Page 196 of The Coach

“Right. You wouldn’t want to be tense for game day tomorrow.”

“No. That would be bad.”

“You’ve been so good to me, Jackson. I think it’s time I do something for you.”

I sink to my knees, eyes locked onto Jackson’s as my fingers skim down his chest.

His jaw clenches.

“Fuck, Ivy.” His voice is rough, dangerous.

I smile innocently, dragging my hands lower, over his abs, watching the way his breath hitches.

“I just want to take care of you,” I say. “You’ve been so good to me.”

Jackson’s hands tangle in my hair, his chest rising and falling as he watches me unbuckle his belt.

His cock is already rock hard, straining against his briefs.

I glance up at him, teasing, before curling my fingers under the waistband and dragging them down.

And then?

Goddamn.

He’s so thick, so big, and my mouth waters.

Jackson groans, gripping my hair a little tighter. “You gonna keep teasing me, baby? Or are you gonna?—”

I lick a slow stripe up his length.

His breath punches out. “Fuck.”

I swirl my tongue around the tip, dragging my nails lightly down his thighs.

Jackson mutters a curse, his hands flexing against my scalp.

Then, I take him deeper.

His head tips back, his abs flexing. “Christ, Ivy. You look so fucking good like this.”

I moan softly around him, and his hips jerk forward, like he can’t help himself.

I love the feeling of controlling his pleasure.

How fucking wrecked I can make him.

I take him deeper, hollowing my cheeks, working him with slow, steady strokes.

Jackson groans, his grip tightening. “That’s it, baby. Take me deeper. Just like that.”

I do.

Until he’s hitting the back of my throat, until my jaw aches in the best way.

And then?

Then, he loses control.

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