Chapter 33
A glaring light shines into my closed eyelids, bringing with it a conscious stream of thought. I bolt straight upright, immediately missing the warmth of Ziggy's body next to me, but I have bigger issues. Shit, I'm supposed to meet the team in less than 10 minutes. We are having a team breakfast at the hotel before heading to practice. Tabarnak! I'm not going to make it in time. I press a soft kiss to her forehead, promising to return as soon as I can. She mumbles something in her sleep, but I can't make out the words as I throw on my clothes and hightail it out the door.
The team breakfast is a blur of chatter and clinking utensils on plates, my mind already back in Ziggy's apartment, ready to lose myself in her once more. Practice is even worse. I struggle to keep my focus on drills and strategy. Coach Wilder notices my head isn't in it, giving me a snap out of it look and an unnecessary swat to my helmet before shouting, “Get your head out of your ass, St. Germain.”
I manage to pull it together long enough to get through the practice. We have another practice this afternoon before we leave for North Carolina, but that gives me plenty of time during the day. I hop back on the bus and listen to the coaches when needed, but bide my time until we get back to the hotel. As soon as we arrive and are dismissed, I am out the door. My honest intention is to make my way back to Ziggy.
The secrecy of our arrangement adds a layer of excitement, but these few days in Atlanta have made it weigh heavier in a way it never has before. Keeping everything under wraps is starting to feel like a burden. A storm cloud of thoughts interrupts my progress towards Ziggy's apartment. Ziggy is something special. She is my something special, and the fact that some giant douchecanoe would not only dump her but then play her, only to leave her behind in a bar, just doesn’t sit well with me. I didn’t necessarily ask Ziggy where the douchecanoe works for a specific reason. But that information sits in the forefront of my mind this morning as I pull out of the hotel. I can't shake the lingering anger from the night before. The thought of her stranded, vulnerable, and alone makes my blood boil.
With my GPS on, guiding me to where his office is, it doesn’t take me long to get to my destination. He makes it even easier for me when I spot him exiting the coffee shop on the first floor of his office building. The quintessential clean-cut asshole, finance bro. I approach him, my fists clenching at my sides.
"You," I growl, grabbing his attention.
The blonde douchecanoe turns, surprised and then wary of a stranger like me. "Who the hell are you?"
I close in, lowering my voice dangerously. "Who I am doesn't matter." As I step to him, my sheer size towers over him. "If you ever think about coming near Ziggy again, don’t. I will hunt you down in these streets if you do. Do you understand me?"
He blanches, his eyes widening with fear. "Hey, man, I didn't mean—"
"Save it," I cut him off. "She deserves better than you. Stay the fuck away from her."
Leaving him there, visibly shaken, I feel a grim satisfaction. Our little chat should keep him from bothering Ziggy again anytime soon. I head back to her place, feeling a sense of protectiveness I haven't felt in a long time. She is becoming more than just a fling, more than just an indulgence. However, I push those thoughts aside because, at the end of the day, until I give my balls a tug and actually tell her how I feel, there is nothing to share with the world. What I have with Ziggy is just for me, and I will keep her safe, no matter what.
An adrenaline rush flows through me, replacing the righteous fury. With my important impromptu errand now complete, I rush back to Ziggy's apartment to make the most of the free time I have before my next practice. The urgency in my steps is barely contained as I make it to her door. I knock loudly and hear her yell, "Come in," faintly from inside.
As I open the door, I catch sight of her wrapped up in a blanket, her laptop on her lap. Her brows are furrowed as she concentrates on something. As I get closer to her I can hear the commentary from one of last night's games. This girl is nothing short of amazing. She is working so hard to be the best that she can be, but she needs a break. And a break, I am going to give her.
I sit down on the couch next to her. I don't bother with words. I sweep her into my arms, my lips crashing against hers. The intensity of my complicated emotions translates into a fevered need to claim her, to remind both of us who she belongs to now. I lift her so that she is straddling me, wrapping her legs around me as I stand. I spread desperate kisses down her neck and chest as I walk us into her bedroom. Adjusting one hand under her ass, I use the other to help her get her little tank top off, freeing her tits for my mouth to capture.
I place her down gently on the bed, pressing her shoulders down so that she is laid out before me. My hands rake down her sides, fingers gripping the edge of her yoga pants as I pull them off her. I toss them to the side and stand back for a moment, just admiring how beautiful she is before following through with one of my brilliant ideas. I walk to her closet, find what is probably a very expensive scarf and bring it back to the bed.
