Page 41 of Trick Play
Somehow that makes me ache even more.
I let out a low moan of distress, grinding on his dick harder, trying to jerk my hips back to plunge his finger inside me.
But his hands prevent me from moving enough to do that, and he lifts his head, his cocky grin wiped from his face. “You ready for me, baby? You ride me, then you can set the pace, alright?”
At my nod, he leans down and grabs another condom from the strip he brought with him. When I first saw it, I figured he’d probably overestimated his stamina, and now I think he might’ve overestimated mine.
I scoot back on his thighs, freeing his cock so he can roll on the condom, but he surprises me by reaching between my legs first, his finger circling my opening again before slipping inside me, drawing out and spreading my wetness all around. He does it again and again until I’m grinding on his hand, and when he pulls away at last, he rubs my juices all over his cockhead, then rolls the condom on. “We want to be all nice and juicy if we’re taking it slow and easy this time,” he whispers.
Then his hands are on my hips again, and he’s pulling me forward, sealing his lips to mine. I rise up, and he drags the head of his cock all over my slippery cunt until the head notches in my opening. With matching groans, I slide down his length, slow, slow, so slow. Agonizingly slow as he stretches my already aching tissues yet again.
It’s sharp and sweet and almost unbearable, and I’m glad that I’m in control right now. I pause when I’m fully impaled, sucking his tongue, gripping his neck, enjoying the way his hands still roam my body. He’s touched me literally everywhere today, and he still can’t stop touching me.
I’ve never had a guy seem this crazy over me before. Sure, I’ve had chemistry where it felt like we couldn’t get enough of each other, but it wasn’t like this, where we’ve been naked and touching for literal hours today and each touch still feels like we’re covering uncharted territory. Like he’s starving for my skin.
Not just sex. Not just skin. Butmyskin. Sex withme, specifically.
Having this effect on someone is heady and intoxicating, and it’s almost enough to make me lose sight of what’s important.
Almost.
Because as delicious as this is, it can’t last. There’s no way. Something this intense has to burn out quickly.
And despite asking to see me again, I’m under no illusion that this is some kind of serious thing for Cal. This is casual. We have crazy chemistry. We both get some stress relief out of it. So I might as well have fun.
And as nuts as it sounds, after Monday night, I was able to focus better after I got home, and writing my paper yesterday was a breeze.
So if some recreational sex makes studying easier, I’d be stupid to turn it down.
“You think too much,” Cal mutters against my lips. “It’s not time to think right now.” One of those big hands slides down my spine, kneading my ass. “It’s time to feel.”
He thrusts up into me, slow and easy, and I roll my hips in response.
He’s right. I do think too much. Especially the last few months.
That’s why being with him is so nice. I don’t have to think so hard. I just have to do and be and feel.
When my orgasm hits, it’s the lapping of a gentle wave, rather than the overwhelming surge of a tsunami. And I’m grateful for the lessened intensity, especially since Cal’s not there yet, though I can tell he’s getting close.
Despite his promises to be gentle, his thrusts get harder, faster, even from below, and his grip on my hips turns almost harsh.
But I don’t care anymore. I want to watch him find his release, knowing he got that pleasure from my body. That I’m the one with this power over him. Maybe not forever, but for now.
And right now, that’s enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Cal
I’m not used to this antsy feeling creeping over me on Sunday night. It’s been days since I’ve been inside Piper, not since Wednesday’s marathon in her dorm room, and I’m getting withdrawals or something. I can’t remember ever feeling this way about a girl before. It’s more than just general horniness, because my desire is specifically for Piper. No one else holds any appeal. And I kinda resent the fact that I haven’t seen her in four days, because apparently Thursdays are always out, and it’s not like I can change my football schedule.
I’m home—somewhat recuperated—and Ellie sleeping over with Simon for the week certainly doesn’t help my mood. I mean, I can’t blame Ellie, really. Or Simon. They want to be together. I get it. But it only serves to highlight that I can’t see Piper as often as I want to. And that would be every damn day if I could make it happen. Hell, if I could have her stay over, I would. But I know better than to ask. She’s made it clear that she wants to keep me at arm’s length, even if that drives me fucking crazy. Plus, it’s ridiculous to be this hung up on her already given we’ve only been on one actual date.
Which is fine. I mean, it’s not. But it’s fine. We’ll get there. Hopefully. Maybe.
Or not.
But having Ellie all up in my space nonstop making googly eyes at my roommate, and what’s worse, him doing the same thing back? I need to get away from here. And it’s only day one. I’m not sure how I’m going to make it until this weekend when we’ll be in Colorado. Of course that’ll put me back in this same place of feeling antsy without Piper.
