Throttle: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by Teagan Kade

  I moan, hands spreading out across the sheets. I can smell the deep, earthy aroma of my arousal, the woody overtones of his perfume strong.

  God, my heart is pounding so hard I’m expecting it to jail-break out of my chest and leap across the bed. He has to feel it, know how hot I am for him right now.

  He’s a player. This is all he knows.

  I refuse to believe it, believe he’s a big cock and nothing more.

  He releases my nipple and kneels between my legs. He devours me with his eyes. “You’re too perfect, Grace. You shouldn’t be with me.”

  I spread my legs wider, my oily folds on full display. “I want you. Please.”

  He shakes his head. “I can’t do it, can’t let you break your own rules.”

  “Please,” I beg.

  He watches me for a moment, debating. “I’ll meet you halfway.”

  He straddles my body, working his way up until he’s kneeling over my chest, my nipples arrowheads against his ass. He lowers his cock to my mouth, brushes the head of it against my lips, softly stroking his shaft.

  The sight of him holding himself, his strong hand around his cock… I could very well come with my V card intact tonight.

  I lick my lips and taste his pre-cum, a pearly drop of it whisked away by my tongue. I moan, swallow it down, seeing in his expression the way it kills him to be so close.

  My pussy begins to clench.

  “Spencer, fuck,” I gasp, struggling to get in enough oxygen. He strokes himself harder, faster, jerking off over my face.

  I swallow hard, the hint of him still in my mouth, the room growing smaller and smaller by the second.

  His hand pumps furiously. It’s the confidence that undoes me, the masterful way he knows how to draw out his own pleasure.

  I close my eyes and come, my orgasm uncoiling from my core, spreading out through my wasted body.

  Dimly, I feel Spencer stiffen and sit back, opening my eyes at the precise moment he growls with pleasure, his release sent out in hot ribbons over my chest.

  My climax rises again, shifts and falls, assaults me until I’m limp.

  Spent, it takes me a moment to come to. My neck and chest are beaded with sweat and cum, Spencer stepping off the bed. He swipes his shirt off the floor, wiping me clean.

  Then his mouth is on me. His hot lips are right there on my wet pussy, and everything, every nerve and muscle I have, wants it.

  There’s so much sensation it’s overwhelming. I buck and squirm, my hands on his head, but I don’t push him away. I don’t want to fight this.

  He licks slowly at first, tongue soft as it probes around my slit. His mouth is warm against the heat of my own need, our juices running together as he laps harder, concentrating on my clit, bearing down, chin grinding against the no man’s land between my ass and pussy.

  Clearly, this isn’t his first rodeo.

  He flicks my clit over and over, hitting it just right with the tip of his tongue, always skirting around the sensitive center until I’m whispering his name drunk with come-lust.

  He works a finger inside me, runs it in and out of my hole as much as my obstruction allows. His thumb drops, presses up against my asshole and it’s done.

  I shake and cry out, shaking and screaming while he holds my legs open, keeps me restrained while my second climax spirals on and on.

  I try to catch my breath, actual tears in my eyes as he moves up my body and kisses me on my cheek.

  “I barely touched you,” he muses. “Has anyone ever gone down on you before?”

  I shake my head, still full of cotton wool. “Never.”

  “I guess that makes this a first for the both of us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I’ve never done that to anyone I actually cared about before.”

  He runs his hand up the side of my face, brushes a strand of hair out of the way so he can better see my eyes, see the way they’ve collapsed like fallen stars before him.

  “I want you inside me,” I tell him.

  I see can right into his soul through those eyes. There is light there. I know it. I swallow, mouth dry.”

  He holds me tight, arms firm, strong. “I want to fuck you so bad it hurts, truly, but we can take our time. I want it to be right for you—perfect.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “I am.”

