Chapter 31
VINCENT
The kiss started out as no more than a brush of warmth in the night, but that was enough to unravel me. It wasn’t about the kiss itself—it was about the woman, and the fact I’d never craved someone the way I did her.
Her scent, her taste, the sound of her moans—I needed them the way I needed oxygen. In my lungs, in my blood, in every fucking molecule of my body. She was wrapped up around me, her body pressed against mine, yet I still ached from missing her.
I cupped the back of her head, drawing her closer. I slid my other palm over her thigh, savoring the hitch in her breath when I grazed the hem of her dress.
“Are you cold?” I asked huskily. “We can go inside.”
Heat seeped through her tights and seared into my palms, but we were still in the middle of the pitch during winter.
She shook her head. “No,” she breathed. “I’m burning up.”
A slow smile spread across my face. “Good.”
I crushed my mouth to hers again. Her lips parted in a soft moan, and I took full advantage, sliding my tongue against hers in a hungry, possessive sweep that made her gasp.
The kiss deepened, turning frantic, almost ravenous.
She tugged at my coat; I pushed her dress up around her waist and yanked her tights and underwear down. Despite our layers of clothing, we somehow shed them effectively enough for me to feel the press of her skin against mine.
She was smooth and warm and so fucking soft as she wound around me, urging me on with each movement. I angled her head and kissed her harder, threading my fingers through her hair and savoring her minty sweet taste.
I could stay like this forever. There could be an earthquake, a cyclone, I didn’t care. The world could end, and I’d still be right here with her, where I was meant to be.
“Vincent.” Brooklyn moaned, her breath catching. “I want to feel you inside me. Right now.”
Fuck. She was going to be the death of me, and she didn’t even know it.
I moved to roll her on her back, but she shook her head. “I want to be on top.” She flipped us over so I lay on the pitch while she straddled me, looking like a goddamn goddess backlit by the stadium lights.
Her hair fell in messy, tangled waves over her shoulders. Her face was flushed and her mouth was swollen from our kiss, but the devilish gleam in her eyes sent blood rushing straight to my cock. So did the peaked points of her nipples, which poked through the delicate silk of her dress.
“You sure you want to be in charge tonight, buttercup?” A noticeable strain tempered the amusement in my voice. I was rock-fucking-hard, and the only thing I could focus on was how much I wanted to tear that silk away with my teeth and feast on her nipples.
Brooklyn smiled, the gleam in her eyes growing brighter. She freed my cock from my trousers and rolled on the condom she’d gotten out of her bag.
“Sometimes I like to be in the driver’s seat. So sit back…” She wrapped her hand around my cock, and I had to bite back a stream of expletives. “Relax…” She guided me toward her pussy. “And enjoy the ride.”
She sank onto me with agonizing slowness. I could feel every inch of my cock sliding inside her while she clenched around me, sending electric bolts of pleasure down my spine.
My head fell back as my breaths grew heavy. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good.”
Brooklyn moaned. She placed her hands on my chest to steady herself as she rode me, and if I wasn’t already on the brink of losing control, her little whimpers and the wet sounds of her pussy impaling itself on my cock would’ve sent me there.
Sweat broke out on my skin. I grabbed her hips, forcing her to slow down so I didn’t come before I was ready.
“What’s wrong?” she teased breathlessly. “Can’t handle it?”
My mouth quirked even as a dangerous tone slid into my voice. “Don’t make me turn you over and fuck that brattiness out of you.”
Blotches of pink blossomed across her face and chest. “You wouldn’t dare,” she said, but the way her pussy spasmed at my words told a different story.
“Try me.”
Brooklyn leaned forward, taking me at a different, deeper angle. I hissed in pleasure.
She smiled, back in control. “I’ll do you one better. Remember that bet we made the first time we had sex? Let’s change it up. I bet I can make you beg to come tonight.”
“Sweetheart, if you can make me beg, you deserve to win.”
It was a promise as much as it was a challenge, and Brooklyn never shied away from either.
She leaned back and rode me harder, squeezing her muscles so tightly it almost made me black out.
When I finally returned to my senses, I grabbed the back of her head and pulled her back down for a rough kiss.
I reached between us without breaking the kiss and rolled her nipple between my fingers, tugging and pinching in a way that I knew drove her wild.
Brooklyn made a noise somewhere between a moan and a cry. “Bastard,” she whispered.
I smiled against her mouth. “All’s fair in sex and war.”
She pushed me back down. “We’ll see about that.”
We settled into a desperate, breathless rhythm—her riding me to the edge, then pulling back right before I came, while I did everything I could to hold back a cursed plea.
But eventually, I broke.
This was Brooklyn. I was too lost in her not to.
“Fuck.” I cursed when she gently scraped her nails down my chest and clenched around me again.
My breathing quickened. A ball of electric heat gathered at the base of my spine, building and building but never quite reaching its peak thanks to Brooklyn’s fast and slow rhythm—fast enough to bring me to the edge, then slowing down once I got there.
