Page 27 of Jock Blocked


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This was it.

This was the moment where lines would be crossed, where a friendship would change.

This was the moment where I’d no longer just be friends with Cannon. We couldn’t go back after this, so I prayed it wouldn’t ruin us.

When he started to push into me, I didn’t stop myself from lifting my legs and wrapping them around his waist, causing him to sink further into me. I felt the stretch and burn of him working his way inside of me, of claiming my virginity. His expression was strained, as if he were trying in vain to stay in control, to not lose it.

Beads of sweat broke out along his brow, dampening the roots of his hair, having me hungry for more. One of his hands was braced by my head, his arm straight and tensed, his bicep bulging. His other hand cupped my cheek, his eyes trained right on me.

It was like everything around us disappeared, like there was nothing else that mattered in the world but this one moment.

His eyes were half–closed, his mouth slightly parted, his breathing heavy like he’d run a marathon.

“You’re so tight and wet.” He gritted his teeth and retreated from me slowly. When just the tip was at my entrance, Cannon waited for a prolonged moment before he pushed back inside.

A cry of pain left me. He groaned when he bottomed out inside of me, but then stilled, as if to let me grow accustomed to his length and girth. My inner muscles contracted around him involuntarily.

“Jesus. Yes.” He reached up and smoothed his thumb over my lip. “I’m your only one.”

I nodded. I’d been saving myself for him, for Cannon.

“You’ll only ever be mine, Stella.” He sank his upper body on top of mine and I sighed when his hardness met every feminine, soft part of me.

“You’re so perfect.” The way he touched me, spoke to me, was soft and gentle, as if he didn’t want to frighten me by the intensity I knew he felt.

Moving his hips back and forth, he stroked me from the inside out. I closed my eyes and tipped my head back. Cannon picked up speed as it was clear his control was slipping. So was mine. He started moving in me in a way that could only be described as one thing.

Fucking.

The image in my mind of my first time had always been with Cannon. It always started off slow and sweet, but then morphed into something dirty and erotic.

Just like right now.

The feeling of him moving in and out of me like he couldn’t get deep enough was one of the images I’d thought of countless times. Both of his arms were now beside my head, his abdomen contracting, his six-pack flexing as he thrust into me. He started whispering dirty words, filthy things that had me growing hotter, had my pussy clenching around his cock as he plunged in and out of me.

“You’re so tight. So wet and hot. I’ll never get enough.” Sweat started to bead on his temples. “I’ll never be with anyone but you.”

Cannon was everything I shouldn’t want but everything I desperately needed.

I wanted a life with him, wanted to be the only girl for him. And it was clear he felt the same way.

“That’s it, baby, take all of me.”

He thrust into me, hitting something deep and secret, something that had me opening my mouth and crying out softly in ecstasy. Cannon placed his hand gently over my mouth to muffle the sound that came from me. God, the last thing we needed was to be interrupted, especially by my mom.

“Stella. Fuck. Yeah, baby.” He reached between us and ran his finger over my clit.

And just like that I came again.

My pussy clenched around his cock, which in turn sent a hard wave of wetness spilling from me.

“Christ,” he ground out and leaned in to kiss me hard, possessively … as if he were claiming me. He pumped inside of me for the third time before slamming into me hard enough I slid up on the bed and had to grab his shoulders, holding on as pleasure wracked me.

“Stella,” he said with a clenched jaw and eyes shut tight. I felt how hard his body became, swore I felt the hard jets of his orgasm pump into me.

With his groin pressed to mine, our pleasure matching each other’s, I knew I’d never be the same after this night.

The sounds that came from him were gruff, guttural. They were of a guy finding his release and it was because of me.

When he opened his eyes and stared into mine, the world shifted … stopped.

“I love you,” he whispered. His eyes were glossy and I didn’t know if that was from his pleasure or the alcohol he’d had. But it didn’t matter because I knew he was right here with me.

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