Playing Hard: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (21 page)

Riley’s hands are on the insides of my thighs, gently easing them apart — and I let him. I offer no resistance whatsoever. My pussy is throbbing, and the only thing I can think about is how desperately I want him to be touching me.

Once my legs are parted to his satisfaction, he reaches up, pulling at the thong I’m wearing tonight — not the sort of thing I’d usually wear, but the dress doesn’t allow for anything else. At first I think he’s simply going to slide it down my thighs, but then, taking it in his fist, he simply rips it away from my body, the elastic at the hips snapping as if it’s nothing at all.

“H-Hey —” I begin to protest, but that’s as far as I get.

Because then Riley’s mouth is on me.

He’s burying his face in my pussy, and I hear him inhale deeply, even as his tongue touches against my lips.

“Christ, you smell
amazing.
”

I groan, letting my head fall back against the shelves behind me. Riley’s voice is thick with lust, his breath ragged. No one has ever said or done anything like this to me before — no one has ever seemed interested. I’ve always just been dull, uptight Ava Westwood. But the desire in Riley’s voice, his obvious need as he pushes his tongue up against me… the sheer force of his desire makes me even wetter than I am already.

His desire.

For
me.

I groan, trying to be quiet, and let my head loll on my shoulders. Riley seems to have forgotten his own edict that we need to be as quiet as possible, letting out a low groan as his tongue dips inside me. Tasting me.

I clench my hands into fists, feeling my nails cut crescents into my palms as I feel his tongue flicking over my pussy, moving all over me, as if he’s exploring; as if he wants to taste and lick and smell every corner of my body. I’d always read that men didn’t like going down on women, but Riley seems like he can’t get enough of me — he groans as his tongue slides over me, lips mouthing against my slit. Like he
loves
what he’s doing, and it’s giving him pleasure, too. He certainly doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to stop, either, alternating long strokes of his tongue with small, subtle flicks, making my chest heave and knees quake. Everything he’s doing feels so good, in so many different ways. It’s all I can do to stop myself from screaming.

In the end, the only thing I can do is move my hand to the back of his head, trying to draw him even closer to me. I’m trying not to pull his hair, but when he makes one particularly brutal move, I can’t stop myself from curling my fist, yanking on it.

He withdraws slightly and I look down, thinking I’ve hurt him — but when I see his eyes, I realize nothing could be further from the truth.

“Keep doing that,” he mutters, his lips wet and shiny after having been buried in my pussy. “I like it when you do that. Lets me know you’re enjoying it.”

I want to ask him how the fuck could I
not
be enjoying this, but then he puts his mouth back on me, and there’s nothing in my head except
more, yes, please, more.

Pleasure rises in me like a wave, rising and building in strength the more Riley works me over.

I arch my hips forward, reaching toward him, feeling the muscles in my thighs clench and unclench with every move he makes.

“Oh fuck…” I gasp out, digging my fingernails into his scalp, and hearing his corresponding groan.

He pushes me to the edge again and again, until I’m left breathless, wanting,
needing
my release.

“Please, Riley,” I manage to whimper as he rolls his tongue, drawing a long shudder from me that rocks my entire body.

For a moment, I think he’s going to keep teasing me with light touches and flicks of his tongue, but then his hand comes up to the back of my thigh, lifting it over his shoulder and tilting my hips forward, so I’m totally open to his mouth.

I cry out, unable to stop myself — he’s eating me,
devouring
me, his tongue plunging into my body while his upper lip rubs over my clit.

I’ve
never
felt anything like this before. I lean back, my free hand gripping the shelf behind me for balance, while the other takes a handful of Riley’s hair, pulling.

My hips buck forward against him, his mouth hot and wet between my thighs, tongue utterly relentless. He’s fucking me with it, pushing it up inside me, finding the root of every nerve.

