Chapter 13
Hennessy
The way he growls those words at me in the restaurant—that's exactly what I want. The real Beckham Kingston, not the uptight coach everyone else gets.
The elevator ride is silent, so much tension I can barely breathe.
He doesn't touch me, but his eyes never leave me, predatory and dark.
When we reach my floor, I walk ahead of him, feeling his gaze burning into my back.
My hands shake slightly as I fumble with the key card, excitement and anticipation making my movements clumsy.
The lock clicks, and I barely get the door open before Beckham's pushing me inside. The door slams behind us, and in one fluid motion, he spins me around, pressing me face-first against it. His massive body cages me in.
“Beckham—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“Shut up.” His hand slides down my side, over my hip, then straight down the front of my leggings. No hesitation, no asking permission. His fingers find me instantly, and fuck, I'm already wet for him.
“Spread your legs,” he commands, kicking my feet apart with his own.
“Fuck,” I gasp as his middle finger slides through my folds.
His other hand grips my jaw, turning my head to the side. His breath is hot against my cheek, his beard scratching my skin as he leans in close.
“You wanted this?” he growls, voice feral and dangerous. “Now you're gonna take everything I've been holding back.”
His mouth crashes into mine, the kiss brutal and possessive. His beard scrapes against my skin, and I can taste whiskey on his tongue as it forces its way between my lips.
His fingers circle my clit roughly, and I moan into his mouth. He's not being gentle, not taking his time. This isn't about making me feel good; it’s about so much more.
“You think you can tease me?” he growls against my ear, his teeth nipping at my lobe. “Think you can push me and push me and there won't be consequences?”
I try to answer, but his fingers slide inside me, two at once, and all that comes out is a broken whimper. He curls them forward, finding that spot that makes my knees buckle, and I have to brace myself against the door to stay upright.
“Answer me,” he demands, his hand moving from my jaw to my throat, applying just enough pressure to make my pulse race.
“I—fuck—I knew there would be,” I gasp as his thumb circles my clit. “That's why I did it.”
“Then you're about to get exactly what you wanted,” he growls, pulling his fingers out of me.
Before I can even catch my breath, he's yanking my sweater over my head and throwing it somewhere behind him. His hands are everywhere at once, rough and demanding as he tears my leggings down my legs.
“Step out,” he commands, and I kick them away, now standing in just my bra and panties.
He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my underwear and rips them clean off me. The sound of tearing fabric makes me gasp, but there's no time to react before he's unhooking my bra with one practiced motion.
“You're fucking perfect,” he says, his eyes raking over my naked body. His hands are already working at his own clothes, yanking his sweatshirt off to reveal that broad chest covered in dark hair.
I reach for his belt, but he slaps my hands away. “Don't fucking move.”
He strips with efficiency—jeans, boxer briefs, socks—until he's gloriously naked in front of me, his cock standing thick and proud against his stomach.
Without warning, he grabs me by the waist and practically drags me across the room. “You like putting on a show?” he snarls, spinning me around to face the window. “Let's give anyone crazy enough to be out in this storm something to see.”
He pushes me against the freezing glass, and I cry out as my breasts flatten against it. The cold is shocking against my heated skin, my nipples hardening instantly.
“Fuck! Beckham, it's freezing!” I gasp, trying to push back from the window.
His hand slides between my shoulder blades, forcing me back against the glass. “Don't move. You wanted my attention? Now the whole fucking world gets to see what happens when you get it.”
I look out at the snowy night, at the buildings across the street with their windows lit up. Can they see us? Is someone watching right now as Beckham spreads my legs?
“Anyone could see us,” I whisper, but I'm not trying to get away anymore. The thought of being watched, of someone seeing me get fucked by this man, sends a perverse thrill through me.
“That's right,” he says, his cock sliding between my ass cheeks. “Let them see who you belong to.”
He kicks my feet further apart, positioning himself at my entrance. I can feel him, hot and hard against my slit, and I push back, desperate to feel him inside me.
“Please,” I whimper, my breath fogging the glass in front of me.
“Please what?” he demands, teasing me with just the tip.
“Please fuck me,” I beg, pressing my forehead against the cold window.
