Page 45 of The Fly-Half

My body tensed in his arms and I cried out in filthy ecstasy as my orgasm swept through me, cum painting his fingers and the floor as my cock pulsed in his hand. Jonny groaned, whispering delighted, awestruck words into my ear in that decadent rumble that drew my pleasure out. He was still fucking my thighs, slamming into me, each thrust punctuated by hungry words telling me how perfect I was, how pretty I was, how he loved watching me make a mess for him.

How much he wanted to make a mess of me too.

His fingers dug deeper into my waist, so tight I wondered if they’d bruise as he nipped my ear, the pace of his thrusts faltering as he chased his release. And with a final brutal slam of his hips he came, growling out my name and slicking my inner thighs with his release, his breath coming in deep pants that echoed around the empty room.

I lifted my head and looked at the pair of us in the mirror, which I’d almost completely forgotten about. If I’d thought I looked debauched before, it was nothing compared to now. I almost wanted to take a photo.

“Let me take those,” Jonny said as he gently pulled his boxers out of my mouth, wiping the cum on his hand across the wet fabric. “How’s your jaw? Sore?”

“Not really,” I said, wiggling my jaw to see how it felt as Jonny slowly released me and bent down to clean his cum from my thighs using his wet, stained boxers. “I probably need another shower.” I spread my legs a little wider as he carefully wiped them and bent down to clean the rest off of the floor. “That was amazing, though.”

“Good, I’m glad you liked it.” He stood up and leant in for a kiss, teasing my lips softly. “I like making you come for me.” I groaned under my breath, my fingers finding his hair and sinking into it but he pulled away before I could get more of whatI wanted. “Later, angel. Let’s get out of here first before Clive finds us and we have to explain what we were doing.”

I snorted and stole another kiss. “You’re coming back to mine, right?”

Jonny smiled and kissed me again. “Wasn’t planning on going anywhere else.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Jonny

Another Saturday,another match on a churned-up, muddy rugby pitch. But at least today it wasn’t pouring with rain, so I supposed I should have been grateful for small mercies even if I was pretty sure mud had made its way into my ass crack.

We were up by thirty-seven points to twelve and well into the second half, so it felt like we could take our foot off the pedal a little, as long as we didn’t let them pull things back and take the win out from under us. We needed the four points for the win, although we were already guaranteed a bonus point for scoring four tries in the match.

The ball was moving fast across the pitch again with us firmly in the driving seat, Devon completely controlling the flow of play. As fly-half, his role in the team was really to step up and help push us further. He was second only to Matty, although there were times when Devon would take over, and every day I saw him becoming more confident in that role.

The only problem was as fly-half, he was a walking target.

I snapped my head around as the ball came flying towards me, looking for the next pass to keep pressing further up the pitch. Coventry’s defences were crumbling again and the hunger for another try burned inside me. It wasn’t usually me who scored them, but the team was everything in rugby and our desire for more was one that united us.

Ollie was not far from me and an easy pass, but their defence were already trying to close the gaps and take down everyone who touched the ball. It was less skill and more desperation, their exhaustion wearing heavy on their bodies as they swore and shouted at each other to move, the desperate yelling of the away crowd echoing around us.

I’d barely let the ball out of my hands when two bodies slammed into me, one around my ribs and one around my thighs, sending me crashing to the floor, the ground shaking beneath us. One of their boots raked across my ankle and someone’s knee crashed into the side of my head, their leg scraping across my face as they landed on top of me.

My ear was hot and my jaw ached, and I was pretty sure I could feel blood trickling down the side of my face. I didn’t give a shit, though—it was all part of the game. As long as my ear wasn’t totally torn open, I’d live.

“You all right, mate?” someone asked as the bodies lifted off me, a hand patting my thigh to tell me it was safe to get up.

The whole thing had been barely a minute of play, but that was rugby. You passed, you ran, you hit the deck, you got up, and you kept fucking pushing until you scored or until the ref blew his whistle. It was violent and passionate and beautiful all at once, and there was nothing else like it.

As I climbed to my feet, I looked around to find out where we were and caught sight of Devon, a little further out of the pack but perfectly placed to catch the ball. And as soon as he did, he set off, hands already moving as he went to pass the ball, but allI could see was the wall of muscle moving towards him, arms outstretched.

Devon hit the floor with a crunch as muscle and bone collided, and a howl tore itself loose from my throat as I watched him go down, buried under a man mountain.

My legs carried me towards him, adrenaline pulsing through my veins as a haze descended until all I could see was red.

How dare they touch him?

“Fucking get off him,” I yelled as my fingers found the collar of someone’s shirt, hauling him up and off Devon and shoving him onto the ground. Another one of the guys who’d tackled him had already moved, but there was still one pinning Devon down, and underneath him I could see my angel sprawled out, his arm still wrapped around the ball and his head tucked in to protect his face.

“Get your ass off him,” I said with a growl as I reached for the one still on Devon’s back, fully prepared to drag him to the touchline and throw him off the pitch.

“Whoa, whoa,” Mason said, putting his hand across my chest and jolting me back to myself. “He’s okay. He’s all right.”

My breath caught in my chest, my head spinning slightly as Mason grabbed my shoulder, his fingers digging in and grounding me. The game had stopped and more people were gathering around us as the final player moved, leaving Devon alone.

At first I wasn’t sure he was even breathing, but my blood was pounding so loudly it was difficult to focus on anything else. “Dev,” I called, pulling away from Mason to drop down beside him. “You with me?”

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