Chapter 19 #2
He licks the water dripping off his parted lips. “Fuck ‘em.”
It comes out gruff and gravelly, thickened with enough lust to drown us both as his lips come crashing into mine.
His tongue slips into my mouth as he rocks into me from behind, rolling his hips in time with each pass his palm makes over my cock.
Long, languid strokes, like we have all the time in the world, send zaps of pleasure rippling through my body at hyper speed.
It’s a juxtaposition I’ve never experienced: the hunger and need he kisses me with paired with the leisure in his touch.
It ignites something inside me until I’m engulfed in flames and burning alive.
And I love every single second of it.
Reaching back, my fingers knot in the wet strands of his hair and I push for more. Our tongues war against each other, lashing and thrusting in time with his hips until we’re both lost in the feel of each other. But it’s not enough.
I need him inside me. And I need it right fucking now.
A groan escapes me when his thumb teases the sensitive underside of my cock, and he breaks away, returning to my skin as he continues to torture me with his hand around my dick and every seductive roll of his hips.
“Want you,” I mutter when his teeth nip at the junction of my neck and shoulder. “Want you so fucking much.”
I know he wants me too. I can feel it with the way he rocks into me, his cock slipping and sliding between my ass cheeks. Rutting against me with long, measured thrusts that have me begging for more.
More contact, more heat, more friction.
More lingering caresses and scorching kisses and harsh bites.
My entire body screams for it, and with every addictive taste or blistering touch, he unravels me further. Groping, grasping, driving me fucking wild with desire the way no one ever has before.
“How much? Because…fuck, Quinn.” He sighs, his forehead pressing between my shoulder blades. “I’m hanging by a thread here.”
“I’ve never needed something more in my life.”
The thought of him fucking me? It scares me, yeah. Maybe more than anything else in the damn world. Yet, it also sends a thrill racing through me I’ve never felt before.
It’s new and exciting, and I want it.
His breath comes out in hot pants against my skin as he rolls his hips again. He’s not doing more than pressing against the tight rim, but I can feel the stretch already. Like all it would take is one smooth thrust and he’d be buried inside me.
Oakley’s made me more than acquainted with my prostate over the few weeks before our break started, but only ever with his fingers. Yet all I can think about now is the head of his cock brushing against the little pleasure button while he fucks me.
I’m vibrating with anticipation, waiting for him to do just that. If he did, I can’t even say I’d be mad about it, because I want him more than I want my next breath. More than I want to prove myself to my parents.
Hell, I want him more than I want that stupid trophy at the end of the season, and that’s just insane.
It should be enough to make an excuse for not having sex with my stupidly hot teammate. The guy I’m so in lust with, I can’t think straight. Or be straight, either.
But it doesn’t matter.
“Please,” I pant, pushing back toward him more. “Put me outta my misery. For the love of fucking God.”
“No condom.”
“You know we’ve both been cleared,” I say in rebuttal, knowing there’s no reason we can’t go without. Especially when the situation is this dire.
“True. And I’m sure sinking into you barrier-free will be nothing short of heaven. But we don’t have lube either.” He brushes a kiss on the back of my neck. “I’m not about to fuck you for the first time with body wash. That shit will sting like a motherfucker.”
My heart hammers in my chest, ricocheting against my ribs, and if I wasn’t so stupidly turned on, I’d come to my senses enough to say anything other than what I do next.
“Just do the tip. Give me something. Fuck.”
A stifled laugh comes from him, the heat of his breath against my skin sending lightning bolts down my spine. “Just the tip? Is that what you used to tell all those puck bunnies?”
I glance at him over my shoulder. “Actually, you’d be the first.”
Something about my answer lights a fire in his eyes. They burn with smoldering intensity I’ve only ever seen from him on the ice.
“You wanna play Just the Tip with me, de Haas?” Oakley arches a brow at me as he presses the head of his cock against my ass more. Enough to feel the rim stretching again, and God, if I don’t welcome the burn.
“I’ll take what I can get. Unless your infamous self-control can’t handle it.” My pulse pounds in my throat quick enough, I think the artery might burst. “Let’s put it to the test.”
His teeth skate along my shoulder before sinking into the muscle. The sharp bite of pain sends a zap of desire straight to my dick, making it ache for more. His mouth, his hand. His cock inside me. Anything would be better than the sheer torture he’s putting me through.
