Stroker: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

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Stroker: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Page 33

by Teagan Kade


  The rain falls harder. Her hair turns taffy dark, sticking to her cheeks. She runs her hands under my tee and draws it up. I pull it off, sling it onto the turf without breaking the kiss.

  I reach down and undo the button on her jeans, kneeling on the grass and pulling them to her ankles, her panties a warm bundle inside. She kicks off her shoes, her fingers running through my hair.

  I’m huffing like I’ve sprinted a hundred yards, rising and pulling her sweater and top away, snapping her bra off and filling my hands with her soft breasts. God how I’ve missed this. With one hand I drag my pants down, my cock springing free rigid and ready.

  I hold her away, our breath gathered in a hot cloud between us. In less than a minute we’re both completely naked in the middle of the field, bodies warm against the falling rain.

  She slips, falling back onto the turf, floppy and hot.

  I drop to my knees and slide up her body, my hand running between her legs and finding the insides of her thighs sticky and humid with arousal.

  Her hand runs over my ass and I want to combust, to burn alive from her touch alone as the rain collects in the small of my back.

  My hand takes hold of the rounded peach of her backside, her breathing heavy and desperate below me, hair wet, fanned out across the grass.

  I prop myself up with one hand, use the other to wipe the rain from her eyes, rivulets of water running from my forehead, the ground soggy below, the wet all around us. I place my lips to her ear. “Yes.”

  “Yes,” she replies.

  She’s back. She’s mine.

  I can’t decide what I want more, to apply my cock or my tongue to her pussy. Prone below me, she waits.

  “Fuck me,” she says, quietly, desperately.

  I’m shocked and thrilled, her eyes closing and my heat thumping, pounding in my chest with anticipation. “I want you so bad it hurts, but first…”

  I gather her hands above her head, pinning them in place and drawing her breasts tight together on her chest. She spreads her legs, the head of my cock nudging against the swollen lips of her pussy.

  I’m sure she’s stopped breathing, that she’ll only draw it when I enter her.

  I fall forward, stroke into the slick channel of her sex until I’m sheathed completely. She moans, reaching forward and pulling me into a kiss, our tongues sliding and shifting together as I hammer into her hard, our bodies squelching and pressing together on the pitch, the rain beating down on my back as I drive her into the earth.

  Muddy water puddles around us, runs down my back as her fingers pull at my hair, refuse to let me go.

  We’ve made love before, but this is new. This is raw and primal and fucking insane. She’s possessed, gripping and grasping at every inch of me, rocking her hips upwards to take my full length inside, squeezing my cock with her insides and begging for more, pleading into my mouth.

  She bites my bottom lip and my cock twitches inside her close to release. I grit my teeth and hold back, not ready to see this end so soon.

  A steady pulse drums in my groin, my head spinning as her wrists twist in my hand, her whole body convulsing and writhing below me.

  The rain’s cold. We quiver and shake, but it’s impossible to tell whether it’s from the temperature or our frantic union, my feet shifting in the mud for purchase, looking for better ground by which to lever into her.

  I suddenly realize she is at my complete and utter mercy. I can do to her whatever I want, and therein lies the danger.

  She lifts her head, shaking. “Turn me over.”

  “Why?” comes my voice, unsteady.

  “I want you to,” she stops.

  “To what?” I press.

  “Spank me. I want you to spank me.”

  I can’t believe it. I look down at her. She squeezes the muscles in her pussy. I wince. “Do it,” she says, determined.

  “Scarlet…”

  “Do it!” she cries.

  I pull out and flip her over with one hand, a gasp following.

  I swat at her ass, the glancing blow quashing droplets of rain and causing her to stiffen with a short shout of surprise. It’s not the first time I’ve spanked a girl, but it’s definitely the first time I’ve got off on it.

  “Again,” she whispers, and I spank her harder, loving the small squeal that runs from her lips, the way she wriggles her butt.

  I swat at her cheeks again, a bloom of pink lighting up her ass.