  And so we wait. We just lie there together as he holds me. His cock fills, grows hard against my leg until he falls asleep, and it’s at that moment I know how far gone I really am. This is it. I don’t want anything to change. This man, this heavenly creature, is all I ever need, maybe all I’ve ever wanted, which is why betraying him is going to be so hard.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SPENCER

  My phone rattles on the glass of the side table. I turn over. Grace is still there, one breast out of the sheets, the pink pillar of a nipple there for the taking. She’s so angelic, milky white perfection I want to touch and kiss and fuck and hold her forever. I don’t care what anyone says, she’s mine. Nothing will come between us.

  I knock the phone off the table, let the carpet mute the vibrations until it stops.

  I watch Grace’s face, so innocent and pure, but I know below is a fiery, independent girl ready to take on the world, destroy anything that stands in her way.

  I just hope it’s not me.

  My dear brother gave me the head’s up the day before she was due to arrive. Alexander has connections everywhere, even at the Times half a world away. It was a supposed to be a secret, but the inner circle knew—Grace Everett wasn’t being sent here to write a puff piece at all. No, her job was to dig up as much dirt as she could. They had to know what they were sending, that I wouldn’t be able to resist her.

  They were right.

  And what now? Now that you’ve fallen for her.

  That’s up to her. She has to decide what to write.

  I thought Alexander might go to our parents, shed light on this whole scam, but no, he wants his fun. He may be the UK’s favorite son, but I know who he really is, the serpent shielded away from the world behind baby-kissing and big smiles.

  Fucker.

  I thought the Peacock would work, scare her away right from the get-go. She wouldn’t be the first girl to run after getting an eyeful of Big Ben.

  But she didn’t—not at first. She came back, willingly. She seduced me and she didn’t even know she was doing it… or did she? I really don’t know any more.

  All these strange thoughts swirl and simmer as I watch her, soon falling back to sleep to at the sound of London in motion outside.

  *

  I wake to a dream.

  Grace is standing by the window. She’s silhouetted by the sun wearing only cotton panties, the twin dimples at the base of her back so close to the badlands between her legs. The sun’s rising right between them—heaven on earth.

  I sit up on an elbow and swallow hard. My mouth is parched.

  I’m used to flashy thongs and colourful lace, but the stretched-out, cheap cotton underwear Grace wears turns me on even more. It’s the kind you buy in bulk and label for each day of the week with a fat marker. But for me, a man of questionable desires, its plainness only makes it more seductive.

  She looks over her shoulder and smiles, sees where I’m looking. “All I had that was clean. Not exactly sexy.”

  I have to clear my throat before speaking, gather up some kind of moisture to make words. “Yet again, I beg to differ.”

  She giggles, motioning at my now profound erection turning the sheets into Mount Blanc. “I can tell. Maybe you can come over, help me take them off?

  I can tell by the colour in her skin she’s embarrassed acting like this, but it’s fucking adorable. I swallow again. “Yes, I think I will.”

  I get up and move over to her, crouch behind her and run my hand beneath the warm waistband of her underwear. I brush the perfect porcelain of her skin and pull her panties down with the sound of sheets bei
ng pressed into a basket.

  I leave them spanned out between her thighs, her ass bare.

  She’s shaking, nervous.

  I finish drawing them down. She lifts her leg and lets me unhook them from around her ankles until they’re a warm ball in my hand.

  Before me is the most beautiful sight in the world. The twin globes of her buttocks are tight and round, the outline of her bare pussy lips caught in the intersection where they meet her legs. There’s a small mole above her left cheek and I have to restrain myself spreading her ass apart and burying my tongue deep in her hole.

  My breathing runs ahead of me. My heart running in a marathon, thumping against my chest.

  “How about this?” She turns around and runs her hand between her legs, masturbating before me.

  Eyes like a winter lake sink deep into my soul.

  I feel like I’m going to suffocate.

  She stops, cheeks on fire. “This is so silly. I’m not like this. Not…”

  “What?”

  “Sexy.”

  I run my hands behind her and take hold of her ass, lifting her onto the window seat, her bare back against the glass. She shivers. My temples beat as I let one hand come away and slide between us, run through the wet furrow of her slit. The pad of my thumb falls on her clit and her entire body straightens up as if pulled by a wire.

