Jock Blocked

by Snow, Jenika

  “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.

  My heart stopped. “I love you.”

  And then he collapsed against me. For several long moments, he did nothing but breathe heavily against my chest, but all too soon he rolled off of me and onto his back. We panted, the aftereffect of what we’d done slamming into me. I could do nothing but stare at the ceiling, letting the experience wash through me. There was a delicious ache between my thighs, the wetness from my arousal, his orgasm, and what was probably a little bit of my virgin blood, started to slip out of me.

  Cannon rolled onto his side and pulled me toward him, holding me.

  “I love you,” he said again, his voice a rumble against my neck. “So much my heart hurts.” He pulled the covers over us and I closed my eyes.

  “I love you, Cannon. I love you so much.”

  He kissed my throat and I smiled, my eyes closed, my hand resting on his chest.

  “I’ll make sure to leave before your mom gets up.”

  I wanted to tell him to stay, but I didn’t want my mom finding out about us this way. I didn’t want her checking up on me before she left for work—which I knew she did—and seeing me lying here naked with Cannon wrapped around me.

  Then again, the very thought of him leaving was almost painful.

  “I don’t care,” I whispered, even though I was contradicting what I’d just thought. “The thought of you leaving sucks.” He chuckled softly and pulled me in closer. He kissed me on top of my head and I closed my eyes, easily about to fall asleep despite the slight discomfort between my thighs.

  “Believe me, I don’t want to, but your mom finding us like this would probably cause shit to hit the fan.”

  I couldn’t help but smile and nod. “Yeah, you’re right. But still, it’s nice to think of you staying here.”

  “It sure is.” He held me tighter.

  We stayed like that for long moments, and I was about to fall asleep when I felt him shift beside me, the deep rumble of his voice rousing me.

  “Have dinner with me tomorrow. Let me cook for you, make it special.” He ran the tips of his fingers along my back. “My parents are going out for the night. We’ll have the place to ourselves.”

  That sounded like heaven.

  “Tell your mom you’re staying at a friend’s. Let me have you all to myself.”

  I smiled and nodded. Despite the slight slur in his voice, I heard the genuine quality in it. “Okay. I’d like that,” I found myself saying softly, because honestly, that’s the only thing I could muster up. I was sore and tired and … happy.

  18

  Stella

  All I kept thinking about was last night, what we’d done, what we’d shared together. I was so nervous right now, something that had never been this way between us. Everything had always been so easy-going, but what we’d done, how intimate we’d been, had definitely changed that. Despite all he’d said last night, I was still so worried there’d be this difference in how he saw me, in what we had.

  Today was my birthday. But it felt more special than any other birthday I’d had before, or any other birthday that I’d have hereafter. Because I had the love of Cannon. Not the kind of love that we shared throughout the years, but that bone-deep, soul-consuming, heart-stopping kind of love that I could have only ever dreamed about.

  It was real.

  I sat in my car in his driveway, about to go inside. He’d asked me to come over so he could cook me a birthday dinner, so that we could be alone because his parents were gone for the night.

  I climbed out of the car, my legs feeling like pudding, my hands shaking. I curled my fingers tightly around the car keys to try and steady them. Before I could even get to the front door, it was opened and Cannon stood on the other side, a smile on his face, his focus trained right on me.

  He had a small dish towel in one hand, the scent of dinner he’d cooked for me wafting to where I stood.

  “Happy birthday,” he said and grinned.

  He’d told me so many times throughout the day, yet once again, I still felt my cheeks heat at his attention.

  He stepped aside and I walked in, feeling so nervous about how things would play out. Although he’d held me after we’d been together last night, whispered things in my ear that I’d always dreamt about, and made me feel like I was the only person in the entire world for him, I felt like I was at the end of the world with nowhere else to go.

  And I hated it, hated that I felt this way.

  He shut the door and as I turned around, I realized he was right in front of me, his chest just an inch from mine, the scent of that cologne he wore that I loved so much filling my body.

  I tipped my head back, this small sound leaving me, my heart racing so hard I felt it, heard it in my ears. His face had lost the grin, and now held a serious expression.

  I didn’t know how long we stood there, but as he stared at me and I looked up at him, I felt the air change, shift. I felt it move around us, heat up again. I felt my arousal grow, my nipples harden, and my panties get wet. At the moment dinner was sounding like an afterthought.

  I really didn’t want to have dinner right now. What I wanted was for Cannon to take me to his room and for us to do a repeat session of what we’d done last night.

  He had the dish towel tossed over his shoulder and his hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me in close to his body. I got lost in the sensations.

  I guess this solidified my thoughts and worries, washing them away so I didn’t even dwell on them.

  There was no hesitation from Cannon. He was right here with me.

  He slid his hand up my back and cupped my nape, just staring into my eyes. This moment felt surreal, as if we weren’t just two high school kids that had fallen in love, who had done some pretty dirty things just last night.