“Enough games. Let me come, sweetheart.”
She scraped her nails back up under my shirt and across my nipples. Another jolt of pleasure buzzed through my nerves. “Only if you say please,” she purred.
“Please.” My breaths turned into pants when she moaned and picked up speed again.
I didn’t care about the damn bet anymore. Brooklyn needed this as much as I did—I felt it in the way her muscles quivered and heard it in the way her voice hitched. I wanted to reach the peak with her. Right now, together.
I grabbed her ass, my fingers digging into the soft flesh as I slammed my cock up at the same time she thrust downward. Our groans and grunts blended together as she rode me faster and harder until finally, finally, we came at the same time with loud cries.
The sound echoed through the stadium as we caught our breath, our bodies trembling from the aftershocks of our shared orgasm.
“I won,” she said with such a proud smile that I couldn’t help but laugh.
“You did. Making me say ‘please’ is no small accomplishment.” I rubbed my thumb against the soft skin of her hip. She was still straddling me, and I could feel my cock twitching again.
It should be impossible, but when it came to her, I was insatiable.
“I made you beg,” Brooklyn corrected.
“Hmm. I wouldn’t count one ‘please’ as begging.”
She tsked with mock disappointment. “Don’t be a sore loser.”
Sore loser, huh? We’d see about that.
I gave her another minute to bask in her triumph before I grabbed her and flipped her over so she was on all fours. I pinned her beneath me, nudging her legs open with my knee and replacing my used condom with a fresh one.
Her breath stuttered. “What are you doing?” she squealed.
“You want to talk about begging?” My lips grazed her ear. “Don’t act so smug when I haven’t had my turn yet.”
She squirmed against me, pressing her ass against my groin. My cock thickened, growing harder by the second. “Oh, I doubt you can beat my record.”
“Let’s see, shall we?” I reached for my phone and set the timer.
Brooklyn stilled. “Are you seriously setting a timer for making me come?” I could hear the shock in her voice.
“I like clear rules and guidelines,” I explained. “I even gave you an extra minute out of the goodness of my heart.”
“You are such an arrogant—ungh!” She let out a gurgled cry when I slammed into her. She was still soaked from our last session, and I managed to bury myself balls deep with ease.
“What was that?” I taunted.
Her hands curled into fists against the grass. “I said, you’re such a…a…oh, God.” She cried out again when I pulled out and pounded into her again, angling my cock so it hit her most sensitive spot.
I’d acquainted myself with her body so intimately that I knew exactly how to drive her crazy. She was so goddamn responsive, and I picked up on every detail.
The way her breath hitched when I played with her clit.
The way she bucked against me when I alternated between long, smooth strokes and shorter, harder thrusts.
And the way her cunt clenched and convulsed when I held her down, fucking her mercilessly in the middle of the pitch until she was begging me to let her come.
“Please. Vincent, please,” she sobbed when I slowed my thrusts again. “I need to—let me—I need…”
“What do you need, sweetheart? Use your words.” I leaned over her, one hand on her hip and the other braced on the ground next to her. Heat poured off her body, and I wanted to bury myself in her neck, breathing in her scent and feeling the wild flutter of her pulse against my skin.
I got off on competition, but I got off on pleasuring her more. Seeing her smile, hearing her moan—it was better than the world’s strongest aphrodisiac.
“I need to come.” Brooklyn whimpered. “Please. Let me come.”
I kissed her tenderly on the shoulder. “All you had to do was ask.”
I thrust into her again. At the same time, I reached around and pressed my thumb against her swollen, needy clit.
Just like that, she came apart, her scream tearing through the night right as the timer went off. It didn’t take me long to join her, and when the throes of our orgasms finally receded, we collapsed next to each other in an exhausted heap.
“Let’s call that a tie,” she said drowsily. “One-one.”
I chuckled. “I’ll put it on our scoreboard.” I pulled down her dress and adjusted the rest of her clothes, covering her up with her coat before I got dressed.
Now that we were cooling off, I felt the bite of the wind again. We should head inside soon, but I wanted to stay just a moment longer so I could soak her in—her happy smile and sparkling eyes, the rosy blush on her cheeks as she stretched her arms over her head.
“I take back what I said earlier. This was the best gift ever,” she said. “Having sex on a football pitch? Inspired.”
“I aim to please.” I gave her a soft kiss. “Now let’s get out of here before we get sick, or someone figures out we’ve defiled the pitch.”
“I can finally check that off my bucket list. I never thought it would happen.” Brooklyn’s smile softened as she wrapped her arms around my neck. She brushed her lips against mine. “Happy Christmas, DuBois.”
Warmth surged through my chest. My throat tightened, but I pulled her closer and murmured, “Merry Christmas, buttercup.”
And as we walked back to my car, her hand in mine, I realized that the most dangerous person in my world wasn’t the intruder or my birth mom or any rival footballer.
It was Brooklyn, because she was the only person alive with the power to unravel me.