  Her slender fingers close around my cock, breath coming in short, stunted gasps.

  I lean forward and kiss her, force my tongue inside her pretty little mouth, let it deepen and deepen, the bitter-sweet taste of her incredible.

  She runs her fingers over my foreskin, jerking my shaft off and looking at me with her pale, cornflour eyes. “Does that feel good?”

  She asks it with such naïve curiosity, I can only respond with truth. “Yes,” I tell her, “it feels fucking amazing.”

  She laughs. “You really do have a big cock.”

  The way she says ‘cock’, like a nun cursing, almost sends me over the edge.

  Big Ben swells with pride against her fingers.

  The sight of her is too much. I break away, let us stand eye to eye, our noses together.

  She wraps her legs around me, hooks her ankles to the base of my back. Between us, her cunt is a gaping canyon, waxed smooth in shadow. Her entrance glistens like a pearly eye.

  I add more pressure to her clit. She’s wet, soaking wet. I jiggle the small bud between my fingers and she wheezes, eyes rolling upwards, knuckles ivory as they clutch at the edge of the seat.

  “Oh god,” she moans. Her eyes are closed. Her mouth is open, snared in time.

  The musky desire that floats from between her legs is heady. Hot, mercurial sensations run through my body. My cock rises sharply with psychotic hunger.

  “Hold them,” she gasps, motioning to her breasts.

  I close my fingers around one and sigh at the beauty of it. Her nipple hardens against my touch, her breasts equal perfection, two halves of a whole.

  I work the nipple with my thumb, rolling it out and then simply holding her tit in my entire hand until her breathing changes and her soft whimpers send tingles down my spine.

  I run my fingers down the inside of her ripe labia with my free hand. Her pussy sucks my finger in like a small mouth, the very tip of it pressing against the rubbery buttress of her hymen as I go deeper.

  The inner lips of her cunt are swollen and red. I want to kneel on the carpet and bury my face in her fruity folds, but the hunger in my cock is greater. I have to be inside her with a desperation not even the big C can fill.

  I slip the tip of my finger further inside her, stretching the thin barrier of her innocence.

  “Fuck,” she gasps.

  I pull my finger away but she wraps her slim hand around my wrist and presses it back in. “Don’t stop.”

  I move my finger in and out, slowly widening her hole, circling my thumb around the inside of her opening. She closes her eyes and her head falls back, red filling out her cheeks and a fine gauze of sweat at her hairline.

  I use her own cum to test the elastic give of her sex. She’s panting, rocking her hips forward until I can feel the soft sides of her thighs.

  She lets go of my cock and reaches along the windowsill. In her hand is a condom, an invitation.

  “You’re sure,” I ask, knowing I’m unable to resist.

  She nods and I take the wrapper, tearing it open with my teeth and sheathing my cock.

  There’s a strong convection of warmth cooking my core. My need, my want for her is so desperate my cock twitches as she guides it into her center. She rocks her hips forward, teasing me.

  I can feel the heat and desire rolling off her in waves, her hole hot and waiting. Against her meager frame my member looks monstrous.

  She pulls back and looks deep into my eyes, panting, the sultry way her lips are parted fucking deadly. “Am I wet enough?”

  I almost laugh. Is the Pacific? “I think so.”

  She presses my cock downwards and scoots forward on the ledge until her pussy sits right at the edge, legs hard around my waist, her slit pulling open like an eyelid, its wet and gleaming eye waiting.

  My body stiffens as I press my cock into the hot space between her legs. Embedded in her bare vulva the head of my member looks huge, the shaft a twisted, knotted tree caught in a wet pillow of absolute purity.

  “What do I do?” she inquiries, an honest question.

  I look down between us at the heavenly meeting of our bodies, hers an unblemished angel. “Just relax. There might be a bit of pain at first, but it will pass. Are you sure you want this?”

  She breathes in before responding. “I trust you.”