  This sudden switch in demeanor is pushing me to the edge, pre-cum already running down the front of my cock, the sudden overthrow of insularity welcome even if it is twisted.

  I lift my hand, but she reaches back. “Wait,” barely able to get the words out she’s panting so hard.

  “What is it?”

  She rushes it out, voice wispy. “My ass. Do me in the ass.”

  I kneel back, my shiny cock pointed to the stormy clouds above, the lights of the stadium beating down on us. “Are you sure?”

  She nods, hands reaching out and clawing into the grass.

  I remember what Josh said and for a moment hesitate, but now I see why she wants it. This is about trust, about getting over him once and for all.

  Her mouth opens in a pained oval as I run a sole finger down the length of her spine, pausing at the top of her buttocks. She moans, her body telling me to explore further.

  I let my finger run back up, trace despondent letters across her back.

  She replies with a gated murmur.

  I take one of her ass cheeks in my hand, reaching to the other and testing it in my grip. Quick as can be, I swipe at her rump again. She squirms and buckles in the mud, her skin flushed and pink, patchy.

  I thought surely this would be too dirty for her, too taboo and forbidden, but her response tells me it’s okay, implores me to continue.

  I straddle her, my balls sitting against her spine as I lean forward, my lips kissing the nape of her neck and dropping in a hot trail until she’s purring, begging for more against the drumming of the rain against the ground around us.

  I turn, press a solitary finger between the flared lips of her pussy. It sinks in easily.

  I can’t take it. I have to taste her before the final act.

  I hop off her back and lie beside her, pulling her on top of me in a sixty-nine, my hard cock below her face and my strong hands holding her thighs.

  I blow on her and she pushes her hips down in response, seeking my mouth, torturing me with an intimacy I have never known until now.

  I blow again, closer now. She writhes and twists in protest.

  Finally, mercifully, I push my tongue inside her. I probe into her wetness and she melts into my mouth, reality falling away so fast all we have become in sensation incarnate against the downpour, all cock and pussy, nothing but arousal, wet and wanting.

  I splay her lips with my fingers in a vee, lapping along the tight crease between her asshole and pussy before pressing the tip of my tongue into the sopping channel of her slit.

  Her clit, fat as a marble, pulses when I dance around it, my tongue continuing to slither and move and push her closer and closer towards climax.

  All the while the rain runs into my mouth, the cold and hot mixing together, salty and wet.

  I take my time, ease her into it until she’s bucking up and down whining and moaning in frustration.

  I let my tongue land on the soft crater of her asshole. She stops, her moan turning into a gasp as I circle her there.

  I rim her slowly with the very tip of my tongue, the soft shaft of flesh coaxing new life from the delicate donut of her ass.

  I can’t believe we’ve never done this before, experienced this kind of pleasure.

  My tongue tightens and I press more firmly. She yields to me. It’s all she can do, whatever resistance she had washed away in the flood.

  My fingers fill her pussy, pressed tight together in the burning wetness there, the heated velvet of her holes hot and slippery.

  I have her, completely.
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br />   I plug her pussy and ass at the same time, my tongue replaced by a finger running into the dark warmth beyond, the two fingers filling her pussy below pressing against it.

  My rhythm and confidence grow, both of her openings penetrated and the muscular ring of her anus gripping me as I jam her clit down on my chin, rocking in position as she nears her peak.

  She lowers her head and takes me in her mouth.

  I hiss into the air, her tongue snaking around my glans.

  The way my cockhead fills her mouth, my shaft hot against the wet folds of her tongue—It’s fucking incredible.

  She sucks me and I fuck her harder with my fingers. She lets me spill out and takes my balls, one and then the other, rolling them around, bathing them in her mouth as I buck and stammer obscenities, the playing field shifting, my control slipping in time.

  I’m close, but I don’t want to come. Not yet.

  She lets a testicle fall damp from her lips. “My ass is ready for you now.

  God, when she talks dirty… the filth coming from her angelic mouth is too much. Just hearing her say the word sends a sharp thrill racing down to my cock.

