I loved him too.
He turned to his team mates as they flung themselves on him. Vaulting high and landing on his back, his shoulders and then on top of each other until they were a red tangle of footballers.
Anyone would have thought they’d won rather than just drawn level. But not conceding a loss to Rovers was a win in itself. It had been a tough game, though with just sixty seconds left on the clock the final score was unlikely to change.
The ref blew the whistle to resume play. Left-winger Diego gained possession of the ball and knocked it around an opposition centre-mid. Luke got his foot to it and teased another Rover player with a couple of side-taps before booting it up the midline to a defender.
Another few passes, one minute injury time, and the final whistle screeched through the air.
I heaved out a sigh of relief. One-all we could live with. Well, certainly I could, because I was looking forward to my evening with Luke in his masterful role. Far from being exhausted after a Champions League match he was always ready for action. It was as though the adrenaline of the game lingered in him and his body still needed to work, sweat it out.
Not that I was complaining, the sort of work I had in mind for him would keep me very happy indeed, equally sweaty and riding high on my particular brand of bliss. Or so I hoped.
Two hours later, Luke pulled the Range Rover into our garage and flicked the button on the remote to shut the door behind us. I liked it when he did that. It felt like we were shutting out the world, putting all the media and the fans and the pressures of him being a world-class footballer away for the night.
I flicked off Twitter and dropped my mobile into my Prada handbag, then reached out and rested my hand on his thigh, over his sweats.
He turned to me with his black eyebrows low and his mouth set tight. He hadn’t spoken on the way home, which was often the way. I didn’t mind, he’d explained to me how he liked to go over and over the shots in his memory while they were still fresh. Figure out what he and the team could have done better to win the ball and keep the ball, so that next time they’d be even better.
“Do you want to eat?” I asked, a little quiver attacking my pussy as I looked at him all big, dark and brooding with shadows slicing over his handsome face.
He turned off the engine and rested his big, warm hand over mine. “We’ll eat later.”
A bubble of excitement popped in my stomach. He wanted to get straight to the good stuff then. I was a lucky girl.
He leaned close and his shower-fresh scent and recently applied woodsy cologne filled my nostrils.
“I just need you, Emma. I just want to be with you.”
“Well that can be arranged.” I brushed my lips over his as a tingle ran up my spine and over my scalp. Luke might be a pin-up for many women, his on-pitch skills admired by a million men, but here and now he was mine, all mine.
Ever since he’d proposed three months ago I’d kept pinching myself to make sure it was real. We’d been childhood sweethearts, yet he’d been launched into the stratosphere of fame with his sporting achievements after he’d left the small town we’d grown up in. It wasn’t until we met up again eighteen months ago through a friend of a friend that the spark was reignited. One glance across a crowded wedding reception and all the emotions tumbled back into me, and him too, so he’d said. It was like we’d never been apart.
He hadn’t changed much. He still acted goofy and made me laugh so hard I had tears pouring down my cheeks. Continued to insist on a weekly trip to the cinema to see whatever latest action movie was out, and he always put me first. Whatever we were doing he’d make sure I was okay, that I was happy. Luke was attentive, considerate and caring both in and out of the bedroom. Loving him was easy. Famous footballer or not, it was Luke Hale who’d stolen my heart for all of time. Just him.
I smiled and looked into his dark eyes. His pupils were large, though his lids were heavy, the way they always were when he was thinking about sex; especially equalizer sex.
I knew damn well if I cupped his groin over his jeans he’d be hard. Desire was written all over his face and, it seemed, thoughts of what had gone down during the game had receded into the far corners of his mind.
He kissed me, harder than I’d kissed him, and peeked his tongue into my mouth. His delicious flavour, mixed with the orange sweetness of an energy drink, had me greedy for more.
I ran my fingers into his long strands of hair and clenched my fists. I held his head tight as I fed him kiss for kiss. My body came alive, heat spreading between my legs and my nipples pressing against my bra.
