I stand there staring at Christian, my gaze moving over the tightness in his jaw, as well as the fierceness in his eyes, as I try to process the question still lingering on his kissable lips.
He leans into me. “What do you know about fucking, Maize?” he growls into my ear, sending shivers of hot desire through my trembling body.
I swallow hard, and the sound gets drowned out in the rowdy crowd and for that, I’m grateful. But does it matter? I’m pretty sure the man who bought me a few weeks ago can feel the tension, the need emanating from my body as he hovers over me, his groin pressed against my body in a way that has shut down my ability to think with any sort of clarity. I might not be his regular type, but tonight, I think I’m going to be his everything. Or at least I hope so.
Is this really happening?
His head dips, his lips close to mine. “Answer me.”
“Christian…I.” What the hell do I say? I know nothing about fucking, other than how the moving parts fit together. I fumbled around in the dark with Ryan, for God’s sake, and took no pleasure in the actual messy, painful act of sex.
His fingers tighten on my shoulders, and the rough pads of his thumbs are sure to leave a bruise, but what frightens me most is how much I like it, how much I like when he holds me in place…holds me down hard, like he did that day I was injured. Dear God, I can’t even believe I’m admitting that to myself. Does that make me weak, feeble, a delicate little girl in need of a man’s care? I pride myself on being capable, strong—unbreakable.
But I don’t want to be any of those things right now. No, I want Christian to…break me. God, what am I saying? What am I admitting?
His gaze moves over my face, like he can see the internal struggle going on inside my brain, see exactly where my thoughts have strayed, and more importantly, exactly where they’ve settled. He nods, a slow movement of his head, like he’s coming to some hard-earned conclusion himself and I can’t help but think he too has been battling his own demons.
“Is this where we are, Maize?” I stare at him, and get what he’s asking. This has nothing to do with being in the Growler, nothing to do with our location in the hallway. This has everything to do with this tug between us, one we’re both clearly feeling. But what he’s really asking is, are we going to act on it?
Do we really have a choice? I don’t know about him, but if he doesn’t touch me soon, I’m going to melt into a puddle at his feet.
“Christian,” a high-pitched voice says from behind. “What are you doing in the hall? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Annoyance spills from the pretty girl’s lips as she grabs the back of his jacket and pulls. Without taking his eyes off me, he rolls his shoulder to shrug her off. An angry sound rises in her throat and she moves around him to glare at me with hate and disdain. I take in the scowl on her face, but my gaze is forced back to Christian’s, when he cups my chin and bluntly moves me.
“Is this where we are, Maize?”
I take a breath, try to fill my constricted lungs, and as I let it out, I say, “Yes.”
His pupils dilate even more, his pulse pounding at the base of his throat as he pulls me from the wall. “Home. Now.”
Before I know what’s happening, he has my hand and is tugging me through the crowd, his stride a bit slower than normal, and I chalk that up to my injured foot. I scan the bar and catch Kaitlyn smirking at me. She gives a little finger wave and a nod of approval as he drags me outside, the cooler night air falling around us.
Without a word, he takes off his team jacket, drapes it over my shoulders and scoops me up, setting me in the passenger side of his Jeep. I still can’t quite get enough air as he circles the front, and climbs in beside me, his big presence eating up the space and completely overwhelming me. The smell of his freshly soaped skin reaches my nostrils and my girly parts tingle as I breathe him in.
Five agonizing minutes later, he carries me up the long flight of stairs at the back of Wolf House, and when we reach his bedroom, he steps inside, kicks his door shut with a hell of a lot of force, and sets the lock. The sound of the bolt sliding home sends shivers through my overheated body.
I stare at him as he sets me on my feet, shoves his jacket from my shoulders, and presses my back to the door. The fierce energy radiating off him glides over my skin. Is he always like this after a game, or does this have more to do with the tension that has been building between us?
His head dips, his lips a breath away from mine, and a whimper catches in my throat. My God, I don’t think I’ve ever whimpered in my life. He cups my face, his thumb brushing over my lower lip.
“This fucking mouth.” He shoves his thumb between my lips and I suck. “I can’t stop thinking about fucking this mouth,” he murmurs and draws his thumb out to put his hands on my ribcage, his thumbs touching the underside of my breasts. “I want to fuck you everywhere.”
I gulp, and he stands back, his hands falling as he looks me over, like he’s gauging my reaction to his crass words. I’m sure the quiver in my body is a dead giveaway—to him and me—how much I like it. Who knew I’d like dirty talk?
