Page 3 of Maverick (Playing For Keeps #2)

MAVERICK

Sweat beaded across my hairline, plastering my curls to my face.

I trembled in Diesel’s arms but true to his namesake, he held onto me tight.

My thighs quivered, spread to either side of his and giving him perfect access to my ass.

When he shoved the panties aside again and the thick head of his cock notched against my entrance, my breath hitched.

All of a sudden, those two fingers didn’t feel like enough.

This man was going to split me apart but if the way my cock jumped was any indication, I didn’t care .

How I’d held on this long, I didn’t know.

Precome soaked my panties, creating a slick glide for the fabric along my oversensitive dick.

I moaned, rolling my hips over Diesel’s cockhead. It would take nothing for me to drop, letting him fill me up until I felt him in the back of my throat—but he hadn’t given me permission. Try as I might, my body wouldn’t disobey him. It was like it just knew that I was meant to submit.

My lungs burned, desperate for oxygen. Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes until Diesel’s hand curled around my hip, and he muttered the one word I needed to hear. “Slowly.”

Despite my body’s protests, I sank down gently.

I had to. If I gave into the burning desire to spear myself onto him, he’d split me in two.

Moaning and with gentle rocks of my hips, I worked him inch by glorious inch.

The burn was indescribable. Pleasure licked across my veins and sent a shiver down my spine.

Diesel shifted, knocking my prostate and nearly vaulting me off the edge.

He let go of his cock, placing his hands on my thighs and shoving the skirt out of the way as I moved.

Smooth leather gave way to rough, calloused hands that elicited sparks dancing across my skin. He worked with his hands—he had to.

Muscles flexed beneath my fingertips as I explored his body, and I determined that he was likely an athlete too, but I didn’t allow myself too long to ponder the idea. Doing so made this mystery thing a little less mysterious.

Finally, I was fully seated. My body was dying to move, to feel this man railing into me until I was nothing but a blubbering mess—but his hands resting on my hips was all it took for me to keep still.

The promise of being good—being his good girl—was enough.

Still, my hips twitched. My cock throbbed, clear liquid soaking into my panties.

The act of coming in my pants felt wrong…

dirty , but also hot and filthy in all the right ways at the same time.

Diesel shifted, drawing a groan from deep in the pit of my stomach. “Please, Daddy,” I cried. Tears stung the corners of my eyes, crawling down my cheeks before I could stop them.

“Go ahead, baby girl,” he growled, easing his grip. “Take it easy.”

I rose onto my knees and as I sank down again, Diesel met me halfway, pulling a shout from me that made me grateful for the thumping bass of the music.

Even if someone had heard, I didn’t care .

Diesel cupped my throbbing erection in his hand, giving me a not-quite-tight-enough squeeze.

“That’s it, princess,” he praised, my cock throbbing in his palm. “Make a mess of these for me.”

Another guttural sound pressed past my lips.

Arms around his neck, I dropped my head to his shoulder.

My hips moved of their own accord now, Diesel’s hands only serving as a gentle guide.

My heart felt ready to burst out of my chest. I fucked myself onto him at a pace that I could hardly keep up with.

“I’m close,” I whined, feeling that telltale chill zipping down my spine.

Diesel groaned, clenching my hips and rocketing me toward the edge. “Don’t hold back, baby. Let me have it.”

I gritted my teeth, not quite ready—not until he’d claimed me in a way that would remind me of who he was for weeks to come. “Harder,” I pleaded, placing my hands over his. “Mark me.”

The man beneath me snarled , tightening his grip until bruises were sure to form.

A hot tongue on my collarbone, and he sucked the skin into his mouth.

I whimpered, feeling his teeth nearly break the skin.

Heat rushed to the spot, a mark forming almost instantly—but he didn’t stop.

Pain swirled with pleasure and overtook my senses.

I came with a cry that morphed into a shout loud enough to rattle the walls, my cock pulsing my release into the lace panties.