His breaths quickened, so did mine.
He cupped my right breast, squeezed and released, massaging just the way he knew I liked.
The urge for flesh on flesh became a desperate need. I wanted us naked, joined, writhing in ecstasy. I needed him to turn my skin pink and hot and make my body sing with edgy pleasure.
It seemed he wanted all of that too. He tugged at my sweater and slipped it over my head, our kiss only breaking for the briefest moment. A loosening around my chest told me my bra had gone.
“Baby, you taste so good,” he murmured, ducking his head and suckling my nipple.
“Mmm,” I moaned, still clutching his hair. My pussy was dampening, my stomach clenching and I arched my back, pushing into him for more.
He sucked and nipped, sending darts of desire shooting to my groin. I pulled at his t-shirt, dragging it from him and discarding it the way he had mine.
“I need to make you mine,” he said, breathlessly.
“What here?”
“Yes.” He paused, frowned and shook his head. “No, not here. That won’t work for what I have planned. Inside. Now.”
He pulled back and yanked the keys from the ignition so he could let us into the house. I paused for a moment to admire his wide shoulders and the acres of golden skin that rippled as the muscles beneath moved.
After slipping from the car, he hesitated before shutting the door. “Emma?”
“Yes Sir?”
“What are you waiting for? Come on.” His attention dropped from my face to my breasts.
I was breathing fast, my chest rising and falling. My nipples were erect and moist, a little dusky too from his attentions.
“Yes Sir,” I said, opening my door. “I’m coming.”
He grinned sinfully. “We both will be soon.”
Chapter Two
I almost burst into the back hallway in my eagerness to get Emma to our bedroom. Stumbling a little in my haste, I heard a brazen giggle from behind me.
“I saw that,” she said, her blue eyes glinting with mischief and her luscious lips curving at the corners. “The famous Hale feet got tangled.”
“Laughing at your Master are you?” I said, turning to face her and folding my arms.
“Yeah, I did. What are you gonna do about it?” The expression on her face indicated she knew exactly what I had in mind and she was quite happy about it—pushy little brat.
“I think, young lady, that you’ll have to wait and see.” I paused momentarily, hoping to lull her into a false sense of security, then reached out and grabbed her before slinging her over my shoulder.
She let out a shriek, which was quickly followed by a peal of laughter.
“What are you doing, you crazy person? Put me down! I’ll break your back.”
I landed a hearty slap on her jeans-clad arse and the satisfying sound rang around the room. “Shut up, woman. I’m a world-class athlete, didn’t you know? I’m at peak fitness. I think I can handle carrying my fiancée to bed.”
“Well, hurry up then. All my blood’s rushing to my head.”
“Seriously, you’re pushing it big time, telling me what to do.”
Kicking the door to the garage closed, I held on tight to Emma and strode across the ground floor of our house, before turning to head up the stairs, careful not to bash her against any of the door frames or the banisters.
She was silent now. I
guessed she’d figured that was as far as she wanted to stretch her Master’s patience for now.
My eagerness to fuck her carried me quickly up the stairs. Seconds later I flung open the door to our bedroom and deposited her in the middle of our queen-sized mattress. I didn’t bother to close the blinds—we were far enough from the road in our expensive countryside property that even the most powerful telephotographic lenses couldn’t capture snaps of us in our bedroom.
Joining Emma on the bouncy mattress, I crawled over her and captured her lips with mine. God, but she was perfect, she always had been, right from when we gave each other our virginity. My cock was straining hard against the inside of my jeans and she wasn’t even naked. Yet.
We kissed long and hard, lips and tongues clashing and our hands wandering, grabbing, squeezing and stroking. Our oral attentions continued until we were both breathless, and I pulled away, shaking my head in the hopes of getting rid of some of my dizzying lust so that I could function. So that I could think, form words and orchestrate what was going to happen next and be what she wanted me to be.