“Egging me on doesn’t work. You should know that by now.”
Well, that’s a blatant fucking lie if I’ve ever heard one, but two can play at that game.
“Mmm. But a guy can dream.”
And it might not be a dream at all. Because, to some extent, it’s working. I’m almost positive of it when I hear the telltale sound of him spitting right before I feel his fingers rubbing where his head presses against my hole.
“We’ve gotta work on your priorities if getting dicked down is high up on your list of aspirations. Now relax and let me in.”
He squeezes my shaft, rolling his thumb over the nerve just below the head, and it’s enough to ease the tension. The burn gets worse as he gives a couple more tentative thrusts before finally easing past the rim.
My ass clenches around the head like a vise, and I hiss out a low, “Fuck me.”
“Hmm,” he hums softly. “Maybe another time.”
“Or right now,” I counter, attempting to rock back into him. But his hands land on my hips, already one step ahead of me, and preventing me from taking more of him.
“Don’t move.” His tone leaves no room for debate on the matter. “If you start moving, I’ll pull right back out.”
“Fucking sadist.”
The hand around my cock squeezes again, this time hard enough to lean more toward pain than pleasure, earning him a glare. But he’s already glaring right back, brown eyes burning with more than just lust.
“You want a sadist? You want me to hurt you? Torture you? Fuck you so hard, you’re nothing but a bloody mess on the fucking tile floor afterward? Because that’s exactly what would happen if I pound into you the way you’re asking.”
“You’re already torturing me,” I pant, giving another push back, only to be immediately met with the resistance of his hold.
“You’re not ready,” he murmurs. “But I’ll make the wait worth it.”
He fucks into me slowly, stretching me with the thick head before easing back again. Each time, I beg him silently to lose control and slip in a little bit deeper. Honestly, I’m not above asking him to pound me into the shower wall; I’m that keyed up.
Fuck if I care about a little blood and pain. It makes the pleasure all the better.
But true to his word, he doesn’t do it. Doesn’t take me the way we both want, and it’s fucking infuriating. Only once does he slide in a little bit more, and the burning sensation starts all over again. Yet, it’s gotta be one of the best types of pain I’ve ever felt.
If only he’d give me more of it.
I let out a frustrated groan, more irritated at this point than anything else. But it quickly turns into a moan when the ridge of his tip brushes over the little magic spot inside me.
My prostate.
Also known as the key to an orgasm capable of sending me to another fucking dimension.
And holy shit, it does. Every single time Oakley’s touched the damn thing, I came buckets. Gallons, even, and harder and longer than I ever have with anyone else. I’m at that point already, and just from one fucking pass of his cock against it. I can’t go back to his fingers after feeling this.
“Fuck, right there,” I moan again when he swipes over it again, my head falling back against his shoulder. “More, Oak.”
He continues sinking into me slowly while I slide through his fist, the most exquisite kind of pressure filling and constricting me at the same time. It’s overwhelming, and it continues to hurtle me toward the edge of a cliff I’m desperate to jump from. One leading to pure fucking nirvana.
The noises he manages to rip straight from my chest are nothing short of animalistic. Like there’s no human left in me, just pure, carnal need.
“God, listen to you,” he rasps, the deep cadence of his voice strained. “So fucking needy for me, and I’ve barely given you anything.”
He’s right. If this is what he can do with only the head of his cock? I have no doubts he’ll reduce me to a panting, moaning mess with the whole thing. And if my responses are any indication, I’m sure to enjoy every second of it.
“More.” I turn my face, taking his bottom lip between my teeth and tugging. “Let me have it all.”
“Not happening.”
“Oak—”
“Ask again and I’ll stop right now.”
Goddamnit.
A wicked smile forms on his face at my silence before he brushes his lips against mine, and I don’t know if it makes me more desperate for him to fuck me like he means it or if I’d rather slap his smug-ass grin clean off his face.
But to hell if I’ll open my mouth and say a thing, because each and every pump of his hips shoots rockets of desire through my entire body, and I’m not ready for it to end.
Oakley’s free hand moves from my waist to my throat before offering a light squeeze. “Taunt me about self-control again, de Haas. I dare you. Because in the end, you’re gonna be the one who suffers.”
I’m ready to tell him it’s too late, I’m already suffering from the dire need to be fucked and filled as soon as humanly possible, but the words die on my lips as he pegs my prostate again and only a guttural groan breaks free.