Page 142 of Make the Play

“Mm, you want it?” He drags the tip of his cock over my clit, teasing me with shallow thrusts. “You want this cock again?”

“Yes,” I breathe. “Chase, please—”

“Then take it.”

He slides into me again and I cry out, back arching, hands clawing the sheets as he uses the leverage of my legs to get deeper.

“Fuck,Chase—yes, just like that—”

“Look at those tits,” he groans, biting the inside of my calf. “Bouncin' every time I fuck you. Best view I’ve ever seen.”

I can’t stop moaning at his filthy mouth. I’msoaked, clenching around him with every thrust, my mind slipping further with the way he talks to me.

“You feel how wet you are?” he pants. “Youlovegetting fucked like this, don’t you?”

“God, yes I do. Ilove it—”

He leans down, folding my legs closer to my chest, pinning me in place with his body. His hands grip my thighs hard enough to bruise as he fucks me, owning every inch. The sounds—wet, desperate, relentless—are absurd as the echo around us.

I lose control fast and all I can do is let out a desperate, ragged sound as my eyes flutter shut. Instantly, his hand slides around my throat, thumb stroking the edge of my jaw.

“Eyes on me,” he growls. “Wanna see you come. Wanna watch my perfect girl fall apart on my cock.”

I force my gaze up, breath hitching as he drives deeper. Then his free hand drops between us, and he leans forward to spit on my clit.

I jerk beneath him, a broken mess of sensation as his thumb circles through it.

“Oh myGod, that’s so hot—do it again—”

“You like that?” he pants. “You like when I spit on your pretty pussy and fuck you through it?”

I nod frantically. “Yes! Fuckyes, don’t stop—”

“Not gonna. Not for such a good…fucking… girl."

Each word lands with a thrust, and my vision whites out. I come hard around him, mouth open on a wordless cry. My body convulses, and everything shatters as he continues to fuck me through it.

“That’s it,” he groans. “Mmm, look at you, Zo. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He doesn’t stop until he’s wrung out every last aftershock. Then his rhythm stutters, and he comes with a raw, husky moan. He drops his head to my shoulder, one hand finding mine and threading our fingers together against the sheets.

We stay like that for a moment, tangled and gasping, his body draped over mine. I’m limp. Boneless. Blissed the fuck out.

Eventually, he shifts just enough to press kisses to my neck, my collarbone. Soft and tender and nothing like the filthy menace he was two seconds ago.

I turn my head slightly. “Feeling proud of yourself?”

He breathes out a rough laugh. “You're the one who crawled.”

“Youspat.”

“Want me to apologize?”

“God, no.” I sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “I want you to do it again.”

***

It’s hours later when I wake up, soft and satiated, a warmth once again wrapped around me. A deep, humming satisfaction in my limbs, and a dull, lingering ache between my thighs.

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