After a few seconds, I managed to get a hold of myself and I flashed a wicked smile at my wife-to-be.
She writhed a little, saying nothing.
Good girl. Don’t give me another reason to punish you.
“Okay,” I said, “get off the bed and take off the rest of your clothes. Then you may remove the rest of mine.”
Still remaining silent, she scrambled to do as I’d asked, her breasts and bottom wiggling enticingly as she moved.
My view was perfect as I followed her off the bed. Soon, she was naked, and I drank in the delicious sight of her, all blonde hair, perky tits and long legs. Legs I looked forward to having wrapped around me as I pounded into her tight pussy. Not just yet, though. We were going to have some fun and games, first.
Stepping towards me, Emma paused and looked up at me questioningly. She was asking my permission like a good little sub.
“Yes, you can take my clothes off now.” As I spoke, yet more blood rushed to my dick and my heart rate picked up.
“Thank you, Sir,” she said quietly, kneeling down on the thick carpet to unlace my trainers and remove them and my socks from my feet.
I helped her by lifting each of my feet when necessary.
Placing my shoes and socks carefully to one side, she remained stooped before me as she reached up and undid my belt, sliding it from the loops then popping it onto the bed.
I stifled a grin. She knew the drill, did my Emma. Always keep my belt handy, just in case I felt like using it to turn those perfect buttocks of hers red. Which I would, soon enough.
After undoing my button and my fly, she eased my jeans down.
Once more I lifted each leg in turn as she pulled the denim away from me. Folding the designer jeans and putting them on top of my trainers and socks, she reached up for the last item of my clothing—my boxers.
The black cotton was tented, my cock sticking out rudely towards Emma as she carefully tucked her fingers into my waistband—she’d be in trouble if she scratched me with those nails without being instructed to. Slowly she pulled down my underwear. They pooled around my ankles and I stepped out of them, leaving her to add them to the neat pile of clothing next to her. It was the way I always insisted my clothes were stacked.
I wrapped my fingers around my aching shaft, pumping it up and down a couple of times, before fixing my fiancée with a stare. “Well, what are you waiting for? It’s not going to suck itself.”
Immediately, she shuffled into position in front of me. Swiftly pulled her hair into a messy ponytail which she then tied up with the elastic she sometimes kept around her wrist should she need it. That done, she placed her hands on my hips and began worshipping my cock. Emma didn’t just give blow jobs. She took such time and care over sucking me off that calling it a blow job wasn’t doing it justice.
I reached back with my right hand and rested it on the pillar at the foot of our four-poster bed. I knew once Emma got going that I’d need the support—my legs would get wobbly, they’d already worked damn hard today.
She wrapped one hand around the base of my shaft and used the other to cup my ball-sac. After a brief pause, she began to pleasure me—gently tugging and rolling my balls while her other hand squeezed and stroked my cock.
A guttural groan escaped my throat. I wanted her, bad, but when it came to Emma and giving me this kind of pleasure, the journey was just as good as the destination. I had to keep a lid on it, for now, harness some of that stamina that I was so good at summoning on the pitch.
Letting my head loll back, I closed my eyes and waited for the bliss to begin. I didn’t have to wait long. Her warm, wet tongue began to lick delicately at the head of my dick, like she was savouring an ice-cream.
I may be the one in charge, ordering her to her knees in front of me she holds all the power. She’s the one with my cock and balls in the palms of her hands and I love it. Love how we switch and change our dynamics around.
As she upped her game, covering my entire shaft with saliva and pressing a finger to my perineum, I knew I was in for a damn good time.
Before long, her lips closed over my tip and slowly slid further down my dick, enveloping me in her hot, wet mouth and applying just the right amount of suction. Once satisfied she’d gotten it right—the tension in my muscles, my breathing and the sounds I make are indicators, apparently —she began to bob up and down, her tongue flicking wildly around as she did so and her fingers pressing and rubbing at that sensitive patch of skin between my ball-sac and my arse.