A satisfied hum from Diesel, and his hand was there, blanketing my dick and rubbing the mess back into the fabric.

He stroked, and I shot again, riding out my orgasm between his dick and his palm.

With satisfied sighs, I came down from the high, feeling his still rigid length buried inside me. That gave me a newfound strength, and I bounced on his cock, flattening my hands on his chest for support. Contented hums turned to deep groans and growls of pleasure.

“Good girl,” he husked, pulling me further onto him with each thrust. He licked over the mark on my neck and when his pace fell uneven, sank his teeth in deep, marking me as he spilled deep inside of me.

A second wave of pleasure built, and I almost felt like I’d crashed over the edge a second time.

I felt each pulse of his cock, the hot rush of come settling me in a way nothing else ever had.

Deep, heavy breaths mingled in the air between us, our lungs burning as we fought for oxygen.

“Keep your eyes closed, princess.” I squeezed them shut and the next thing I knew, the blindfold fell away.

I buried my face in his neck, gently kissing and licking over the skin there. “Are you okay?” he panted.

I nodded, but I was quickly growing uncomfortable.

My come-soiled panties were beginning to dry and with the skirt hiked up around my waist, I was getting cold.

At the thought, I shivered and drew closer to Diesel.

“Do you want me to clean you up?” he offered, already moving to rise with me in his arms.

“No,” I said, perhaps a little too quickly. The idea that our night was over settled in like a bucket of cold water over my head. I felt myself getting attached, and I couldn’t let that happen.

I wasn’t going to address the fact that I was already in too deep.

But Diesel chuckled, rubbing a hand up and down my back. “You need some kind of aftercare, baby. I can’t just let you walk away after all that.”

My eyes burned, and I swallowed hard. Yeah, I was fucked. But I laid my head on his shoulder, thinking I might as well get in my cuddles while I could. “Just let me sit here for a minute. I know it’s uncomfortable but… please?”

A low hum, and his chest vibrated against mine. “I can do that.”

With the highs from our orgasms fading, the nerves began to sink in and I did the one thing I did best: ramble. “I get why they call you Diesel,” I teased. “Not many people can hold me like this. At least… not many people want to.”

“Well, they’re missing out. I used to get called ‘Mack’ in high school—like a Mack truck.

Could hit just as hard too.” I blubbered out some sleepy noise that was supposed to be a laugh.

Diesel hooked his fingers behind my soiled panties, pulling out as he tugged the material over my ass and freed me from it one leg at a time.

His release trickled out of me and down my thighs, but I settled quickly with his arms around me again. “Why Teddy? Like a teddy bear?”

“Mm-hmm,” was all I could manage. My size had always been my downfall. People saw one thing and expected another, which resulted in little more than disappointment. Being timid and soft-spoken when you’re built like a tank tended to confuse people, and people didn’t like being confused.

However, I couldn’t voice that—not to a total stranger that I’d never see again.

Keeping my eyes closed, I pushed at his shoulders.

“My… I have someone who’s probably looking for me—a friend.

My best friend,” I quickly added on, not wanting him to mistake that to mean “partner.” I wasn’t the most articulate of people on the best of days, but with Diesel’s thumb stroking the tender skin of my hip, I was nearly rendered speechless.

“Are you sure I can’t help you clean up?” he asked. “That was intense, and you could use the aftercare.”

Yes. Please do. But I shook my head, immediately feeling a twinge of regret in my chest. “This was all I needed, really, but I’d appreciate it if you could show me to the bathroom.”

“Sure thing.”

Diesel helped me to my feet, and I tried to hide how much my legs shook.

Instinctively, I tugged the skirt down to cover myself—though it barely worked.

He spun me around with his hands on my waist and guided me across the room.

After placing my hand on the doorknob, Diesel took a step back and it was all I could do to not whimper at the loss.

“Do you want me to be here when you’re finished? ”

“No, that’s okay. I won’t keep you any longer. What should I do with the skirt?”