I know I’m gasping, whimpering,
sobbing
, but I can’t stop myself. All I can do is hold on, try to simply ride out the crashing waves of pleasure that Riley is sending through my body. I can feel them building inside me, stronger and more intense than anything I’ve ever felt before in my life.

But even through all of that, the thought is steady in my head:
And all of this, only with his
tongue….

I arch my back, my lips parting as Riley moves his mouth over me, drawing out a groan that starts in my toes and drags its way up through my entire body. I never want this to end, I never want to stop feeling this way, I never want Riley to stop….

… But even as this thought rises in my head, I suddenly feel my pleasure peak, and I’m sent tumbling over the edge and into wave after wave of bliss. I cry out sharply, my whole body shaking, my knee cinching onto Riley’s shoulder, fingers clutching at his head.

I don’t know how long it takes me to coast down from the height of my pleasure, or when I become aware of anything except the aftershocks that tingle over my skin, and my own heartbeat sounding thunderously in my ears.

Gently, Riley eases my leg down off his shoulder and stands, letting the hem of my dress fall back down to the ground, his fingers skimming over my sides. I shudder lightly, and then he’s kissing me, the tongue that had until moments ago been lodged inside my pussy now desperately seeking out every corner of my mouth. I can taste myself on his lips and I know I should be grossed out by that, but I just can’t be — it’s a reminder of what happened, of how hungrily he devoured me. He’s so hungry for me that he can’t even stop to wipe his lips before he claims my mouth the same way he claimed my pussy.

His kisses are long and languid, and I’m content to simply lean against him, my knees still weak from the force of my climax, and let him kiss me.

When he finally pulls back he looks me in the eye, and for the first time this evening, he doesn’t look smug or affected in any way.

“That was… I mean…
wow…
” I manage to stutter, as he runs his fingers lightly up my spine.

“I know,” he replies, laughing. “One, I’m good at doing that. Two, I could hardly miss it, with all that noise you made.”

I bite my lip, glancing nervously around his shoulder.

“Do you think anyone heard us?”

Riley shrugs. “Possibly.”

“Oh my God,” I mutter, suddenly feeling fear rising within me. “Do you… do you think they
know?
”

“How could they? No one came in here, and even if they heard anything, they wouldn’t know who’s in here. They’d just figure it was someone banging in a closet, and not disturb them.”

I stare up at him, mildly incredulous. “What?”

“Don’t you ever go to a party, and go to open a door, hear the sound of people fucking inside and just turn around and walk away?”

“Uh,
no
,” I tell him. “And in any case, this is a charity event, not a frat party.”

“Oh, please,” Riley says. “Half the waiters here are Blaketon students. I guarantee you they go to parties all the time where it’s just normal. Even if
you
don’t.”

  “But —” I start to say, before Riley plants his lips on mine again, silencing me.

“But nothing,” he says. “No one knows. And even if they suspect, no one knows for
real
. C’mon, isn’t this exactly what Murray would want? Blaketon U’s hottest new couple unable to go one full dinner without sneaking away to grope each other?”

I giggle. I can’t help myself. Then I look up at Riley through my eyelashes.

“Well,
I
didn’t grope
you
…” I tell him, hardly able to believe my own daring.

Riley gives me a heated look. Then he reaches out, taking my hand and guiding it between his legs.

I gasp as I feel him — he’s still hot and hard as steel, maintaining his erection the whole time he’d been going down on me. I bite my lip, eyes wide open and staring into his as I run my hand over him experimentally, feeling his length and thickness.

“It’s… it’s so…”

“Magnificent?” Riley suggests, his lips quirking in a smile. “Majestic? Awe-inspiring?”

“You’re incorrigible,” I say, trying to sound exasperated, but yeah, any and all of those apply.

And despite the fact I just came, I can feel myself getting wet all over again, wondering what it would be like to have that magnificent, majestic, awe-inspiring cock buried inside me.

