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“We taste so fucking good together, cinn,” he groaned, his tongue dipping into my pussy, stretching my entrance in slow circles. All I could do was whimper in response, and when I did, I noticed one of Niall’s hands disappear underneath him.
“Are you touching yourself, honey?”
“Fuck,” he hissed. “I just need—” His hips pressed down into the bed and his hand returned to me, sliding three fingers into my cunt. “A little pressure.”
I would’ve loved to tease him, but forming words when both his fingers and tongue were working me to a quick orgasm was impossible. An damn was it an orgasm. It slammed into me like a truck. Wave after wave of heat crashed over me, the orgasm drawn out as Niall kept lapping at my cunt, enjoying the mix of us together.
It was unfair that he got to taste it and I didn’t.
“Niall,” I mumbled, sitting up to grab him by the collar.
“But—” I tugged him up and slammed our mouths together, finally getting the taste of our savory mix. When Niall got the hint I wasn’t letting his mouth leave mine, he shifted forward so I could lie on my back as we kissed, his fingers slowly stroking in and out of my cunt, making a sound I thought only Cardi B was capable of. And as hot as it was to hear he’d gotten me sopping wet, it also triggered a hydration reminder.
“Honey.” I reached between us and grabbed his wrist. “I’m good.”
“Really?” he asked. “But you only came twice. Last—”
“Sure, but you made me come for like twice as long just then, and now I’m dehydrated,” I said through a giggle. It was a little contradictory, but I felt … refreshed. It was so freeing to tap out of sex because I was satisfied, to giggle while his fingers were still inside me.
“Fine,” he grumbled, pulling out of me and pressing a kiss to my cheek.
“You sound dissatisfied,” I pointed out. Without any awkward beat, we both got me dressed, Niall helping untangle my inside-out pants before looping them around my feet while I pulled on the jersey again.
“I was having fun. And if you wear that to bed, my morning wood will wake you up.”
“Hmm, I think I’ll save that knowledge for another time.” I pulled the jersey back off and grabbed my other shirt.
“Another time,” he said softly, pulling me in from behind for a hug once I’d gotten my boring, non-boner-summoning shirt on. “I like hearing you say that.”
My heart rate skyrocketed at the reminder that I was building a future, a future that could disappear for any number of reasons. And then Niall’s hands slid over my collarbone, thumb gently stroking me there. I closed my eyes and took a slow breath in, relaxing into him as my heart ever so slowly calmed down.
“Good?”
“Mmm, getting there.”
“Want me to—” he started to ask as he pulled away, but I grabbed onto his arm and put him back in place.
“No, let’s stay like this for a bit.” I patted his hand and he tightened the hug without another word.
We stayed like that for a minute, maybe two, as my nervous system found its equilibrium. Then, without ceremony, because it felt awkward to announce my mini panic attack was done, I said, “Good. Now let's clean up and rehydrate.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Niall said, chuckling before taking my hand and leading me to the bathroom so we could change and wipe down and do the most normal of couple things.
And it was surprisingly wonderful.
The Pep Talk
Niall
“All right, floor is yours, Christenson,” Coach Sharma said, nodding to me as he stepped back. Normally before big games like this, I would jot down a couple of things for my pregame speech. I’d have notes about the opponents, advice about their play styles, I’d know if any of my teammates were feeling particularly nervous or were just coming off an injury.
But that wasn’t the case this time and realizing that now of all times, when we were in the Tawdries' visiting locker room just minutes from going out onto the field, was less than ideal. I rubbed at my collarbone, praying that it calmed me the way it calmed Leah, but it didn’t do the trick. Maybe if she did it …
“Before you get into it, Cap, can we address the elephant in the room?” Brooker asked.
“What?” I looked around the room, expecting something odd to jump out at me, but nothing did.
“I can’t take you seriously when you’ve got that huge-ass hickey on your neck.” Brooker and a few of the other guys broke into a fit of giggles and I slapped a hand over the mark Leah’d left, face burning bright red. When I pointed it out to her yesterday, she said it wasn’t that noticeable. But of course Brooker caught it. He’d shown up to quite a few games sporting one or two hickeys and never shied away if someone pointed them out.