“Keep it.” Another tender kiss to my cheek. “Leather and lace suit you, princess.”

Before I could lose myself, I rushed into the bathroom and shut the door behind me.

I peeled my eyes open, blinking to adjust to even the dim light.

I powered on my phone first, letting that settle while I dampened a paper towel in the sink.

Only then did I flip the switch on the wall.

Once my eyes stopped burning, I took in the sight of myself in the mirror.

I was a wreck . My dark curls were disheveled, sticky and sweat-drenched.

My green eyes were reddened around the edges from crying, but neither of those things held a candle to the angry purple hickey settling into my neck.

Absent-mindedly, my fingers came up to brush the bruise.

I’d be marked for weeks, and the idea sent a jolt of pleasure south.

But I shook the thoughts away and went about cleaning myself up. Pulling on my jeans, I tucked the skirt into my back pocket. True to Diesel’s word, he was gone when I passed through the room to emerge into the club.

The performers had finished, and bodies packed the dance floor in the center of the space. My legs quivered beneath my weight, my head was foggy, and I had no desire to writhe against a sweaty stranger for the next few hours—unless it was one in particular.

Luckily, Stetson was easy to spot. He hovered near the bar, smiling at a text on his phone.

Oh, how commitment had tamed him.

When I approached, my best friend offered me nothing more than a crooked brow and that classic shit-eating grin of his. “Someone had a good time,” he snickered, though his cocky demeanor quickly faltered when I had to rely on the bar to hold me up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I admitted honestly. “I’m just really tired. Can we go?”

“That guy didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

“No! Stetson—people are starting to stare.”

“Then tell me what happened!”

I couldn’t help the grin that quirked my lips. “It was great.” Stetson leaned across the counter to the bartender, and I sighed with relief when he handed over a bottle of water. “I probably should have taken him up on his offer to help me clean up, that’s all.”

“You refused aftercare?”

“No! I just…” I picked at the water bottle, surprised by my best fr iend’s sudden dominance. “Maybe I didn't take as much as I needed.”

“And he just let you?”

“What would you do if a complete stranger told you ‘no?’” I snapped. Maybe my tone was a bit harsh, but my head was too fuzzy to think straight—and I had to get out of there before I started searching for the biggest man in the room with locs that I really enjoyed burying my hands in.

“Let’s go.”

After sending one more text, Stetson grabbed my hand and hauled me across the club. We burst into the cool night, and the fresh air combined with the water seemed to clear my head a bit more. Before I knew it, Barrett appeared to drive us back to the hotel.

I rested against the window, the glass refreshing on my heated skin.

Though the drive was short, I found myself dozing.

It was Barrett and Levi’s soft voice that roused me once the car stopped.

“What’s going on?” I murmured, even more confused once we got in the elevator and they pressed the button for their floor, not mine.

“I might not be a dom,” Stetson said, “but I know a couple of them. You’re not getting out of this without aftercare, Mav.”

I was too far gone to argue. I leaned on Barrett, letting Levi guide the way to their hotel room. Perched on the bed, one man undressed me while the other ran a shower.

They at least let me bathe on my own and when I stepped out, Stetson stood in the middle of the bathroom with a hand on his hip—and the leather skirt in the other. Ducking to hide the flush rising over my cheeks, I snatched it from him. “Don’t you know not to touch things that don’t belong to you?”

Apparently, he found it while digging for my room key so he could collect some of my own clothes. Barrett helped me into a pair of underwear and sleep pants, and then I was swiftly tucked into the extra bed in the room. “Are you hungry?” he asked me. “We’ve got leftovers from dinner.”

I was so tired that my filter was nowhere to be found, so I happily accepted.

Stetson and his men doted on me the rest of the night.

Well, Stetson pretended to while pestering me for details about who I’d hooked up with—and where that skirt came from.

The attention was nice, but as I laid down to sleep, I couldn’t help but let my mind drift back to that mysterious man in the back room at Peaches…