“Have you… been like this the whole time?” I ask him, giving him a light squeeze through his tuxedo pants, and watching as he grimaces slightly in response.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice a little breathy. “I told you — I fucking
love
going down on a chick, and I’m good at it. Those noises you made were hot as hell.”

I lick my lips, trying not to feel embarrassed at how loud I was.

“Really?” I ask.

“Truly,” Riley says.

I keep moving my hand over him slowly, until he takes my wrist, moving it away.

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to have to ask you for some follow-up,” he says. “And as much as I’d like that, we’re probably being missed at dinner.”

I lick my lips, swallowing hard. I look Riley in the eye, and then I come to a truly irresponsible decision.

“Fuck dinner,” I tell him. “Let’s get out of here.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

RILEY

The privacy screen in the limo is up and stays that way until we arrive back at Ava’s apartment — which is just as well, considering we’ve been going at it like cats and dogs for the entire journey.

This isn’t the Ava I’ve gotten to know over the past few weeks: the uptight, stand-offish, snobby girl I thought she was.
This
Ava is anything but.
This
Ava is the wildcat I’d always glimpsed just below the surface, whenever she’d relaxed her iron control even for a moment. It’s part of the reason I’ve loved riling her up during this time — it might drive her crazy, but it was always a chance to see the real Ava, the Ava who wasn’t buried under her dedication to
doing the right thing.

This Ava is perfectly happy to lie in the back of a limousine with me as it speeds through town, her lips locked onto mine, her dress riding high over her thighs, allowing me quick glimpses of her pussy when she spreads her legs to change position. This Ava runs her fingers through my hair and claws at my back as I press my fingers into her, my thumb gliding over her clit. This Ava squeezes my hard cock through the front of my pants, eyes widening a little as she realizes again just how massive and hard I am — hard for
her.

There’s nothing I’d like more than to simply flip her onto her back, part her legs and take her, here, now, in the back of this car. But the irritating knowledge that she’s a virgin won’t leave my head, and I know that I should take things slower. If she were any of the other girls I’ve ever fucked, I’d already be balls deep in her right now. But I don’t want to take her virginity this way. Not until I’m sure it’s what she wants.

Not until she’s begging for it
.

The idea hadn’t entered my head before, but now it’s there it won’t leave. It has to be her choice. But that doesn’t mean she’ll get what she wants right away.

I mean, heaven forbid she thinks I’m easy.

But I
do
want to be sure. I’ve never taken anyone’s virginity before. Ironically, it’ll be a first for me too.

And, well… honestly, the thought of Ava begging me for
anything
is kind of a turn on.

Her teeth tug on my lips as we pull away from each other to get out of the limo.

I want to grab her ass and grind up against her as we make our way up the front steps and through the door, but I manage to restrain myself — the huge boner I have tenting the front of my tux is obvious enough without drawing even more attention to ourselves. Fuck knows if the driver suspects anything. Ava’s usually so cautious, so maybe those privacy screens really are sound-proof, and there really isn’t any way for the driver to spy on you without your notice.

Ava fumbles with the key for her apartment.

“Hurry up,” I breathe into her ear, sliding my hands over her hips, curling my fingers over the front of her thighs, my thumbs caressing her mound through the fabric of her dress. I feel her shudder against me, and
finally
she manages to shove the key in the lock, pushing the door open.

“Shhh,” she whispers, half-turning to put her fingers on my lips. “Darcey might be here.”

“Would Darcey say anything?”

Ava shakes her head. “No. But that doesn’t mean I want her to walk in on us fuck—uh… I mean… not
fucking
… just….”

She blinks, looking confused.

Okay.

She still seems a little uncertain about going all the way tonight. And as I said, I’m not going there with her until I
know
she wants it.

And there’s other ways I can cure my currently severe case of blue balls.

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “I get it.”

She flashes me a grateful smile. Then she takes my hand, and leads me through the house and up the stairs to her room.