It truly was perfection. Every millimetre of my cock and balls got her special brand of loving attention, and I adored her for it. Her wicked lips, teeth, tongue and fingers teased me closer and closer to climax, an incredibly gradual build up which felt amazing but ensured it wouldn’t all be over too soon, despite my initial desperation. Not that it would have mattered to me—the woman always got me so damn hot my cock would be ready to go again in a minute or so—but Emma’s always insisted that when she’s in worshipping mode, she’s there for the long haul.
Chapter Three
Pre-cum spread over my tongue each time Luke withdrew his cock to the outer edge of my mouth. When he pushed back in the saltiness spread up to my palate and mixed with the excess of saliva that was now wetting my chin.
“Ah, fuck, yeah…” he groaned. “Take me, all of me.”
He laced one hand into my hair to keep me held still and ground his hips, setting the rhythm to just what he liked, fast and firm in short, sharp strokes.
I gobbled him down with each forward thrust. My heart was pounding and catching my breath was hard, but I felt so alive like this. On my knees before the captain of the team, my mouth his fuck-hole and my body his to do whatever he wanted with.
“Ah, damn it, what the hell are you doing to me back there…?” His voice broke off.
I continued with my questing fingers, rubbing the silky skin between his balls and his arse and with each slide round just teasing his anus. His firm cheeks clenched but then he spread his legs and I had even better access to his most private place.
“Emma…” he gasped, tightening his hold on my hair. “What…?”
My scalp complained at the sting but I didn’t; I sent the sensation down my body, to my nipples, hard and tight, and then on to my clit, which was aching for stimulation. Feeling high and also daring, I settled my index finger over his arsehole and exerted a steady pressure in the very centre. My slow, gentle action was a stark contrast to the busy movements of my other hand on his balls and my mouth slurping on his cock.
“Fuck, did I tell you to do that…?” He suddenly stilled, completely. His cock bloated in my mouth and a tremble from his thighs shivered into me.
Yes. I had him on the edge. I might be kneeling before him but I owned him. What was more, despite his protest, he wanted me to do what I was doing. He wanted it bad.
For the first time ever I eas
ed the tip of my finger into his arse. Poking through the tight band of muscle into a dark, soft space.
A strangled cry left his lips. It might have been shock at my daring or maybe the new sensation. I wasn’t sure, nor was I sure what had come over me. I was flying on the desire to feed his hunger. His satisfaction was ruling my actions as was the need to take him higher than he’d gone before. I could do it, I could hold him there and then bring him back down, I just knew it.
I delved deeper into his edgy heat. Up to my second knuckle. Then bent my finger forward, onto the front wall of his insides and sought the tiny swelling I knew would be waiting for me.
His knees gave way and he sat on the bed, hard. Tipping backwards with a solid thump he dragged me with him by my hair until we were both horizontal.
The change of position was momentarily awkward for my hand and mouth but then he hoisted his hips up and spread his legs.
Slotted between his firm thighs, my arse in the air, I continued to bob up and down on his cock. The wet, firm pressure of my mouth was keeping his shaft granite-hard and pre-cum leaking from him. I waggled my finger, stroking his insides and pushing so that my entire finger was surrounded by his delicately soft insides and the base, by my knuckle, was hugged by his tight band of muscle.
“I…I…bloody hell, Emma,” he groaned.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw his free hand fist the sheet, crumpling it into a ball. Damn, I’d be punished for this, in a good way of course. Taking him to such a point of desperation wouldn’t bode well for the flesh on my buttocks once this was over.
Still exploring, I found the hard nugget I was looking for. It was hidden deep inside his body and I carefully stroked over it.
His whole pelvis jerked, his thighs clamped against my ribs and his cock nearly slipped from my mouth.
“Fuck,” he shouted, his voice dark and hoarse and laced with desperation. “I’m gonna have to…really fucking teach you a lesson for…this…” he said, gasping for breath.
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