“Goddamn,” I breathed, reaching out to touch him with my good hand. I palmed his balls first, earning me a deep moan before I rolled my fist up and over his thick shaft, coating my palm with the precum at his tip before I covered him with it.
“Open your mouth,” he said.
I’d no sooner done as he’d commanded before his hands were in my hair holding me in place, and he wedged his thick tip between my lips, hissing at the first swipe of my tongue against him.
I hummed, swirling, opening just enough to let him in another inch.
“That’s it,” he praised, withdrawing before he flexed in a little deeper. “Can’t mouth me now, can you? Not when you have my cock in your throat.”
He pushed in, putting his cock right where he’d said, and I gagged a little before tilting my head up. I could take him better at this angle, and I could also witness the warping of his face when I let him in more, when he felt me opening for him and saw my eyes locked on his.
It was so hot, the noises he made, the way his hands were careful not to mess up the braids he’d just done, but still firm enough to hold me right where he wanted me. He inched himself in a few more times slowly, pulling up his hoodie and tucking the edge of it under his chin as he worked.
He wanted to see everything.
And in the process, it gave me the most glorious view.
His abs rippled with every pulse, his breath labored, arms straining as he fucked my mouth.
“Waited for this for so long,” he murmured, picking up his pace. “To see you on your knees for me. To feel this hot mouth right where I wanted it.”
He fucked me three more times, each pump harder than the last, and when he pulled out, it was with a little gag from me and a long string of saliva connecting us.
I grinned wickedly, wiping at the corner of my mouth as he stared down at me, his cock jumping like it was pissed he’d pulled back.
“Come here,” he said gruffly, and I was heaved up to my feet.
His mouth covered mine as he swooped me up again, a groan rumbling low in his throat when he tasted himself on me. He blindly carried me down the hallway, swinging us into the first door he found.
Which was a bathroom, and apparently not what he was looking for.
We were off again, and this time, he nearly broke through Darcy’s door.
“Wrong room,” I managed against his mouth, giggling when he growled and carried me more swiftly down to the next door.
This one was my room, and when I didn’t tell him otherwise, he kicked the door shut behind us like we weren’t already alone, and then tossed me onto the bed.
It was a feat to be marveled, honestly, how this man could fling me around while also being conscious of my arm and not hurting me. It was a little achy, if I was being honest, but the pain meds were holding on enough to make it where I didn’t feel enough pain to want to stop.
Honestly, even if I was in pain, I wouldn’t stop. Not now. Not with this beast of a football player towering over me with his cock half out of his pants and his chest heaving like a caveman.
Braden moved to top me, balancing his weight on one elbow while he roughly shoved his other hand up under my hoodie.
“I knew you weren’t wearing a bra,” he said like a curse, palming my breast. I arched into the touch, moaning when he rolled my nipple between his fingers and plucked. “Let’s see if my other theory is true, too.”
His hand traveled down, fingertips sliding under my pants as I widened my legs to let him investigate. I kept my eyes locked on his, my smile wide as he slid one finger between my thighs.
“Fuck,” he groaned, gliding through the wetness there. When he rubbed that slick finger over my clit, I moaned, chasing the friction even though he was already pulling away. “I knew it. Filthy girl. Soaking wet for me already.”
“Time’s ticking,” I breathed on a tease, and Braden kissed me with a passionate, bruising touch before he flew up onto his knees.
His hands braced on my sweater, right under my chin at the neckline, and then he paused, that soft side of him I’d come to know peeking through. “Are you sure?”
“If you don’t rip my clothes off in the next ten seconds—”
Braden answered before I could finish the threat.
Or at least, he tried.
