22. JED #2
I slide my fingers into his crease and skim them over his hole. His eyes shoot wide, and he bucks into me so hard I almost stumble backward. I recover, and a grin slides over my face. A giddy, devious excitement swims through my veins.
I slide my cock from my hand’s grasp and give Shane my full attention. God, the way he looks right now, those blue eyes impossibly wide, mouth parted in a perfect circle, the perfect place to sink into—it’s sinful.
My cock jumps against his thigh. I massage around his hole, sometimes skimming over, other times teasing just out of reach.
Those wide eyes dart around in panic, and his mouth slams shut as a muffled moan vibrates in his throat, strangled and choked back.
My cock pulses, my muscles tightening. Such a pretty fucking sound.
His body is a riot of confusion in my hands, fucking my fist while trying to push back on my finger, pleading for more.
But I only tease. Those sensitive nerve endings deserve love too.
I slip over his hole, gentle, tormenting.
A sharp inhale escapes Shane before he presses his lips tight again.
Stifled whimpers try to break free. His cheeks are deep crimson now, the flush blooming down his neck and chest.
I massage faster, and he loses control. His hands scramble over the tile walls, then land on me. Frantic. Nails biting. His eyes plead with me to help him. I take pity on him and lean into him.
“Bite me,” I whisper, and then tighten my fist and stroke fast and short, giving all my attention to his crown.
His teeth clamp down on my shoulder, and it’s me who almost makes the noise. Fuck. But it’s the sexiest pain I’ve ever felt.
His body convulses against mine, his hole pulsing against my finger. My dick jerks, and I can almost feel that hole pulsing around me. My balls ache, the pressure clawing its way tighter and tighter. Choked, muffled sobs fall from him, and he tries to bury his face into me harder.
He slumps against me, hot panting breaths dancing over my skin.
It throbs where he bit me. I’ll have to be sure to hide that when I go out into the locker room.
I really hope his moans were soft enough to be drowned out by the spray of the shower.
Right now, I’m just praying no one is even left out there at this point.
He pushes off me, body still trembling. But a strong, sure hand lands on my chest, walks me through the shower stream, and shoves me back until I hit the wall.
My eyebrows fly up. He slowly drops to his knees, eyes never leaving mine.
I don’t have time to process. He leans forward and swallows my dick.
He dives in like he’s sucked dick his whole life.
This fucking guy. He lives life without reservation, goes forward boldly with confidence and eagerness. And it’s so fucking sexy.
Not sexier than him bobbing up and down on my cock, though.
My thighs lock tight, bliss surging forward. Hot. Thick. Heavy. Those lips look perfect stretched around me, cheeks normally popping dimples now hollowed as he sucks me. Fuck, it’s perfect. Too perfect. The pleasure coils; it’s going to snap. I’m going to fly over.
I fist his hair and yank him off me. My free hand shoots to my dick and flies over it in a blur. That’s all it takes for me to go up in flames. Bliss tears through me, and I tighten my hold on Shane, and his mouth pops open on a sharp breath.
I pump my shaft as my body is wracked with wave after wave of pleasure.
My cum paints his lips, chin, neck, and chest. Fuck, he’s a vision.
Blond hair darkened and curling from the shower, blush still coloring his cheeks, lips swollen and dripping with my cum.
All while on his knees for me. My body jerks again, as a final streak of pleasure shoots through me, then I collapse against the wall, knees shaking.
He lifts a hand and swipes some cum from his mouth—then pops the finger into his mouth and sucks it clean. I groan. He pinches my thigh, and I jump. I throw him a glare, but he just wings a smartass brow.
He stands and leans in. “Tsk, tsk, Storm Cloud. No noise, remember?”
Oh, the infuriating brat. My heart does a foolish leap at his sass, and I grunt to cover it up.
My hand twitches with the need to rub my sternum.
I’m afraid whatever I’m feeling inside is written all over my face.
He can’t know he has any sort of effect on me.
He doesn’t. It’s just the post-orgasm high.
To be safe, I distract him. I lean forward and claim his mouth, my hand gripping his hip hard.
Despite my unyielding hold, our lips move soft and slow, the salt of sex on our tongues.
He melts against me, and it feels like something we shouldn’t be sharing.
But for once, I let myself have the moment, of closeness, of connection.
A moment of weakness. Something that has been becoming all too common around this man.
He pulls away, blue eyes hazy. “Damn, roomie. That was something.”
I can’t deny the smugness that flows through me at his breathlessness and how off-balance he looks after that kiss.
Wait. “What did you say?”
A mischievous glint enters those ocean-blue eyes, and I’m immediately on high alert.
“Since obviously we have to keep doing this.” He leans in and lowers his voice. “For the team.” He gives me an exaggerated wink. “I had this great idea that would make it so much easier for us.”
“What did you do?”
“I went to the skipper and asked him if we could be roomies for the next stint of away games. You know. So we can keep boning.” He coughs. “I mean…bonding.”
I cross my arms and lift an eyebrow. I go for as exasperated as I can, but inside a full-on marching band with drums and cymbals just took up residence. Roommates. For the next two weeks.
He leans in and plants a hand on my chest. “Naked bonding.”
For the next two weeks.
He pushes off and grabs my towel, then cracks open the shower door. He turns back. “Oh, and that was a fun game. But everyone had already left before I snuck in here.” He blows me a kiss and struts out, cocky as you please.
I scrub a hand down my face, a half-laugh, half-groan leaving me. What have I gotten myself into?