  “Tell me it’s what you want.”

  Curiosity gets the better of her. I hear it in the quiver of her voice. “I want it.”

  “You want what?”

  “I want you in my ass.”

  She must think she sounds absurd, but little does she know how hot it makes me as I slide out from below and position myself at her rear, lifting her from the ground, her knees sinking into the grass, hair hanging golden from her head.

  I gather her oily arousal in my fingers, lather my cock in it, dab it against her anus. I apply more to the sensitive knot, that infinite source of pleasure pulling closer and closer. Slickened, my fingers dart into her with newfound ease.

  She stiffens, drawing in breath as I press the head of my cock between her ass cheeks, let it slide against her arousal.

  “You won’t hurt me, will you?”

  “Never. Now relax. You’ll see how good it can feel.”

  Trust. That’s all it is.

  I press forward gently. Instinctively, she stiffens and clenches.

  “Relax,” I repeat calmly, nudging into her entrance. It opens fractionally wider.

  I place a reassuring hand onto her side and bend over her back, cooing into her ear. My other hand dips underneath her, fingers playing with her clit. Soon, she eases, loose, open, telling me to continue.

  I press forward with new purpose, the tight aperture of her ass spreading around my shaft as my cock burrows into her slow and solid. Within moments I’m deep and snug inside the hot confines of her ass.

  We both pause locked like this, panting and sweaty, my cock gripped so tight by her body I’m sure she could clench and cut it off at the root.

  I thought anal would drive us apart, the taboo too much for someone seemingly so innocent, but I have never felt such intimacy.

  “I’m so full,” she says, my pubes tickling the wet lips of her cunt below. There is no space between my organ and her ass, the two fused together tight.

  I move, slowly at first until she’s urging me on with strange, nonsense cries, her bloated clit throbbing against my fingers and her orgasm rising hard and fast.

  Soon I’m slamming into her ass. My strokes become rough and long, my powerful body hammering into her tiny frame and the ground around us protesting wetly.

  Empty stands watch on, thunder sounding out above. The rain’s coming down so hard I can barely see, blinking away the wet, Scarlet’s body a blur as I pound into it.

  I reach forward and pull her hair into a tight ponytail, use it to drive to the balls inside her. She grunts, pleads for me to fuck her harder.

  My fingers work faster against the slippery berry of her clit and I draw tight, her core clenching tight ready to explode.

  I slam into her, our bodies coming together wet and thunderous.

  She comes, snaps. Her thighs shake and quiver and I can’t help but follow, my head suddenly vaporous as my release pours forth, spilling from my body with such power I waver in and out of consciousness. I swell and release inside her pulsing ass, groaning hard and gripping her tight, hilting myself and holding there as she shudders and clenches, my cock gripped and released over and over.

  She cries again, a second wave overtaking the first, her climaxes merging together.

  Finally, spent, she grows limp.

  When we are both back in reality, when the pleasure becomes bearable, I ease out of her slowly, her open ass all heat and earthy arousal.

  She collapses to the ground, rolling onto her back and breathing hard. I spread myself beside her slick body, the cold earth wet under my back. She conforms to my side, kisses me, the taste of her lips welcome.

  We lie there for the longest time, bodies tangled together, my cock still pulsing from its fill.

  I extend my tongue, catching the rain. She follows suit and we laugh. It’s like we’re teenagers again, sneaking down to the soccer field, but that was a dream—a dream no longer.

  “You’re full of surprises, Scarlet Matthews.”

  “You’re just full of it.”

  I roll her on top of me, my cock hardening. I run a finger down her back, over her ass and into the deep crease of her sex. “Have you had enough yet?”

  “Never,” she says. “I’m not done with you yet.”

  “How about we hit the showers?” I offer.

  She reaches down, fingers wrapping themselves around my cock. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  SCARLET

  It’s been one glorious week since that fateful night at Atlas. I wake up sore, but in a blissful, too-much-time-between-the-sheets kind of way. Jensen’s gone, but he told me that last night. He’ll be back into training now with the last game of the season coming up.