His gaze rakes over me, and something flashes in his eyes. Need, want…worry? For one quick second, I think he’s changed his mind about going any further with me, but then his gaze jerks back up to mine, and like he’s no longer in control of himself, he picks me up again like I weigh nothing, and carries me to his bed. He sets me down, drops to his knees, and with little effort removes my boot. He lightly runs his fingers along my ankle after he frees it from the binding, and the rest of my body aches for that kind of attention.
“Better?” he asks, his voice deep and labored as he stands, and I can’t stop myself from staring at the huge bulge in his jeans. Christian is aroused…because of me. That thought does the strangest things to the needy spot between my legs and my throat grows dry with desire.
“Yeah,” I manage to get out, and I swipe my tongue over my bottom lip as I envision myself with his cock in my mouth. His growl pulls me back from my musings.
“Look at me, Maize.” My head lifts as his commanding tone dampens my panties even more. What is it about his take-charge attitude that turns me on so much? I don’t know but…please don’t stop.
His fingers fist and relax again at his sides. I get the sense that it’s taking all his effort to keep it together, and that thought turns me on even more.
“Been taking care of yourself for a long time huh?”
I grip the bedsheets, curl them in my fingers. “Yes.”
He sinks to the floor, crawls toward me, and grips my knees. He widens my legs and slides one hand up my inner thigh, touching my sex through my clothes.
“So gorgeous.” He widens my legs even more and the second he touches me, his rough finger caressing my swollen clit through my pants, my synapses stop firing and my body burns with an unfamiliar want.
He presses his finger a little harder against my clit, drawing my attention down. “Even here?” My God, no one has ever asked me such a personal question before. I stare at him, my mouth opening and closing. He cocks his head. “It’s easy, Maize. Yes or no?”
“No…Yes, I mean…I don’t know.” With my Catholic upbringing kicking in, I try to slam my thighs shut, but he won’t let me. I’m strong, but he’s stronger. He sits there waiting for an answer, his hand still on my clit, as my brain races. Ryan and I fumbled around in the dark and it’s far too bright in this room. When I touch myself, I do it without sound, fearful of anyone hearing in the dead of the night. How am I going to go through with this?
“I need to know, Maize.”
“Yes, even…there.” I glance around. “It’s too bright in here.”
Ignoring me, he goes back on his heels, his hands on my thighs. “So what do you know about fucking?”
My first reaction is to blurt out, “A lot.”
He angles his head, and goes thoughtful for a moment. “You’ve done this before, then?”
“Yes. I’ve had sex. Ryan and I…well, we had sex,” I blurt out, although he has no idea that my childhood friend and I deflowered each other, all with zero romance. What the hell am I even thinking? This isn’t romance. This is about fucking. The one and only Christian Moore doesn’t do romance or relationships. He fucks. Simple as that.
The muscles in his jaw tighten. “This isn’t the first time you’ve mentioned Ryan. Who is he?” he asks through clenched teeth, and a wave of embarrassment moves through me. I’m not about to tell him the story. Although from the look on his face, I fear he might just drag it out of me.
I give a dismissive wave, and note how shaky my hands are. “Just a guy, from a long time ago.”
His gaze narrows in on me. “Is he here, at Kingston?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Good, now I don’t have to kill him.”
I stiffen. “Why would you—”
“He obviously means something to you. You keep bringing him up.”
“He’s just a guy from back home. A friend I grew up with. The boy next door.”
He stares at me long and hard, like he’s trying to process. “You fucked a friend?”
“I don’t date, Christian. I fuck,” I say, with more bravado than I feel as I shoot his words back at him, and he grins.
“Is that right? So you and Ryan fuck, then?”
“We did once.” I give a frustrated sigh and hit the bed with my fist. “We just…wanted to get rid of our virginity before college. Him more than me.”
His fingers curl. “It was mutual?”
“Yes,” I say quickly, and take in the anger in his eyes. What would he have done if it wasn’t? “I was tired of being a virgin.”
“You did it once, then.” He nods and scrubs his face. “You know nothing about fucking, do you?”
“No, I don’t,” I admit. Will he leave now? Leave the inexperienced girl who knows nothing, to take the edge off herself while he goes and gets a seasoned girl who knows how to please a guy?
“Good.”
His answer takes me by surprise. “Why is that good?”
“Because I get to be the guy to show you how good it can be. There won’t be any fumbling in the dark,” he says, pushing me down on the bed as he glances at his lamp. “The lights stay on. I want to see you.”
He holds me immobile. A gasp I have zero control over crawls out of my throat and he stares at me so long, I swear he can see all my dirty secrets, read all the filthy thoughts that would have undoubtedly send my old Catholic teachers into a frenzy. Do I care? Hell no, and yeah… Hell. That’s where I might be going. But right now, I suspect this man is going to take me to heaven and I’m ready for the ride because I want this.
