Page 70
Story: Hello Quarterback
But instead of putting words to it, he lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me, taking his time. I could smell campfire smoke on his skin, blending with his cologne. That, mixed with the way he touched me, was more intoxicating than any drink.
My wet hair cascaded down my back, seeping through my pajamas as he walked me back to the bed and laid me down in front of him. But instead of continuing to kiss me, he stepped back, studying my body with hooded eyes. He scrubbed his hand over his mouth.
“What is it?” I asked him.
His answer was to swipe his shirt over his head and lie over me in the bed, kissing me like no amount would ever be enough. Despite the urgency of his kiss, he took his time, slowly sliding his hand up my nightgown and swiping his thumb over my clit, building me up until I fell apart under his touch.
His kiss quieted my moans as I shuddered underneath him, riding wave after wave of exquisite pleasure.
But even though I was sated, he continued kissing me, teasing my nipples with his lips through my nightgown, kissing his way down my stomach, and then lifting my nightgown and bringing his mouth to my heat.
He licked and kneaded, sucked and teased, slipped his fingers in and curled them toward himself until I was rising and falling again, lost in an ocean of pure pleasure.
Only then did he allow me to unbutton his jeans, feel the length of his hard cock, moisture leaking from the tip. I wanted to please him, so I told him to stand at the edge of the bed, and I took his cock in my mouth, wrapping my lips around the shaft and swirling my tongue around the head.
He brushed my hair aside, watching me. “You know how to make me feel good, don’t you, baby?” he murmured.
I hummed against his cock in answer. He bit his lip, playing with my hair while I tried to make him feel half as good as he made me. But before I could push him closer to the edge, he pulled back and flipped me over so he could eat me out from behind, my face plastered to the soft bed. I could hardly breathe through what he was doing to me. Couldn’t do anything but clench onto the already tangled sheets and ride out another wave.
“Ford,” I gasped, rolling to my back and tugging on his arms to bring him closer to me. “What has gotten into you?” My breaths were still shallow, trying to catch up.
He didn’t answer, an intense, fearful look in his eyes.
“Ford.” I held his face in my hands. “What is it?”
His breath came out stunted, and he squeezed his eyes shut. “If I say it, we can’t go back.”
“Say what?”
He shook his head. “I can’t... I...” He lay down beside me, covering his face with his hands.
And some part of me understood. Ford was an athlete. He didn't talk with words but with actions. And I knew that was the language he needed to hear from me.
So I crawled atop his body, straddling him and lowering my raw center over his cock. I eased on top of him, inch by inch, until he was buried inside me. Tears leaked from his eyes, and I didn’t know what they meant. But I knew I couldn’t get enough of him, knew that I didn’t want this to end.
So I lifted and lowered myself on top of him, silently begging him to say what he was holding back. He held on to my hips, watching me, eyes deep, dark blue in the fully lit room.
“Mia,” he breathed. My name on his lips was a drug. I wanted more.
I picked up pace, adjusting so I could ride him longer without my muscles giving up.
“Mia,” he repeated.
“Say it,” I commanded, nearing the edge myself. I braced my heart forthe end, knowing we’d gone as far as we could together. He’d never wanted a real relationship. Not when I showed up to his house professionally styled for a simple first date. Not when I convinced him to let loose in the limo. And seeing me with all his real-life relationships probably brought that point home. Clearly, I wasn’t a small-town girl from Cottonwood Falls. Wasn’t what he ever really wanted.
So I braced myself for pain. For heartbreak.
But there was no way I could prepare myself for the words that tumbled from his lips.
“Mia, I love you.”
My mouth fell open, chest heaving from the effort of being on top. “You...” I knelt in place, feeling him inside me, feeling his words swirling around my brain, trying to find purchase, understanding.
“I love you,” he said.
Moisture stung my eyes as I realized what he was saying. He... “You love me?” I whispered.
“I do,” he said, shifting his hips underneath me to lift me, to press farther into me when we were already as close as two people could get.
My wet hair cascaded down my back, seeping through my pajamas as he walked me back to the bed and laid me down in front of him. But instead of continuing to kiss me, he stepped back, studying my body with hooded eyes. He scrubbed his hand over his mouth.
“What is it?” I asked him.
His answer was to swipe his shirt over his head and lie over me in the bed, kissing me like no amount would ever be enough. Despite the urgency of his kiss, he took his time, slowly sliding his hand up my nightgown and swiping his thumb over my clit, building me up until I fell apart under his touch.
His kiss quieted my moans as I shuddered underneath him, riding wave after wave of exquisite pleasure.
But even though I was sated, he continued kissing me, teasing my nipples with his lips through my nightgown, kissing his way down my stomach, and then lifting my nightgown and bringing his mouth to my heat.
He licked and kneaded, sucked and teased, slipped his fingers in and curled them toward himself until I was rising and falling again, lost in an ocean of pure pleasure.
Only then did he allow me to unbutton his jeans, feel the length of his hard cock, moisture leaking from the tip. I wanted to please him, so I told him to stand at the edge of the bed, and I took his cock in my mouth, wrapping my lips around the shaft and swirling my tongue around the head.
He brushed my hair aside, watching me. “You know how to make me feel good, don’t you, baby?” he murmured.
I hummed against his cock in answer. He bit his lip, playing with my hair while I tried to make him feel half as good as he made me. But before I could push him closer to the edge, he pulled back and flipped me over so he could eat me out from behind, my face plastered to the soft bed. I could hardly breathe through what he was doing to me. Couldn’t do anything but clench onto the already tangled sheets and ride out another wave.
“Ford,” I gasped, rolling to my back and tugging on his arms to bring him closer to me. “What has gotten into you?” My breaths were still shallow, trying to catch up.
He didn’t answer, an intense, fearful look in his eyes.
“Ford.” I held his face in my hands. “What is it?”
His breath came out stunted, and he squeezed his eyes shut. “If I say it, we can’t go back.”
“Say what?”
He shook his head. “I can’t... I...” He lay down beside me, covering his face with his hands.
And some part of me understood. Ford was an athlete. He didn't talk with words but with actions. And I knew that was the language he needed to hear from me.
So I crawled atop his body, straddling him and lowering my raw center over his cock. I eased on top of him, inch by inch, until he was buried inside me. Tears leaked from his eyes, and I didn’t know what they meant. But I knew I couldn’t get enough of him, knew that I didn’t want this to end.
So I lifted and lowered myself on top of him, silently begging him to say what he was holding back. He held on to my hips, watching me, eyes deep, dark blue in the fully lit room.
“Mia,” he breathed. My name on his lips was a drug. I wanted more.
I picked up pace, adjusting so I could ride him longer without my muscles giving up.
“Mia,” he repeated.
“Say it,” I commanded, nearing the edge myself. I braced my heart forthe end, knowing we’d gone as far as we could together. He’d never wanted a real relationship. Not when I showed up to his house professionally styled for a simple first date. Not when I convinced him to let loose in the limo. And seeing me with all his real-life relationships probably brought that point home. Clearly, I wasn’t a small-town girl from Cottonwood Falls. Wasn’t what he ever really wanted.
So I braced myself for pain. For heartbreak.
But there was no way I could prepare myself for the words that tumbled from his lips.
“Mia, I love you.”
My mouth fell open, chest heaving from the effort of being on top. “You...” I knelt in place, feeling him inside me, feeling his words swirling around my brain, trying to find purchase, understanding.
“I love you,” he said.
Moisture stung my eyes as I realized what he was saying. He... “You love me?” I whispered.
“I do,” he said, shifting his hips underneath me to lift me, to press farther into me when we were already as close as two people could get.
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