He set his forehead to mine and bore into me with his dark, heavy eyes. “Not so fast. I barely remember last time, so I’m taking my time with this one.”
He was demanding control, and I was perfectly fine to give it to him. “Very well.”
His lips took mine in again, this time more forceful, with his tongue sneaking out to curl into mine. With the hand that wasn’t pinning my wrists to the wall, he started to journey across all the crevices and curves of me. His hand pushed up my shirt along my sides and then walked around to my back. His fingers pulled across my spine in scratches that weren’t too hard to hurt, but just aggressive enough to heighten the heat. I allowed him to move my head back with his so that he could take a succulent bite of my neck while his roaming hand traveled upwards to unclasp my bra. When he’d done so successfully, he pulled away from me and grabbed the base of my shirt, yanking it up and off before returning to pull my bra away, as well. He crouched enough to tuck his arms under my legs and lifted me from my feet. I locked my ankles behind him and returned to his lips while he led us through his home and into his bedroom.
I was dropped on the bed, and Zeke slithered over me. I wrapped my arms around his back to return the scratches he’d given me, and he growled against my lips at the feeling, exciting me tenfold. I’d been told before that I could be rough in bed. Maybe it was just my tendency to do so as an athlete, but I lived in constant fear of being too much for my lovers. Zeke was showing me in his own way that he was up to the task of whatever I threw at him, both on and off the field. Feeling like I could truly let go and just enjoy lovemaking was a brand new feeling.
Zeke wrapped his arms around me and rolled, bringing me to sit on top of him. I could feel his erection trying desperately to break free of his pants. I ran my hands down his stomach, my skin burning at the intense way he watched me like I was the only thing in the world.
When I got to the top of his pants, I looked up at him. “May I?”
He grinned and reached a hand up to run along my cheek. “You can do whatever you want now.”
My body buzzed. Whatever I wanted. I worked with the metal button on his jeans while his hand dropped to my breast to massage it. My cheeks were burning, and my mind went wild with the realization that I was sitting on top of a man I used to watch on TV—a man that I thought wanted to end my career. It was crazy how life interfered when we took too much control. Both Zeke and I tried desperately to direct our fates, and all we did was end up a totally different road than we were originally traveling, one that went in the same direction. It was exhilarating and terrifying. What did the future hold for us? Why did being near him feel like being near myself? Like a chunk of me had been ripped out and chucked into a field, and after years and years of searching, I’d finally found it?
“Are you trying to tease me?” Zeke’s gruff voice pulled me from my thoughts.
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
I snaked my hands into his jeans and took his smoldering length into my hand. His eyes stayed trained on me, though I could see the strain of pleasure threaten to take him away. I smiled and repositioned so that I could slide down. I moved the pieces of fabric away and, after taking a few tentative licks, pulled him inside my mouth. He let out a moan that wrapped around me like a chord of music, one I played over and over and over and never got sick of it. I worked with my tongue and hand to pull a fantastic melody of sounds from Zeke, loving when his hand traveled to the back of my head to push and guide me.
He continued to elongate in my mouth, and the space between my legs was growing ever-wetter with anticipation. It desperately wanted what my mouth was currently taking its fill of. I moved my hand lower to touch myself and bring it relief, but Zeke immediately reacted. He sat up, pulling me off of him in the action, and turned me on my back.
“No helping yourself today,” he demanded. “Not when I’m around to do it.”
I shuddered, trying to calculate exactly when his sexual magnitude had tripled. Was I doomed to forever feel the waves of excitement when he was around me now? Our drunken night had been an appetizer, at best, and this was a full five-course meal. He started by kicking his jeans and boxers off first and then moved to pull my pants from around my legs. He grinned at the sight.
“Green’s my favorite color.” My thong was a bright shade of neon green, Viper’s green, to be specific. “Did you do it on purpose?” I bit my lip and smiled, and he closed his eyes and gave a little shake. “Well, these will have to stay, then.”
Zeke ducked his head between my legs and pulled the fabric of my underwear to one side. I inhaled, and when I felt the heat of his tongue, the exhale was a loud moan. It was different from the tastes he’d taken of me back at my place. Those had been quick experimenting. This time, Zeke laid on his stomach and settled in. He alternated between fast and slow speeds, bounced between my hole and sweet spot up top, and got his fingers involved. Minutes bled together until time felt like one long, continuous moment.
By the time my first orgasm hit me, my second one was already lining up, ready to jump in, and my third was on deck. I lost count of the number of times I screamed his name or let swear words escape my lips. My legs turned to jelly, and I was totally at his mercy. He could have asked me to jump right out the window, and I probably would have. When another orgasm crashed over me, Zeke was finally ready to move on. He came up and gave me a wolfish lick of his lips.
“Delicious.”
I couldn’t respond. The words that might have tried to come out wouldn’t have cleared my mess of a head and would have only been incoherent mumbles. Instead, I held out my arms, and Zeke crawled over me again, setting his heated flesh against mine. He didn’t need a hand to work himself inside. Our pieces found each other like supercharged magnets, and we both cried out at the feeling. Zeke pressed his lips to mine, and I swerved my hips. Zeke grabbed my legs and held them in a way that restricted my movement.
He pulled away and shook his head. “I told you. I’m taking my time.”
It was borderline frustrating, but I trusted Zeke to do what needed to be done. He’d already given me more pleasure in a single day than all of my former lovers combined, so if he wanted to move at a pace that was his own, I was going to let him. He hadn’t failed me so far.
He sat up and started in and out of me in slow, drawn-out movements. My mind threatened to short circuit as I could feel all of him, pulling out and dragging in. It was exquisite, and my legs shook. On occasion, he would pick up the pace, bring me right to the edge, and then back off, leaving me moaning and crying out for more. It was the best and worst game of chutes and ladders. Every time I moved my piece ten steps forward, thinking that one more turn was going to bring me across the finish line, I’d land on a slide and fall two rows down. The optimal difference was that climbing the ladders felt as good as the falling slides did. Every time I stood at the precipice only to not achieve the final pleasure, my body grew more sensitive, more impatient. It made each move feel infinitely better than the last.
Finally, Zeke smiled down at me. My mind was too much a mush to read it, but he picked up his pace, moving faster and faster until he was slapping against me. His eyes drifted close, as did mine, and he pressed on. I climbed one ladder and another and another until my piece finally spilled across the finish line. The noises that came out of both Zeke and me were animalistic and raw, and all at once, Zeke snatched himself out of me, just in time for me to feel the dripping of him splashing forth.