  And then he leaned down and kissed me, and I closed my eyes and opened my mouth for him, sucking his tongue between my lips, letting his flavor move along my taste buds. He was masculine and spicy, with a hint of spearmint laced along his tongue.

  When we pulled back we were both breathing heavily despite the kiss only lasting a few seconds. My eyes were still closed but I felt his finger move along my cheek, urging me to open, to look at him.

  “Stella.” He whispered my name softly and I finally opened my eyes, staring into his blue ones. “I love you.” His words were this accelerant inside of me.

  I felt myself grow even wetter, my arousal filling every erogenous zone in me until I came alive.

  “Let’s skip dinner,” I found myself saying, and instantly felt my cheeks become hot at my bold suggestion. The corner of his mouth kicked up in a smirk and he chuckled softly.

  “As much as I want to take you up on that offer, and probably will here shortly, there’s something I want to give you.” He took my hand and led me to the kitchen, but my legs felt weak and my pulse raced.

  I kept replaying his words over and over in my head, how he’d ‘take me up on my offer shortly.’ I imagined all the things we’d do together, how dirty he’d be with me, how possessive and consuming I’d feel.

  We ste
pped into the kitchen and I looked at the table, dinnerware set out, a bottle of wine in the center. The scent of something delicious filled the air.

  “My mom loves her red wine, so she won’t miss one bottle,” he said and looked over his shoulder at me, giving me a wink.

  He turned around carrying a small white box wrapped in a blue ribbon. He walked over and set it on the table, lifting his hand and cupping my cheek, smoothing his thumb along my bottom lip. But then he turned from me again and went toward the fridge, opening the door and pulling out a chocolate cake with a single candle in the center.

  When he set it on the table, I looked down and saw he’d written ‘Happy Birthday, Stella’ in the center in teal. My favorite color. I didn’t want to cry, but he’d gone above and beyond, the little things that showed me he’d paid attention to detail, knew what I liked.

  Before I could say anything, he picked up the little white box and handed it to me. I felt my hand shaking as I took it from him, pulled the blue ribbon off of it, and opened the lid. I could already feel tears welling up in my eyes as I stared down at the little sparrow necklace, the dainty chain, the little silver bird hanging from it, all of it having a tear sliding down my cheek before I could stop it.

  “Shit. I didn’t mean to make you cry, Stella.”

  I wiped away the wetness and shook my head, smiling up at him. “They’re tears of happiness, Cannon.” That had him smiling again, that worried expression leaving his face. He took the box from me, pulled the necklace out, and held it up.

  “Can I put it on you?”

  I nodded and lifted up my hair, turning around so he could place it around my neck.

  “When I saw this, I knew it was perfect for you. I know how much you like sparrows, and I was hoping that every time you saw one, you’d think of me, of this moment.”

  I turned around and faced him, placing my hand on the necklace, my fingers at the base of my throat. It was smooth, the wings outstretched, the detailing simplistic … just how I liked. I’d never been one to be into flashy things, to be into jewelry, but this right here, this was my favorite thing I owned.

  I knew that without a doubt.

  “It’s perfect,” I said softly and looked down, as if I could see the necklace that rested against my neck. “Thank you,” I said again.

  He reached out and ran a finger along my cheek. Although I didn’t cry any longer, I could imagine him brushing the tears away. “I wanted to make today special, and although dinner at my house probably isn’t what you imagined—”

  “It’s perfect, Cannon. As long as I’m spending it with you, it really is perfect.” And I meant that more than anything else in the entire world.

  He took a step closer and the atmosphere changed, the air felt sexually charged. The longer we stared at each other, the more I felt my desire for him grow.

  God, I was so wet. He stood in front of me with this hungry expression on his face. The table was right behind me now, my hands flat on the cloth that covered the wood. I should have known that my emotions and arousal would take priority over everything else. We’d just been together last night, and my body was still lit up like a firework from it.

  He took a step closer until his chest was pressed right to mine. I stared up at this boy, wanting nothing more than to feel his powerful body over mine, to be in his bed, to have him over me. He was so hard, his cock pressed against my belly. My breasts pressed against my shirt, and I knew my nipples were hard, felt them dig against the material.

  He looked at my lips, this low, deep sound leaving him.

  And then, Cannon gripped my waist, lifted me up, and set me on the table. He dropped to his knees in front of me, placed both his hands on my legs, and pushed my thighs open. The skirt I wore rode up, the feel of the vibrations from Cannon’s groan settling right in the center of me.

  Our gazes locked for a heartbeat. Then he slid his fingers under my skirt, gripped the edge of my panties, and started to pull them down. I lifted my hips slightly to make the act easier, the air leaving me violently as he pulled them away and tucked them in the pocket of his jeans. I didn’t know how we’d gone from cake and a necklace to Cannon on his knees between my legs, but I wasn’t complaining.

  He shoved my skirt up all the way, the cool air moving along my pussy. He looked up at me from between my legs, his hands on my thighs, his fingers digging into my flesh. The feel of his warm breath skating across the center of my body could have made me climax right then.