I want him.
Consequences be damned.
He stands up, reaches over his back in typical guy fashion, grabs his shirt and pulls it over his head. Starting at his shoulders, my gaze drops, taking pleasure in every bump and valley. For the last few weeks, I’ve tried not to stare, but now I can look my fill.
“Sit up,” he commands, and I do what he says. He steps up to me, takes my hand and puts it on his body.
“You’ve been staring for weeks, Maize. I thought maybe you’d like to touch.”
I nod—no sense in denying it—and unable to find my words, I run my hands over his taut skin and hard muscles. My breathing changes, and when he rips into his jeans, I nearly collapse. He stands there, with the button open, and a measure of panic goes through me. Do I shove my hands in his pants? Do I take him into my mouth like he talked about?
“Relax, Maize.” He runs the back of his hand over my cheek, his eyes full of understanding. “I’ll walk you through this.” I nod, and look down, but he touches my chin, bringing my eyes to his. “Tell me you want that.”
I nod again.
“I need to hear it.”
“I want that,” I say, pushing those three words from the depths of my dry throat. “I want…you.” The next thing I know he’s on his knees, his hand cupping the back of my head as his mouth finds mine. His lips devour me, eat at me as he unceremoniously puts his tongue into my mouth, seeking mine. I give him what he wants, shutting my eyes against the intense pleasure sliding through my quivering body. My nipples harden and it teases every erogenous zone in my body, even a few I had no idea existed until now—until this man. There is only one word to describe what I’m currently feeling. Heaven.
“Sweet mother of God and all that is holy.”
“Are you praying, Maize?” he murmurs, before going back to doing insane things to me. Tasting, teasing, licking…owning. This man is going to own my body tonight.
I work to form a coherent sentence as that thought circles my brain, warning I should probably be more frightened by that. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to say any of that out loud.”
He inches back, his lips damp from our kiss. “Don’t be. I want you to tell me everything. What feels good, what doesn’t. I don’t want you to hold anything back. That’s what fucking is all about.”
“Okay,” I say. He takes my hands and puts them back on his body, and his muscles flex as I explore, touch him all over, reveling in the tightness of his skin as I run my palms around his back—wanting to touch every last inch of him. I slide upward and fist my fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss and his growls of encouragement fill me with bravado.
He breaks the kiss. “This is how it’s going to work,” he says, the intensity in his eyes letting me know he’s calling the shots—because clearly, I know nothing about fucking. “I’m going to put my mouth, my hands and my tongue on every inch of your body…” His hand slides lower, going between my breasts until he reaches the juncture of my legs. “Even here.”
“I’ve never…”
“Yeah, I get it. Ryan didn’t do right by you, and while I might have mixed feelings on that, I’m totally going to give you everything you deserve.”
While I don’t understand what he means about mixed feelings, now is not the time to ask, not when he’s tugging the elastic from my hair, letting it spill down my back.
“I get you like control,” he begins. “But I told you before that’s not going to stop me from telling you what to do.” His grin is playful, but so damn needy I could weep with joy. Christian wants this as much as I do. Honestly, no matter how many times I tell myself that, I still can’t quite wrap my brain around it. “Are you going to fight me on that tonight, Maize?”
“No,” I say so quickly, the corners of his mouth turn up in a grin. I bite my lip to hide my own smile, but he can see right through me, see how excited I am, and what’s the point of hiding it? He’s being honest with me, and that’s what I should give in return.
“That’s my girl.” He gives me another little shove, until I’m flat on my back. He stares at me again, the blue in his eyes deepening and sending more quivers through my body. He tears into his pants, the zipper hissing as it releases. A second later, he has his cock in his hand, and I nearly bite off my tongue. “Spread your legs,” he commands and wraps one big palm around his thick cock.
I do as he asks, my breath coming quicker now. “Christian.”
“Yeah?” I want to look at him, to meet his eyes, but I can’t take my focus off the way he’s stroking himself. “Something to say, Maize?”
I wet my lips. “I just…”
“I take it you’ve never seen a man fuck his palm while he admires a gorgeous woman sprawled on his bed.”
Did he just call me gorgeous? I mentally roll my eyes so hard I nearly give myself a headache. Is that what I’m focusing on right now? And really, I’m sure he says that to every girl he’s ever had in this bed.
“I’ve never,” I answer honestly.
“Put your hands down your pants.”
My brain stalls. He can’t be serious. The second I look into his eyes, I know he is. “You see what I’m doing here, Maize.”