It’s still as neat as it was the first time I was in here — not a book out of place, no clothes strewn across the floor. There’s not even a dirty plate or cup on the table or floor. It couldn’t be more different from my room if she tried. I mean, of course she probably has a maid or some shit. Ordinarily, this would be the perfect opportunity for me to get pissy about Ava’s life of privilege, but just at this moment, I could not give less of a shit.

Not when Ava’s lips are on mine again the second she closes her bedroom door, her arms around my shoulders, her breasts pushed against my chest.

I’m
definitely
going to have to pay extra for cleaning for this rental tux. 

I grind my hips forward, letting her feel every hard inch of me against her stomach as she kisses me.

Ava pulls back with a slight gasp, her eyes wide.

“I — uh — I’ve never —”

“Given a blow job?” I prompt her when she trails off into silence, and watch as she flushes a little.

“Yeah,” she says. “I mean, no. I haven’t. But… but after what you did for me…”

My cock twitches at the thought of being wrapped in her luscious mouth. There’s nothing I want more than to look down and see Ava’s lips around me, feel her tongue sliding against my long, hard shaft.

But it has to be on her terms. I’m not giving her another reason to be pissy at me.

“It wasn’t a tit-for-tat situation.”

She nods. “I know. But… I
want
to. You said you liked doing it. I want to try it.”

My dick is throbbing now. I feel like I’m going to explode if I don’t come soon — I’ve been in varying states of hardness since we started kissing in the closet. This has to be some kind of world record.

I say nothing, though, letting her make her own move.

Looking me in the eyes, she slowly moves her hand down my chest, before fumbling at the fly of my tux. She pulls my pants down and my boxers with them, before she glances down to look.

I hear her sharp intake of breath.

I don’t blame her — I realize I’m impressive. To most girls, that’s a definite plus. But for a virgin who’s not used to such things….

… Okay, maybe it’s a little intimidating.

To take her mind off it, I take her chin between my fingers and lift her head to kiss her again, my tongue pressing against hers, kissing away her doubts. I move my hands up her body, circling her nipples with my thumbs, making her shudder.

I feel her hand on my dick, her fingers wrapped around it, before slowly they begin to run up and down over the shaft. I groan into her mouth as her hand works, slowly at first, but with growing confidence.

I groan again to let her know what she’s doing is good. But by this stage I’ve wanted her for so long that anything she could do would be good. She could laugh at me and walk out of the room right now and I’d probably follow her, pants around my ankles, begging her to finish what she started.

That’s
how crazy this girl makes me.

She draws her hand up along my hard cock, and her thumb circles lightly over the head, smearing the pre-come that has started to gather there. I shudder.

“That’s so good,” I whisper, pulling away from her lips a little. “God, you make me feel so fucking good.”

Ava looks up at me as if surprised by what I’m saying, drawing her lip in between her teeth. Her hand is working a little faster now, and I can feel my balls clench, ready to explode.

“Oh God,
Ava….
”

“I want to suck you,” she says, her voice quiet but determined. “I want to
taste
you.”

In terms of dirty talk, it’s probably one of the most innocent things anyone has ever said to me, but for some reason her words go straight to my dick, sending sparks of pleasure through my body, settling at the base of my spine.

I groan and throw my head back as she starts to bend her knees in front of me, her fingers resting at the base of my cock. My whole body throbs, desperate to feel her lips against me.

I look down to find her kneeling in front of me, looking up at me as she holds my dick in her pale fingers. Still looking me in the eye, she slides her tongue out from between her lips and slowly runs it along the underside of my cock, from base to tip. I groan, resisting the urge to thrust my hips, as she slowly runs her tongue over the head, licking at the pre-come that leaks from the slit.

“Oh,
fuck….
”

In the next second, her mouth is on me, her lips sliding down over my shaft, enveloping it in the wet heat of her mouth. I groan again, looking down at the perfection of her cupid’s bow lips wrapped around my cock, a few strands of dark hair curling down around the white oval of her face.

