9. Chapter 9 #2
He kisses me again. His hand slides from my jaw down my neck, along my collarbone, and settles flat against my ribcage just under my breast. I arch into it without thinking.
“Whit,” he growls against my lips, and I don't stop moving against him.
We are fully, actively, undeniably dry humping against a wall beside the hotel ballroom, and I cannot seem to bring myself to care.
His hand slides down to my hip to guide my rhythm.
Slow and deliberate, each and every press of his thigh takes me closer to an orgasm.
I grip his jacket tighter as my head hits the wall.
“My room,” I grind out.
He pulls back just enough to look at me. His eyes are dark, his mouth is swollen, and my lipstick is smeared across his face.
“Yeah?”
When I nod, he exhales and presses his forehead against mine for a second.
“Okay.” He kisses me one more time. “Let's go.”
Hooking my finger around JB’s tie, I pull him through the doorway of my hotel suite. Our lips are still locked together in this messy, hungry kiss, and when his bulky body makes its way through, he kicks the door shut with his foot.
Click.
The second I hear the door lock, I tug him into the living area toward the wide, low, sectional couch that dominates the space.
When I finally pull my lips away from his, we’re both panting, standing in the middle of the living room. The city lights spill through the window, casting a faint glow over JB’s mischievous grin.
His eyes are dark as he takes me in, and I feel the want behind them.
How can someone with such a playful persona change so much when we’re alone?
Maybe the more important question is how can he make me melt so easily?
His breathing is still ragged, drawing my attention to his rising and falling chest. His tie is loose, his shirt open at his throat, and the glimpse of bare skin beneath is distracting me.
Even after everything he’s done to me, I’ve never seen him naked.
“Stay right there,” I whisper as I dip my fingers under his jacket and slide my hands across his muscular shoulders until the jacket falls off him. Without removing my hands from his body, I slide them to his front and reach for his tie, and loosen it further.
I can feel his gaze on me, urging me to speed up, but I don’t. I want to take my time with him, and enjoy this moment.
Once his tie is off, I work on his shirt, popping each button open one by one. When I have enough, I spread the fabric wide.
Finally.
His chest… Well, it’s more magnificent than I thought possible. Powerful and sculpted, my hands roam greedily over him, feeling the warm muscle under my palms.
“You’re even better than I could’ve ever imagined.”
“Well, that’s it. I’m never wearing a shirt again.”
He shucks the fabric off the rest of the way, tossing the shirt somewhere in the room. My hands roam him greedily, my palms smoothing across his warm muscle.
I can’t help myself. I lean in and drag my tongue across one of his nipples before biting down gently.
His eyes close for a second, and I swear he disguises a giggle for a grunt. When I catch his eyes, he coughs and says, “Sorry. I’m just a little ticklish.”
Unlatching my teeth from him, I give his nipple one final lick before I start to unbuckle his belt. His hands push my dress fabric to the side, but before he can tug my dress down, I back away and shake my head.
“But I want to see you, Whit—”
“Not yet. I want a little fun myself first.”
He drops his hands obediently, keeping them at his side. Admittedly, I prefer him telling me what to do, but for now, I’m happy he’s following my instructions.
Once I finish unbuckling his belt, I drag his zipper down and push his slacks past his thick thighs. He kicks them off, leaving him in just his black boxer briefs, with an impressive bulge straining against the fabric.
“Still think it’s better than you imagined?” he asks, almost awkwardly.
He gives me a haphazard smile as he moves from side to side.
“Yes,” I breathe out, noticing his shoulders visibly relax. I hook my fingers into the waistband and slowly peel it down, freeing his rock-hard cock.
My mouth waters instantly as I take in the veins pulsing along his thick shaft.
I want him so, so much.
Without warning, I shove him back onto the couch. He lands with a surprised grunt but recovers quickly. Taking him in greedily, I track every muscle in his thighs. The second my gaze lands on his cock again, it twitches, begging for attention.
Sinking onto my knees, I pull his legs apart and move into the space between them with only one thing on my mind: I want to taste him.
“Fuck, Coach,” he leans back against the couch. My fingers dig into his thighs, keeping him in place, and he chuckles at the move. “Look at you... so eager for my cock.”
I lean in and drag my tongue up the underside, tracing that thick vein before swirling around the head, tasting the salty pre-cum. Then I take him into my mouth, my lips stretching wide around his girth. I suck him deep, hollowing my cheeks, working him with my tongue as I bob my head.
“Whit—fuck—that’s so good,” he rasps, voice wrecked.
I pull off with a wet pop, stroking him with my hand while I look up. “Do you like my mouth on you?”
“I love it,” he growls. “Keep going, baby.”
I bring him back to my mouth and take him deeper, relaxing my throat until my nose brushes the dark hair at his base. His thighs tremble as I stay there and swallow around him. When I pull back for air, he drops his head to the back of the couch.
I pump slowly, cupping his heavy balls while the other holds his thigh in place.
JB’s breathing is ragged, and his hips are twitching like he’s barely holding back. I reach up, grab his big hand, and guide it to the back of my head, threading his fingers through my hair.
He freezes for half a second—then he gets it.