Raffi has been cleared to return to exercise. We’re both training with Phil a couple times a week, and attending group classes, sometimes together, sometimes not. Raffi, overachiever that he is, also comes to the free training times to get his sweat on.
My guy’s a beast, whether he’s skating or not.
When the fans switch on, I know it’s going to be a moist one. Music pounding, purple lights bright, and a disco ball hanging in the middle of the gym, we’re ready to lift.
Halfway through the warm-up track, Raffi presses himself against my back. “You’re so hot when you squat, Firecracker.”
A shiver slowly snakes down my spine as I pop my ass back just a little. Yeah. He’s hard.
Trying to stay focused for the rest of the class is almost impossible. Having a loaded metal bar across your shoulders while you’re working out or lifting weights over your head is hard enough when you don’t have coordination. Add in your boyfriend’s raging hard on for you and the dirty, dirty things he wants to do to you, and, well, it’s distracting as fuck.
Just over an hour later, we head to the parking lot.
“I’m going to smother you in your sleep,” I mutter.
He loops his arms around me as I cross the lot to the car. “I love you too, Firecracker.” He kisses the sensitive spot just underneath my ear, and it makes me whimper.
“We’re in public, Raffi. Phil won’t let us come back if we fornicate outside his gym.”
“What Phil doesn’t know, won’t hurt him. Can you say fornicate again?”
I barely make it to the passenger seat unscathed. Raffi is a feral, sweaty mess, and he’s rock hard. After he starts the car and pulls out of the lot, he sticks his hand between my thighs.
“Raffi.” His name falls from my lips as the heat of his hand meets my already hot crotch.
“What’s the matter, Victoria?”
My hips buck against the seatbelt. What is it about exercise that makes you horny?
I should be tired. I’m a sticky hot mess, and there’s nothing about me that currently looks sexy, but I’m ready to strip down and ride my guy like a prized bronco.
Squeezing my nipples through my tank and sports bra as he grinds his heel against my crotch makes me mewl. I can’t take it anymore. Plucking his hand from the inside of my thigh, I toss him a wicked grin before shoving it down the inside of my leggings and panties.
“Hungry, pretty girl?”
“Finger me already, or I’ll do it my goddamn self.”
“Oh, fuck no you won’t. I was on the bench for long enough. You don’t get to take this away from me.” His fingers slide between my lips and find my clit with ease. “Ooooh. So wet, Firecracker. So deliciously wet for me.”
His fingers barely graze my clit as we inch closer to the house. If he doesn’t hurry the fuck up I’m going to finish myself off right here on the front seat.
I’m not sure whether the car is even off or not before I’m unbuckling my belt and hauling ass into the garage. But before I can get to the door, he’s splayed me face-down on the hood and he’s sliding my leggings down my thighs until they’re in a pool around my feet.
“Can’t wait, can you?”
Arching my back only makes him chuckle.
“Such a hungry girl. What do you need?”
“Raffi, please.” The frustration brewing in every muscle makes a scratchy growl in my throat when I speak.
“Please, what?”
I’m going to murder him. Actual murder. “Please,fill me.”
He shoves his cock inside me with a grunt. The intimacy of him being bare isn’t lost on me. I’m on birth control, and neither of us are sleeping with anyone but each other. “There. All full. Feel better?” The sarcastic fucker doesn’t move. He just stands there, balls deep in my pussy.
“You know that’s not what I meant.” I’m whiny, and I don’t care.