I’ve imagined her having me in her mouth countless times over the past few weeks. But somehow, I never imagined it would feel
this
good. I mean, I imagined plenty, but this…
this
is something else. The way she looks up at me, as if to gauge whether she’s doing things right, the way her tongue moves along the underside of my shaft, the small movements of her throat as she tries to accommodate even more of my length….

…
All
of it is mind-blowing.

The first thought I had tonight when I saw her was that she looked like a Greek goddess, with her long dress and dark ringlets around her face.

And now, that goddess is on her knees in front of me. Sucking me off.

I’m so close to the edge already that I have to hold myself back from just coming straight down her throat. I’ve never had this problem before, with anyone else — I’ve never needed to come so fast in my life.

“God, that’s so good,” I groan, encouraging her.

She pulls back, dragging her lips back along my shaft, before running her tongue over the tip again, lapping at the now copious pre-come that’s gathering there. Her hand works up and down over me as she twirls her tongue, delving lightly into the slit. Her lips are swollen and red from being kissed and now from sucking me, her tongue pretty and pink and driving me crazy.

“Fuck, Ava,” I gasp, my hips jerking convulsively. I feel my cock twitch in her palm, my balls drawing up tight. I’m going to fucking explode all over her face, and there’s nothing I can do about it. She’s just too hot.
I’m
just too hot for her. “I swear, I’m gonna —”

“Do it,” she whispers, but it sounds like a roar in my ears. Her hand hasn’t let up, giving me long, even strokes. Her tongue slides back over the throbbing head of my cock, and that’s all it takes.

I feel my balls clench tight, and then I’m coming like a tidal wave, coating her lips and chin until it’s dripping from her face and down onto her throat and breasts. Her hand just keeps on rubbing me until I’m completely spent, shudders running the full length of my spine, light blooming behind my eyelids.

Fuck
.

Maybe it’s the length of time I had to wait for it, but coming has never felt that good before, or that intense. It’s like opening a window and letting the sunshine into a dark room. I can’t even think straight, it’s that fucking good.

And then there’s Ava.

Still kneeling in front of me, spattered in my come. Licking it off her lips like she can’t get enough of the taste.

The hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

I put my hands on her shoulders, pulling her up to me, and kiss her.

Some guys won’t kiss a girl after she’s sucked him off, saying it’s gay to taste your own come or something, but that’s stupid — does touching your own dick make you gay too? — and I don’t care And even if I did, Ava looks too goddamn good for me not to kiss her right now.

I feel her wriggle against me a little as we kiss, and I pull back, wondering what she’s doing, before realizing she’s shimmying out of her long dress. She’s not wearing a bra — I guess it’d be kind of hard with that one-shouldered thing — and I already took care of her panties back at the hotel. Ava stands in front of me, naked except for her stockings and high heels, her hair and makeup messed up, and come still wet on her face and neck.

She looks filthy, and she looks
hot.

My dick is already stirring back to life, despite the milking it just got from her mouth and hand.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter.

Everything about her is perfect. From the top of her head, to the perfect handful perkiness of her tits, over the arch of her hips, and down her long, long legs. 

This girl is going to be the death of me.

Ava fidgets a little, crossing her arm over her belly as if she’s embarrassed.

“I — I mean —” she starts to say, but I don’t let her finish. My lips are back on hers, my hands roaming her body, filling my palms with those utterly perfect breasts, feeling her peaking nipples against my fingertips.

She feels so good in my hands that I never want to stop touching her.

Even as I’m totally consumed by the taste and feel of her, it runs through my mind that this is the first time I’ve ever thought that about a girl. Usually when I’m in bed with one, I always know this’ll be it. We’ll wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am each other for as long as we’re having a good time, and then leave it at that. Maybe we’ll hook up again sometime if we’re both horny and at the same party. But I could always take it or leave it — there were plenty of other girls who’d be happy to take her place.