  Her permission undoes me, sends me slamming forward, driving through her hymen from the first stroke.

  The initial squeak that spills from her mouth fades as I begin to fuck her. With each outstroke I can feel her hole closing, not yet used to being taken. She’s as tight as I imagined, possibly more so as I plunge in again, squeezing my butt together to press the head of my cock deeper into her. I press forward with my weight until my face is against hers, her breasts jammed up against my chest and my cock running long.

  “Am I hurting you?” I whisper.

  “No,” she moans. “It’s starting to feel good. I love the feeling of you inside me.”

  She spreads her legs apart wider and my cock slides even deeper. The air-con kicks in, a breeze whisking through the room, and Grace shivering in response, reaching two fingers down to rub her clit in large, concentric circles between us.

  Pleasure bubbles through my veins. I try to suck in as much of this as I can, fill my memory for all time with this sensation as her muscles clench around me. I’ve never experienced sex like this, never knew it was even possible to be so connected to someone.

  “Please,” she breathes out, a genuine plea, “please don’t stop.”

  I have no intention to.

  I have to calm myself as the trigger tightens. I’ve always been proud of my endurance, my ability to hold off so my partner can come first, but deep in Grace I’m not so sure I can. She’s different, she’s fragile.

  Grace continues to tweak her clit, mouth caught in a paroxysm between pain and pleasure as my hips swing into her. That image almost sees my cock baulk and fire, but I resist, drawing back and plunging over and over into her wetness, her juices thickening around my length as she begins to move against me, her butt lifting upwards as I pound her with everything I can muster.

  I breathe hot against her neck as I drive myself into her young body, pistoning my cock into her cunt with as much speed as I can, and marvelling at the way my member is caught in the clamp-like constriction of her pussy.

  She kisses me, presses her tongue awkwardly past my lips. Her technique is all wrong, it’s immature, but it’s right for once, it’s real. My tongue fights back until all I hear is the wet squelch of my cock as it slides inside her echoed by our twisting tongues above.

  I’m lightheaded, ap
proaching orgasm. She senses it, squeezing her thighs around me. Her heels press at my backside, pushing me deeper.

  “It’s okay,” she says, breath hot on my face. “Come.”

  I focus on the exquisite snap of sensation that occurs when my cock gives in and I release.

  I press a little harder, rocking up against her clit and fingers with my pelvis and forcing her own orgasm. She thrusts up against me and bites into my shoulder as her entire body jerks and flaps by unseen forces. Her cunt contracts and flutters opens in quick succession with her climax, milking me with every squeeze until my balls literally ache from being drained with such efficacy.

  When she’s done, I withdraw, milky desire dribbling onto the edge of the sill below.

  Her cheeks are burning, her eyes are glazed over in heat. Her chest bellows furiously in and out. I look down at my cock, sheathed and streaked with her juices.

  “You’re still hard,” she notes, and I am, rock hard, in fact. It hasn’t happened in years. Typically I wilt like a leaf in a summer storm after sex, but my cock now stands tall and proud, throbbing for more.

  “So I am. What do you think we should do about it?”

  She looks at my cock quizzically. It just swings there, twitching involuntarily. “I might have an idea or three.”

  We don’t leave the room all day.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  GRACE

  “What did you say this one was?”

  Zoe eyes me suspiciously. “Some kind of green tea hippie herbal bullshit.”

  I breathe it in. “You know, I think I’m coming around to this place.”

  The café’s quieter than usual. Zoe sits back, eyes narrowing. “What’s going on here?”

  I can’t help it. I smile.

  She’s onto me in a second. “Stop the fucking press, you slept with him, didn’t you?”

  I give her the ol’ ‘keep your voice down’ scowl before relaxing back. “Perhaps.”

  Zoe shakes her head, crosses her arms. “No, no, no. No, no, no, no, no, you slept with,” she lowers her voice, “royalty, and all you’re going to give me is ‘perhaps’. Come on, I told you about that freaky guy who tried to put ginger up my ass at Harvard, didn’t I?”