  Won Ton’s wrestling a dirty pair of Jensen’s jocks across the room. “I wouldn’t if I were you.” He stops, gives me a quizzical expression before getting right back into it. I actually found Jensen asleep on the sofa the other day, Won Ton curled up in his arm snoring away. I couldn’t get my phone out quick enough, had to capture the moment to make sure I wasn’t caught in a dream.

  And there’s no other way to describe it, what we have. For so long I’ve dreamt of a relationship like this. At the end, living with Josh was purgatory, eggshells wherever I walked, but with Jensen, I’m free. I’m more than free. I’m out of control and it feels so damn good.

  I stretch out, the tender ache between my legs casting my mind back to my most recent orgasm. I don’t think Jensen’s monster of a dick ever hibernates, always hard and at the ready for me. I’m doing things even the Kama Sutra would blush at, things I never even knew my body was capable of. “Wait ’til I show you my red room,” Jensen joked last night. When he pulled out the ropes I almost started to believe him.

  It took me a while to work out why I’m willing to go there with Jensen, when I clearly wasn’t with Josh. It’s more than his cut body and infinite stamina. It’s the way he makes me want to live on the edge a little, to let go. It’s new, real new.

  I take a quick shower, toweling off my hair when there’s a knock at the door. I consider opening it in the nude until I find it’s the postman on the other side of the peephole. I tie my dressing gown, Won Ton yapping around my feet as I open the door.

  “Miss Matthews?”

  It’s eye-scorchingly sunny out there. I retract back inside, squinting. “Yes.”

  “Package for you, ma’am. Sign here, please.”

  I sign the postman’s tablet thingy and take the parcel. I close the door and open a blind, looking to find a return address, but there’s nothing. The handwriting looks kind of familiar, but that’s about it.

  “What have we got here, Won Ton? New scrubs? A hot read? Box of chocolates?”

  ‘Woof, woof!’ comes the reply.

  I open the end and reach in. I pull out a local newspap
er folded in half. It’s not exactly what I was expecting. We’ve had a couple of shots run this week, no longer worried about hiding our relationship or keeping our PDAs in check. We’re flaunting it now. The paper’s nothing special… until I flip to the front page.

  I suck in a sharp breath, unable to release it.

  A picture of Jensen takes up the entire front page, but that’s nothing new. He’s graced the front pages of many publications before—some a little more risqué than others. But this picture is different. He’s smiling, but slightly out of focus. What is in focus is the diamond ring he’s holding—simple band, pear-shaped solitaire. It’s like he’s thrusting it through the page to me. The headline reads ‘Will she say yes?’

  Will who say yes? I think stupidly before reading the first couple of lines and working out it’s me, of course.

  Holy holy hell balls. PDAs don’t come much bigger. Jensen Jetstream Collins is asking me to marry him.

  I finally breathe, the paper trembling in my hands. “Whoa.”

  “So?”

  I almost fall over I spin around so fast. I’m half-collapsed, back against the door. He’s standing before me with the same ring extended.

  “I thought you’d left for training?” I stammer.

  He shrugs, still smiling. “Hid in the laundry a while. I folded some towels while I was waiting. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “I, ah...”

  He gets down on one knee. “Scarlet Sexy-Time Collins,” he starts.

  I drop the paper and place my hands against the door to stop myself from sliding to the floor unconscious. “Are you sure?” I cut in.

  He laughs, still pinching the ring between two fingers. “Am I sure? Of course I’m sure. I don’t get down on one knee for just anyone, you know.”

  “But…” I actually cannot think of a reason he shouldn’t continue.

  “Scarlet Sweet-Jesus-I’m-In-Love Collins,” he goes on, speaking over the top of me, “you have come into my life and turned it upside down. You’re the most beautiful person I know, inside and out, generous, kind and smarter than I could ever hope to be. You’ve always been there for me and I will always be there for you, no matter what. Oh, and you have a killer ass. So, what do you say? Will you marry this handsome devil?”

 

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