“Uh huh.”
“I’ve been doing this every morning in the shower. Fuck, knowing you’re in this bed, all warm and soft and not being able to climb in here and taste you has been total fucking torture.”
“I…I didn’t know.”
“Now you do.” He falls quiet for a moment. “Now touch yourself.”
I take a fast breath, hoping it fills me with bravado as I slide my hand down my stomach. He watches me, his gaze never faltering as I tuck into my yoga pants, and go lower, until my fingers connect with my swollen clit.
“Yes,” I gasp unable to help myself.
“Yeah, just like that,” he murmurs and runs his tongue all over his lips. “Get that pussy all nice and wet for my mouth.”
I gulp and grow wetter as he talks dirty to me. “Christian, please…” I murmur even though I have no idea what I’m begging for.
“Is your pussy wet for me, Maize?” he asks, clearly understanding what I want, judging by his response. I nod and he continues. “Does it want my big fat cock?”
A little eeping sound catches in my throat and he chuckles. “Look at me.”
My lids open, and my gaze goes directly to his cock. It’s big and hard and is probably going to destroy me, but I just don’t care.
“Want to touch me?”
My gaze flies to his, and I take in the question on his lips, the want in his eyes. I nod and sit up. He comes closer, and kicks his pants completely off. I resist the urge to pinch myself as he stands before me completely naked—so goddamn gorgeous I’m sure I won the man lottery. I must have done something right in this lifetime, to be here with him, like this.
He takes my hand, puts it around his cock, and closes his hand over it. “Yeah,” he murmurs as he moves my hand up and down his shaft, squeezing my hand to show me how much pressure he likes. A bit of pre-cum drips from his slit, and unable to help myself, I lean forward and catch it on my tongue.
His entire body goes stiff, every muscle tight, and I straighten. Oh God, did he not like that?
“I…just couldn’t help myself,” I explain quickly. “If you didn’t like—”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me right now.”
His voice is harsh, his eyes brutally hard as he stares at me and I’m about to scurry backward when he captures my hand. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
A thrill goes through me as his breathing changes, becomes labored, like standing now is too much of a chore. It must be, because he drops to his knees, grips my yoga pants and tugs on them. I fall back and lift my hips for him, giving him access to my most private parts. As he pulls my pants down to my ankles, a burst of unease goes through me and I turn toward the lamp.
“It stays on, Maize. I want to see you.”
My lashes flutter, moving as quickly as my heart. “I just…”
“You’re beautiful. Trust me, I don’t lie.”
Liking that he doesn’t lie, and suddenly feeling beautiful—almost worshiped—under his watchful eye, I take in the way they shine with appreciation as he removes my pants, leaving me in my panties. He goes perfectly still and inches back when he sees my less than sexy, white cotton underwear. Oh, God, why am I wearing my everyday white cotton panties that hold zero sex appeal? Not that I’d know sex appeal if it jumped up and bit me in the face.
Oh, because you didn’t know you’d be having sex with a football star.
“I…” Once again, I try to scramble backwards, but he holds my leg and stops me.
“Jesus Christ,” he swears, and slides his hand under the thick white elastic band. “Your panties.”
“I know.” I cover my face, once again wishing I was an ostrich.
“Maize.”
His voice is so deep and hushed, I spread my fingers and peek at him, but he’s not looking at my face. No, he’s admiring my panties, touching the fabric and elastic like they belong on a Victoria’s Secret model.
“Stand up.”
He reaches for my hand, and helps me to my feet. Standing beside me, he hangs on to my arm to stabilize me. “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”
“Not really,” I whisper honestly.
“These panties. You’re killing me, Maize.”
“They’re not lacy or sexy,” I say.
“This is what I want.” He kisses my mouth and puts his hand between my legs, running his fingers over the cotton. “This…so fucking innocent. I want you like this always, every time.”
I gulp again. Does he mean we’re going to do this more than once? God, I hope so.
“You have more of these?”
“Yes.”
He sinks to the floor, presses his mouth to the cotton, and the heat of his breath stimulates my clit. I quiver, and rake my hands in his hair. “Then you should also know, I’m keeping these.” He drags my panties down my hips, and tosses them onto the pile of his clothes.
No man has ever, in my entire life, made me feel the way this one has right now. My entire chest flutters, never having felt so important, so cherished before. I could definitely get used to this, and I don’t even care if he makes every girl feel this way. Right now, I only care about the way he’s admiring me, making me feel so comfortable in my own skin.
“Are you ready?
“Ready?” I ask.
“Ready to give yourself over to me?”