Page 70 of Irresistibly Risky

He takes my hand, lacing our fingers together and helping me straddle his hips until I’m seated on his lap, my naked pussy over his hard cock, with only the thin cotton of his boxer briefs separating us. But as he gazes at me, brushing back a few wayward strands of hair from my face, he doesn’t seem to notice.

“My queen.” His fingers trace the lines of my face, his eyes following the movement. “Do you have any idea how in over my head I am with you? I’ve done nothing but think of you and Mason and football for the last two days.” Then he laughs. “For the last few weeks, more like.” His eyes pin mine as his hand cups my cheek. “And yet, for the first time in my life, I found myself wanting to be here with the two of you rather than out on that field tonight.” His gaze flickers back and forth between my eyes. “You’re owning my heart, Wynter Hathaway. I know you’re afraid I’m going to ruin yours, but I think for me, you’ve already ruined mine.”

I believe him. It’s a shuddering realization.

My heart trembles, making it hard to breathe.

With a restless fear low in my belly and on a shaky breath, my hand flattens against his chest, over his racing heart, and then I lean in and press my lips to his. I relinquish control. I hand him the reins. His focus is single-minded and entirely on me. This man turns my insides into a quivering mess of needy uncertainty, but at this point, what choice do I have but to throw caution to the wind and chance the irresistibly risky temptation he comes with?

My tongue dances with his, tasting and exploring, but all too quickly our kisses become urgent, fueled by lust. I rip my lips from his and throw his shirt up and over my head. It’s still dark in here, but by this point our eyes have adjusted enough that he can see me completely nude and straddling his cock.

He makes a noise in the back of his throat that is all male, rugged, and slightly deranged, and then his lips slam back down on mine as his hand comes up and cups my breast. His mouth ravages and consumes, his breaths hot and urgent against my own.

“Condom, now. I need to be inside you.” His control slips as his hand moves to my hair, and he tugs it in a way that ensures my full attention. Ensures I’ll comply, which I do. I scoot to my knees, my blood thrashing through my chest and ears, a heavy bass I’m positive he can hear.

He lifts up for me, and I remove his boxer briefs, allowing his long, thick cock to spring free. I’m like a virgin in a cheap porn film, about to ask if that thing will fit inside me. Then I remember he wasn’t hard that night in the bathroom, and panic ensues.

“No. Never mind.”

“What?” he chokes out a laugh.

I point at the massive, angry-looking beast. “You’re a football player. Really tall and seriously built, and I see now that comes with a certain caliber of equipment, but no thanks, I’m all set.”

He blinks. Then a smile takes over his entire face, and he starts cracking up. “You don’t think you can handle me?”

I shake my head. “It’s not I think. It’s I know. I might be tall myself and have some decent curves, but your son had to be removed from my body by a C-section because he was too big to fit down my… canal.” I take his fingers and run them over my C-section scar.

“Your canal?”

He’s mocking me now.

“Shut up, Asher. Your dick is too big to fit.”

He’s laughing. Hard.

“Stop laughing at me.”

I move to climb off his body, but his hands grip my hips, and he holds me firmly seated against him. “Sweetheart, my dick was made for your pussy. Is it going to be a tight fit? Sure. One I look forward to actually. But it will fit.”

“It’ll hurt.”

His features soften. “I promise if it hurts at first, you’ll adjust and then I’ll make it feel so good. I’ll go slow. I’ll get you nice and wet before I enter you, and if you want, I even have some lube we can use. Besides, the ice queen I know never backs down from a challenge or an occasion to prove me wrong. Prove me wrong, my queen. Prove to me that my big cock won’t fit in your tight little pussy. Prove to me that I’m too big to make you come over and over again.”

“I hate you.”

He nips my bottom lip. “First comes hate. Then comes love. Then comes marriage and the baby in the—oh wait, we did that last part already.”

I pinch his nipple, making him jerk and smack my hand away. “Ow. Those are sensitive. Okay. I can’t pin you to the bed because my shoulder couldn’t handle the weight, so I need you to ride me, sweetheart. Can you do that? Can you try?” He reaches between us and starts playing with my clit, rubbing it in soft circles that make my breath hitch and my nipples automatically tighten. He grins. “There it is. There’s my girl. That flush in your cheeks is the sweetest and sexiest thing. Start riding my cock like this. Move your pussy up and down against my shaft. Make it feel so good. Get yourself so wet.”

He begins to thrust up, and my breathing grows shallow. It does feel good. So good. And I want it inside of me. But to say I’ve never experienced a man his size is putting it mildly, and I’m not even trying to feed his ego here.

Between his fingers still rubbing my clit, his lips stealing kisses in between staring down at where our bodies are connected, and his dick rimming the edge of my opening, I’m starting to lose my cadence.

His lips layer with mine, and his crooked, arrogant-boy smirk only seems to make me hotter for him. “Are you on the pill?”

“No,” I admit. “I don’t do well with the hormones. Hence why you knocked me up in the bathroom.”

“Condom then.”

---