"Do you trust me?" I ask her, wishing on anything and everything that she says yes because my cock is rock hard at this point.
She nods energetically. I take the fabric and tie it around her eyes. I test that it isn't too tight, but also that she can't peek out from underneath it. Once I'm satisfied with it, I take my time setting the rest of the scene, lighting a few of the massage candles that she has scattered around her room. I quickly grab a cup of ice cubes from the freezer and return to stand beside her and watch her wiggle in anticipation. I take in the way her nipples harden under my gaze, how her thighs shake as she waits for what I do next.
I pull my t-shirt off, throw it behind me, and unbutton my jeans, keeping them in place to keep my aching erection contained for now. I grab an ice cube from the cup and kneel on the bed next to her. The lack of sight makes her jittery with anticipation. I gently pepper kisses down her neck and between her cleavage, then take the ice cube and run it down the same path. The cold feeling stings my hand as I move down her body. Popping the ice cube in my mouth, I take a nipple in my mouth, swirling the cube around in my mouth. With my other hand, I play with the other breast, so no one feels left out.
Once the ice cube is melted, I release her peak from my mouth and move so that I'm straddling her thighs, pinning them in place. She is still able to wiggle around, but she isn't going to make it far with my full weight on her. I reach over to her bedside table and grab one of the candles with one hand and an ice cube with the other.
"Elliot, you are driving me crazy. What are you doing?" Ziggy moans from underneath me.
I chuckle because if this is driving her crazy, she has no idea what is coming next. Without warning, I drip hot wax over her belly button. She hisses and squirms to avoid the wax, but I hold her in place.
“That’s it, my little Anatife. Take that pleasure with its pain.” I say, quickly moving the ice cube over the hardening wax, finishing up with a kiss to each spot, and then repeating myself. Just to keep her on edge, every so often I massage the wax into her skin, using it how it's meant, but I don’t let her get too used to it. The juxtaposition of ice and wax on her skin drives her wild, the mix of sensations sending her into a frenzy. I get her body messy and desperately ready for me.
Moving quickly, I remove my pants and briefs before settling in between her thighs. I breathe in her scent like a primal animal. I rub two fingers through her slick folds, gently pressing into her quickly before bringing them back up to her clit, circling around it. I work her cunt with my fingers, bringing her right to the edge, only to throw her right over the edge of an orgasm by adding a third finger and curling them against her walls. Working her through her orgasm, keeping a strong, unrelenting pace, I build her tension up again.
“Elliot…. make me your slut. I’ve been such a good girl for you. Please let me soak your cock.” Ziggy pants out between my teasing.
I slide my fingers from her folds and give her a chaste kiss on her pussy before moving my hips back up to between her thighs.
"Open up your lips for me, Anatife. I want you to taste how sweet you are," I instruct her, slipping my fingers into her mouth. Her lips wrap around them and her tongue wipes them clean.
"Fuck, yes, Z," I groan as her mouth works my fingers.
Without hesitation I slide a condom on and sink my raging cock into her. She is so wet and ready for me that her walls grip me immediately. I pull my fingers from her mouth as I start to slip in and out of her. I move the scarf from her eyes, wanting to connect with her on a deeper level. To see her react to our bodies working together.
"Oh GOD, Elliot, I'm so close." She screams, "Harder, please." My girl begs as she rubs her clit into me with as much force as she can, chasing her orgasm with a desperate intensity.
"That's it, Anatife. How needy are you for an orgasm?" I ask her, pressing deep inside of her, moving my hips in a circular motion to push her over the edge. Her cunt grips me tightly as another orgasm starts to break.
I watch her intently as she screams out my name, pressing into each of my thrusts as her climax rocks through her. Watching her tips me over the edge, and my release rips through me as her nails draw down my back.
"Tabarnak! I think you drew blood, Zig." I say with a grin as I lean over her, my cock still inside her.
"Yeah, and whose fault is that?" she says, smiling up at me, completely satiated.
The rest of the afternoon is a blur of hot and cold, pleasure with a little bit of pain as passion courses through us. Our bodies intertwine, every touch, every gasp, deepening the unspoken connection growing between us, a connection that is becoming impossible to ignore.