  The sight of him looking up at me had every erogenous zone in my body lighting up. He had to know the effect he had on me.

  “I have to taste you,” he whispered.

  I licked my lips and nodded. I leaned back slightly, my feet resting on the edge of the table.

  God, we were really doing this right here on the table, in his kitchen.

  And then he had his tongue right between my thighs. I opened my mouth and cried out, tipped my head back, and closed my eyes.

  He used that muscle to run up my center, sucking my wetness off and causing more to come from me. He was so incredibly slow with his ministrations, so agonizingly slow with licking my pussy, that I found myself pressing closer to him, trying to have him give me more. My hands seemed to have a mind of their own and gripped handfuls of his hair. And when he pulled back, breaking the spell he had on me, I groaned.

  “I want to go slow.”

  I shook my head slowly. “I don’t need slow.” The arousal pounded through me.

  He groaned and smoothed his hands up my legs, framed my pussy with his hands, and resumed licking me. With my eyes closed, my body aching for him, I just let myself feel.

  His tongue moved up and down my slit, teasing my clit on the upstroke and pressing minutely inside of me on the down stroke. My legs were starting to shake, my climax threatening to rise up swiftly and end this before it really even started.

  Over and over he brought me close to climax but wouldn’t exert enough pressure to actually bring me over the edge. I wanted to beg him to make me come, but plead with him to take his time.

  I was on my back now, dishes and silverware pushed aside and now so close to the edge that they’d fall to the ground with just a push from my arms. Perspiration started to coat my body, and I closed my eyes and just absorbed all the feelings Cannon brought out in me.

  As I tried in vain to hold off on getting off and prolonging this experience, Cannon kept grunting against my soaked flesh, urging me with his actions to just let go. His fingers on my inner thighs were painful, but that discomfort felt incredible with my rising pleasure. All I wanted to do was grip his head and shove his face more deeply against my pussy.

  Air left me in moans and gasps. I couldn’t stop thrashing my head back and forth, couldn’t stop pressing my pussy to his mouth.

  “Cannon,” I whispered, begged. “Please, I need to come.” I’d never thought I’d ask Cannon for that, plead with him to bring me over the edge.

  “Do you need it, baby?” he murmured against my soaked flesh. “Do you want me to make you come, Stella?”

  He had to know I was so close as it was. Maybe he wanted me to really beg for it, more than what I had already been doing. And God, I was not above it. At this point, I would have done anything to feel that crest of pleasure wash over me.

  “Cannon,” I whispered, rising up slightly to look at him down the length of my body.

  “Tell me, baby.” His mouth was glossy from his saliva and my arousal.

  “You know that’s what I want. God, I want that.” The words left me on a whoosh, and I locked gazes with him. The look he gave me had my entire body tightening. It was possessive … lust-filled.

  As if he wanted to prolong my torture, I watched in rapt shock as he slid his hands closer to my pussy, placed his thumbs on my lips, and pulled the tender, sensitive flesh apart. And then he leaned in, all the while staring me in the eyes, and ran his tongue up my center.

  “Oh God,” I gasped out at the sensations filling me
.

  He brought his tongue back to my clit and sucked the tiny bud into his mouth, sucking hard. Rhythmic motions had me grinding myself against him once more. He sucked on me, bringing the tiny bundle of nerves over his tongue and ever so gently running his teeth along it. I couldn’t hold myself up anymore. I fell back against the table, and the dishes finally falling to the ground, the sound of silverware clattering, of plates breaking, couldn’t even dim what we were doing.

  The orgasm that moved through me was intense and heady. He never stopped sucking on me, but instead intensified the feeling by thrusting a thick finger into my pussy as I writhed.

  “That’s it,” he grunted. “That’s so fucking it, Stella. Give it all to me.”

  The orgasm seemed to claim me for an eternity. I was breathless, dizzy, and felt like lead weights filled my limbs.

  When the tremors started to dissipate, I breathed out.

  Cannon lifted me so I was standing, pulled me in close, and kissed me hard and possessively. I melted against him, needing more, so much more.

  “I love you so much, Stella,” he whispered against my hair.

  I rested my head on his chest. “I love you, too.” So much. I loved this boy so much my chest hurt just from thinking about it.

  “It’s you and me. Always.”

  And all I could do was nod, because that was the absolute truth.

  I pulled back and looked up at his face. He cupped my cheek and just stared at my lips, this heavy-lidded expression covering his face. He leaned in slowly and kissed me, the flavor of me and him mixing together and moving over my taste buds.

  The kiss grew more scorching as the seconds passed, and I knew where this was leading. I smelled myself on him, a heady, musky but sweet scent that seemed to make what we were doing even more erotic.

  “I’m thinking taking you back to my room is sounding a hell of a lot better now that I’ve tasted you, Stella.”

  A shiver raced up my spine and I grinned. “How about you show me instead of all the talk?” I challenged him on an aroused whisper.