“Keep doing that. Fuck, you’re so good,” he encourages, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone as his hips thrust into me. “So fucking good.”
He continues his movements and I take as much of him as I can.
“I like when your mouth is too busy to make your smartass remarks.”
My eyes narrow into slits as I continue to blow him, but Zanders wears a satisfied grin as one of his brows lifts in a challenge.
My tongue circles the tip of his cock in a rhythmic pace before my lips run down the length. Sucking my cheeks in, my hand reaches up and cups his balls. I stroke the thin skin as Zanders falls forward, bending at the waist and having to hold on to my shoulders just to keep upright.
Sliding him out of my mouth, a gratified smile rises on my lips before I take a deep, earned breath. “If I can’t talk, then neither can you.”
“Fuck.” He shivers when his breath returns, his eyes closed, attempting to compose himself.
Zanders is still bent over, holding on to my shoulders for balance. “I was right about you, sweetheart. There really is nothing sweet about you, huh?”
He wipes the moisture from my mouth using his thumb, and as it trails over my lips, I take it in, sucking and stroking it with my tongue.
His eyes darken as he removes his thumb from my lips, replacing it instead with his mouth on mine. Tugging on my hand, he forces me to stand from my knees.
I cannot believe this flawless naked man is standing right in front of me. His arms are corded, decorated with bulging veins and black ink. His legs are thick, cut, and tatted. His abdomen is chiseled and lean, and there’s a V of muscle that points straight to the most perfect cock I’ve ever laid eyes on.
Seriously, this thing deserves some kind of medal.
“Let me see you,” he says, barely audible. He gently tugs at the hem, motioning to my top, but he doesn’t pull it up. He waits for me to let him.
Heat rushes to my cheeks as the nerves return. Am I ready to do this? Am I ready to let him see me? I’ve come this far, but what if he doesn’t like what he sees. I would have to live with that embarrassment for the rest of the season, having him on board after every game on the road.
“Hey, you okay?” he softly asks, his fingers hooked behind my neck and his thumb gently skimming my jaw. “If you want to stop, we can stop.”
My eyes dart to his. The combination of badgering and gentleness between us is sending me for a loop, keeping me on my toes.
Shaking my head, I hold on to his bare hip, pressing my fingertips into his flesh and pulling him into me.
Zanders takes a step towards me, his erection pressing into my stomach, reminding me that I really don’t want to stop.
I put on my mask of confidence and reach for the hem of my shirt before lifting it up and over my head. As I toss it to the ground, my eyes fall back to him, but his attention dances all over my body.
His fingertips softly trail my ribs, drawing small invisible designs into my skin as he explores me. His hand reaches behind my back as his eyes dart to mine. Holding my gaze in approval, he unclasps my bra with a swift motion of his wrist.
Keeping my head down, I slip my arms out of each of the straps, letting my bra drop to the ground between us. My boobs are two completely different sizes, and without the help of my bra, they hang fairly low due to their weight. Typically, I don’t care in the heat of the moment, but I’ve never been with someone as perfectly formed as the man in front of me.
Both of Zanders’ hands take my breasts, his large palms engulfing and squeezing them, making my nipples hard from the attention.
His hands are masculine and strong, but his black ink and gold rings have never looked better than they do touching my skin.
“Holy shit,” he breathes out. “You’re unreal, Stevie girl.”
When my eyes dart up to his, the only thing I can see in those hazel irises is pure lust: no judgment, no dissatisfaction, just carnal want and need.
When I think about it, Zanders has never made me feel self-conscious. Not intentionally anyway. It’s always my own self-doubt seeping into my mind that does the trick.
And judging by his dick that’s standing at attention, I’d say the only person worrying about the way I look is me.
I stand a little straighter as his nimble fingers quickly find the button on my jeans, undoing them. The zipper falls before he pushes the denim over my hips and down my legs. Standing in only my lace panties that are already soaked, Zanders skims his hand over his jawline, shaking his head in admiration.
“What do you want, sweetheart?”