Brayden #3
He took my hand in his and inspected it, brushing his fingers over my knuckles. “I don’t like you fighting.”
“He touched my goalie.”
“Yours, huh?” I nodded, and he smiled. “Yeah, I like it here too.”
“Let’s go home so you can fuck me.”
“Yeah?” Spencer ground himself against my hard length, and I dropped my head back with a moan. “And if I say you need to be taught a lesson for fighting?”
“Teach me whatever lesson you want. After you get your dick in my ass.”
On a good day, the ride to the apartment was thirty minutes tops, but sitting in game traffic for over an hour with Spencer’s hand on my cock was torture.
When I finally pulled into the lot, we had to wait for the elevator.
The thirtieth floor couldn’t come fast e-fucking-nough.
I was ready to have him inside me the moment I turned off the engine in the parking garage.
Instead, Spencer forced me into the elevator, pressed his back to my front, and ground his ass along my length, teasing me with those sinful hips and that luscious ass of his.
Then he made me wait to get into our apartment. I stumbled after him as he held my hand and dragged me down the corridor. He fumbled the swipe card on the lock, and I sucked a mark into his shoulder while I ground my cock against his ass.
The door swung open, and I fell forward into the space Spencer had vacated.
He caught me, kicked the door closed, then spun me around and pressed my cheek against the drywall.
He pinned my hands at the small of my back and nudged my legs together.
He held me in place with his hips, and I closed my hands around his shirt. I didn’t want him to move.
“You’re going to leave your hands behind your back, or I’ll stop,” he ordered.
I nodded frantically and cried out when he tugged his shirt out of my hands and stepped back.
He made quick work of my clothes, leaving me completely naked in front of him. My cock was hard, leaking from my slit, and my balls were already drawn up tight. But my hole was empty, and I was desperate to have his length stretching me as he rutted into me, slaking his lust.
I moaned when he ran his hands down my sides to my hips and pulled them back so I was bent at the hips, then parted my cheeks.
My face was still pressed against the wall.
He tapped on my calf, silently asking me to widen my stance, before his heated breath washed over my hole.
I hissed when he ran his stubbled cheek over the sensitive skin of my ass, my hole puckering tight.
“You want my tongue on you, don’t you?”
“Fuck. More than anything,” I gasped.
He tightened his grip on my cheeks. The first swipe of his tongue over my hole set me on fire.
The next stole my sanity. I was making noises that weren’t human, moans, groans, and grunts that were desperate and hungry for more.
He teased my rim with the point of his tongue, then flattened it and licked over my hole with fast licks and slow swipes before he hardened his tongue and pressed inside, stretching me.
My cock was leaking, each drip from my slit landing on the gleaming porcelain floors between my legs.
Every inch of my skin was sensitive. Spencer trailed his hands over me, up and down the backs of my legs before moving to the front.
He held my hips steady as I rode his face, and he scraped his blunt nails down my abs to my pubes before diverting back up to tweak my taut nipples.
The material of his jersey was rough against my skin, as were the callouses on his fingers from his guitar.
“Please,” I begged, needing more. I was desperate for his touch, my cock ready to explode the minute he got his hand around me.
“Spencer pulled back, and I shivered, instantly missing his heat against me. His belt buckle clinked as he undid it, and the thought of me being completely naked while he was still fully dressed had me wishing he’d just unzip and fuck me right here.
I heard the rasp of his zipper and then the schlick, schlick, schlick of lube as Spencer coated himself.
My eyes slipped closed, and I exhaled on a moan as he did exactly what I’d been wanting him to do.
Barely a moment later, his heat was pressed against me once more, the head of his cock nudging my needy hole.
“Fuck me,” I begged, tilting my hips back, trying to tempt him into impaling me.
“Brace yourself against the wall,” he rasped.
When I did what he instructed, he closed one hand around my wrists and with the other guided himself into me. The stretch was immediate, bordering on a burn. I sucked in a long breath and exhaled slowly, willing my keyed-up body to relax.
“Ah, fuck,” I moaned as he breached me fully. He didn’t give me a chance to catch my breath, sliding in to the hilt in one slow glide. I fucking loved the way he did that. The bite of pain and pleasure mingled until I was cross-eyed with lust and stuffed full of his cock like a Thanksgiving turkey.
“So fuckin’ tight, Texas,” he grunted. “Not gonna last.”
“Do it, then,” I ordered, desperate for him to move. Spencer held still a moment longer, then withdrew achingly slowly. I choked out a cry, and he gave me a dark chuckle. I moaned in anticipation.