Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 170885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
He watches me with dark eyes, his brows dipping, his chest rising and falling in an insane rhythm.
But then he opens his damn fucking mouth. “Go away…please.”
I crash my lips against his. “Shut.” Kiss. “The.” Lick. “Fuck.” Bite. “Up.”
He moans, the cracks in his armor growing wider and deeper, and I smash through them one by each fucking one.
I’ll feast on him so thoroughly, he’ll never find a way out.
I thrust my aching cock against his and whisper, “I’m so going to jerk off to thoughts of all the dirty things I want to do to you.”
He shudders, and I swear I feel his cock thickening. His eyelids definitely grow heavy. He has this look of complete confusion and utter abandon. Such a fucking enigma. I want to own him.
Pull him apart.
Fucking destroy him.
I steal his lips again and we grunt at the same time as my tongue shoves its way inside, claiming his. Chaining him to me. Even temporarily.
I need more.
More.
Fucking more.
A commotion comes from the locker room and I hear someone ask, “Has anyone seen King?”
He goes completely still and I can feel his muscles tightening. When I wrench my lips from his bruised ones, his face is stone cold.
Panic flashes in the depths of his irises and he looks like he’s on the verge of collapsing. He stares at his feet, his shoulders crowding with tension.
What the fuck…
“Hey.” I tap his cheek with the back of my fingers and he blinks up at me. “What’s wrong?”
“I… I…”
“Hey…breathe.”
He doesn’t seem to be doing that at all as he sputters and stares at me as if I’m an alien.
The commotion gets closer and he seems to be on the verge of a meltdown.
It’s then I realize he’s probably freaking out about the prospect of being found in this position.
I step back and he stares at me with wretched eyes that make me want to grab his hand and drag him the fuck out of here.
But that would probably make him lose it.
My eyes skim over the multiple hickeys I left on his torso and collarbone, then I lift my shirt over my head and throw it at him.
I seem to be taking off my shirt for this guy more often than not. Whenever I’m wearing one, at least.
His fingers latch onto the material and he mechanically pulls it on. It’s big on him, but he looks fucking edible in it.
New kink unlocked.
“Thanks,” he mutters like such a well-mannered gentleman.
He’s always expressing his gratitude whenever I do the most benign gestures, like dropping him off at home, handing him his AirPods, or when I tell him to watch out for traffic.
I like to think that’s his way to make up for all the shit his mouth spouts on a regular basis.
Lotus flower casts one last lingering glance at me, his expression reverting back to normal, but a smidge of hesitation lurks in his gaze.
I wait for him to say something, but he breaks eye contact and slips past me to his conversing teammates.
I stand there, my cock protesting and my muscles tensing.
This was supposed to be a little game, but I don’t think I’m playing anymore.
The worst part is that I feel like I’m already losing.
12
BRANDON
“I missed you so much,” Clara’s soft voice whispers in my ear as she trails kisses on my neck and jaw.
We’re standing in the middle of my room as she moans softly. My hand rests around her waist just so I can force her in place when she tries to kiss my mouth.
It’s illogical and makes no bloody sense, but I haven’t kissed her or allowed her to kiss me since that damn night I lost all control a week ago.
And earlier today.
My eyes close in remembrance of his lips, his hard body, and the way he kissed me.
I shove all that chaos out of my mind.
It didn’t happen.
It’s nothing.
If I think that long enough, maybe this whole thing will blow over and I’ll go back to my safe little bubble.
Clara doesn’t mind the subtle rejection. I don’t think she cares. It’s why I keep her close. She’s fine with the relationship staying shallow. She never probes, never asks any stupid questions. And she certainly doesn’t ask what happened to my bandaged hand every day like a certain twat who refuses to give up.
Since I couldn’t avoid her any longer, I invited her over to my room after dinner at a posh restaurant. Instead of eating, I spent most of the time taking her pictures and pretending I wasn’t bored out of my fucking mind.
I tried dropping her off at the dorms and leaving, but she wasn’t having it tonight and insisted that I had to see her lingerie.
I did. It’s pretty, I guess. A one-piece transparent red lace thing that showcases her nipples and has an opening to her pussy. The tight, strappy material clings to her skin, complementing her curvy figure.