jewelry?” He’s not passing judgment, so I don’t get defensive.
“Did you ever watchThe Hunchback of Notre Damemovie when you were a kid?” He shakes his head. “Esmerelda was beautiful. She wore gorgeous skirts and dresses and always had braids or ribbons in her hair. She was free in her style and thinking, and it left an imprint on me. I loved her and wanted to be just like her. If only I had her confidence, it would be complete.” I laugh to take the sting out of my words, because in truth, having confidence is something I struggle with.
“I think you’re stunning, Brea. Dresses, braids, or jewelry, you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever encountered.” A blush warms my neck and face as he shuffles in closer, gripping a lock of my hair and fashioning his own braid. “No matter how you look, I’ll always desire you. You know that, right?”
From the expression in his eyes, I do now.
Chapter 17
T.K
Brea doesn’t notice me, not at first, which allows me to admire her. She concentrates on the braids until they’re just right, pulling her hair back to see where she wants to add more or remove one or two. Her movements are thoughtful and unhurried.
The dress she bought today is even more stunning up close, hugging her slight curves. It’s a simple garment, yet she’s like a figure out of a painting. The color softens her, showcasing her natural calmness, while drawing out the warmth and confidence she carries like a second skin.
I love her femininity–from the dresses she wears with matching shoes, to the ribbons in her hair. Everything somehow just fits her perfectly, like each piece of clothing has been carefully crafted for her and her alone.
Watching Brea like this, catching a quiet moment hidden from the world, she’s my little secret, and I wish it could stay this way forever. There’s something appealing about how unaware she is of her beauty, how she never tries to impress anyone. She’s always herself, and in those layers of unawareness lies a rarenessthat makes me realize how lucky I am and just how much I love her.
“What?” She’s caught me, and still, I can’t stop staring. Especially after she explains her elegance and why she chose her particular style.
