Page 41 of Hot Receiver

Matt

I’m not prepared for the rush of carnal need that crashes over me when Zak shoves me onto his couch and climbs on top of me. He dips his head, capturing my lips in a kiss so deep, so desperate, and so intense, I could come from the fucking rapture alone.

His mouth brutalizes me, devouring my moans, infusing me with heat to the point where I think I might spontaneously combust right here. Sparks shoot straight to my groin, my cock aching to explode out of my pants. I run my hands down the sides of his torso, digging my fingers into his hips as he grinds his cock against mine.

I yelp when he tugs my hair, pulling it hard so he can lick a path down the side of my neck. He pulls at the collar of my t-shirt, yanking it down before capturing my nipple in his teeth. He nips, suckles, and torments me more and more with every passing second. Fuck, I need this so badly. It’s like he’s transformed into a vicious beast, unleashing all his latent anger on me with his rough touch and brutal kisses. Tingles explodeover my skin where he bites and sucks his way through the bottled-up rage.

I can only hope there’s an endless supply of it because this is the only thing on Earth that can bring me peace, and I can’t be without it anymore.

Zak pulls away only to yank my t-shirt over my head. He tosses it to the floor and lowers his head to trace the outline of my tattoos with his demanding tongue. I shift against him, craving the friction it creates between us. My breaths are sharp and shallow because I don’t have enough time to suck down oxygen before he crushes his mouth against me again.

And shockingly, that’s when I realize the only time I can breathe freely is when his hot and hungry tongue is in my mouth, coiling with mine. It’s like every nerve and cell are flipped on like light switches, bright, alive, and glowing. Every kiss, every look, every touch is like a resurrection of the man I was when we were together.

I felt safe, accepted, and loved. But it wasn’t enough to stifle the fear that lurked in the dark corners of my mind, the fear that drove me to do things I still regret to this day.

After his injury and departure from the team, I died a little inside. My heart, my soul. Blackened with shame and guilt and loss. Football wasn’t enough to heal me.

Only Zak could do that.

Except I cut him loose to save myself, shattering both of our hearts in the process.

“Make me feel everything you feel,” I rasp, grabbing him by the sides of his face.

His dark eyes glow with intent, and he back away from me, rising up from the couch while I lay there panting like I’ve just run suicides. He lowers himself to his knees, leans forward to loop his fingers into my sweatpants and boxer briefs, and pulls them to my ankles. Then he runs his hands up and down mytense quads, kneading the muscles. His eyes glitter with deviance and desire as he takes my cock into his mouth.

A loud gasp escapes me when he leans down to take me deep into his throat. He doesn’t start slow, and there’s nothing gentle about his technique. He exudes power and control, holding each over me like a whip.

Whip…

Shit, I wonder if he’s got any of those things here.

I press the top of his head down, forcing him to bob hard on my cock. Every time he deep throats me, I thrust against his mouth. Fuck, it’s so hot and wet. White noise fills my ears, lust floods my veins. My balls scream for release, blood racing to my cock.

I’m close. So fucking close. Just a few more seconds and?—

Zak sits back on his heels, my cock slipping from his mouth with a loud pop.

An evil smirk lifts his lips.

“You fucking cocksucker.”

“No. I’m anamazingcocksucker.”

My heart thunders so hard, I can barely hear my words over the fierce pounding. “That’s your revenge plan? Edge play?”

“I didn’t think of it before, but it’s pretty damn satisfying.” His grin widens. “For me.”

“You’re an evil bastard. I fucking hate you.”

“Good. That’s what I want you to feel.” Zak’s eyebrows knit together as he rises to his feet. “Exactly what you asked for.”

Goddammit. Blue balls suck. Frustration bubbles in my gut. I grab my cock and stroke it, never moving my eyes from his face. Then I lick the fingers of my free hand, a matching smile lifting my own lips.

Fuck him if he thinks he’s the only one who can play.

I rim my asshole and press two fingers into the tightring of muscle. It feels good, but I’m more interested in what it’s doing to Zak. He stares at me, his jaw tense. Then, his hand drops to his shorts. He reaches into the waistband and grabs his own cock, tugging it out so I can see.

My mouth waters at the sight of it. I alternate between riding my fingers and my hand. I clench tight, still feeling the burn of his cock tearing into me like a savage in the stairwell. I love the feeling of his thick cock stretching me, driving into me like a man possessed, like it’s the only thing that can unravel him.

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