He slams into me with one brutal thrust, filling me completely. I scream, my hands slapping against the glass as I try to brace myself.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, gripping my hips hard enough to bruise as he sets a punishing pace. Each thrust slams me against the window, my breasts dragging against the cold glass.
I'm completely exposed, my naked body on display for anyone who might be looking. The thought makes me clench around him, my pussy gripping his cock like it never wants to let go.
“You like that?” Beckham growls, one hand sliding up to tangle in my hair, yanking my head back. “Like knowing someone could be watching you take my dick right now?”
“Yes,” I gasp, the word barely audible as he pounds into me relentlessly. “God, yes.”
His hips snap against my ass with force, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing through the room. My cheek is pressed against the window now, my breath creating small patches of fog that quickly disappear with each exhale.
“Look at you,” he snarls, his pace increasing impossibly. “Fucking desperate for it. Would you let them all watch if I asked? Let them see what a needy princess you are for me?”
His words should offend me, but they don't. They make me wetter, needier, pushing back to meet each punishing thrust.
“Only for you,” I moan.
Suddenly, he pulls out completely. I whimper at the loss, but before I can protest, he's dropping to his knees behind me. His strong hands grip my thighs, and he hoists my right leg up, resting it against his shoulder.
“Hold still,” he commands, his breath hot against my soaked pussy.
His tongue slides through my folds in one long, devastating lick, and my head falls forward with a moan that's probably loud enough for the whole floor to hear. I don't care. All I care about is his mouth on me, devouring me like he's starving.
“Fuck, you taste just as good as you did last night,” he groans against me, his beard scratching the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. “Better than anything.”
“Beckham,” I whimper. “Oh god, don't stop.”
He devours me like a starving man who’s just seen an oasis. His tongue travels lower, tracing the sensitive skin between my holes before it presses against my ass. I jerk forward in shock, but his grip tightens, holding me in place.
I cry out as his tongue circles my ass, teasing the tight ring of muscle. No one has ever done this to me before.
“You like that, don't you?” he says against my sensitive flesh.
He slides his thick fingers inside me while his tongue continues its assault on my back entrance, and I nearly collapse from the dual sensation.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” I chant, my hips rocking back against his face shamelessly. “Beckham, I'm gonna—”
“That's it,” he murmurs, his voice vibrating against me. “Show them how pretty you look when you come for me.”
His fingers curl inside me, hitting that perfect spot while his tongue presses more insistently against my ass. My pussy clenches violently around his fingers as I scream his name, my entire body convulsing against the cold window.
Before I can even catch my breath, Beckham stands and yanks me off the glass. In one fluid motion, he hoists me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing, one large hand slapping my ass hard enough to make me yelp.
He stalks across the room like some kind of predator with his prey.
He throws me onto the bed with enough force that I bounce, landing sprawled on my back with my legs splayed open. My skin is freezing from the window but burning up from the inside, sensitive and tingling from my orgasm.
“Look at you,” he says, standing at the foot of the bed, stroking his cock with one hand. “Fucking soaked and spread open for me.”
“Turn over,” he commands, his voice like gravel.
I barely have time to process before his hands are on me, flipping me over like I'm nothing. He yanks my hips up roughly, and I scramble to get my knees under me, my face pressed into the mattress.
“Arch your back,” he growls, one hand sliding up my spine to fist in my hair. He pulls, forcing my back into a deep curve, my ass high in the air. “Like that. Fucking perfect.”
“Please,” I whimper, not even sure what I'm begging for anymore.
“Please what?” He tugs my hair harder, sending sharp prickles of pain across my scalp that somehow intensify the throbbing between my legs. “Please fuck you? Please make you scream? Please make you forget every other cock that's ever been inside this tight cunt?”
“Yes,” I gasp. “All of it. Please, Beckham.”
I feel the blunt head of his cock against my entrance, but instead of pushing in, he drags it slowly through my folds, collecting my wetness. Up and down, teasing me mercilessly.
“Fuck,” I moan, trying to push back against him, but his grip in my hair tightens, holding me in place.
“Stay. Fucking. Still.” Each word is punctuated by a tap of his cock against my clit, making me jerk and gasp.
He slides his dick higher, between my ass cheeks, and I tense as he presses it against my asshole. Not pushing in, just applying pressure, letting me feel him there.