Page 31 of Mister Rival

I slide down, my eyes squeezing shut as his fat cock fills me. He’s so damn big. I feel every ridge, every vein,everything.“Oh, my God.”

“You like it, don’t you?” His voice is strangled, barely contained.

“Being in charge? Or your fat cock?”

He chuckles. “Both.”

“Now that sounds promising.”

“Wanna do you on my boardroom table.”

“Don’t get cocky,Lucas.We both know I’ll nail your ass if you even try anything to get the upper hand.”

“Still,” he groans when I slide up, murderously slow. “I think you like having me boss you around in the bedroom.”

“Really?” I slam down and he groans, gripping my hips tighter.“Funny how you say that when you're flat on your back.”

“You drive me fucking crazy.”

I repeat my movements, so slowly, as he rests both arms behind his head. “You need to be taught a lesson,Lucas.”

“Oh, yeah? And what’s the lesson, baby?”

I lift off, then slam down again as he hisses. “You can’t win all the time.”

He sits up, his mouth on mine as I yelp, his hands are all over my body as his tongue invades my mouth, leaving me breathless. “So ride me like you mean it. Fuck me. Show me no mercy.”

Oh, his words.

I squeeze him between my legs as I slide up and down, my movements faster this time. I shove him back down and he lands on his back with a smirk on his face. I cup my breasts and he reaches up, holding them against my palms as I ride him.

“Fuck, yeah. You look so hot.” His words are strained as I bounce. He trails my skin with his hands, feeling every inch of me. One hand rests on my hip, helping me ride him harder, the other reaches between my legs.

“Oh, Tris!”

He plays with my clit, brushing it so lightly that I see stars. I need more, and I think he knows that. Damn bastard probably wants me to beg, and it’s not beneath me.

“More, please,” I cry.

I’m rewarded with his grin as he bites down on his bottom lip, pleasure written all over his face. “Fuck, baby, feels so tight with nothing between us. You feel fucking amazing.” He grits his teeth and it turns me on that I do this to him. That I can make the great, almighty Tristan Lucas fall apart.

“Tris,” I moan, my head tipping back as I start to fall apart. His barely there fingers working magically between my legs, making me want more. “Right there.”

I bounce down on him hard as he growls, and that’s all it takes. I fall apart, as he grips my hip harder, his ass lifting off the bed as he spills inside me. Hot bursts of cum flood me as Tristan calls my name over and over. And it sounds oh, so good.

Was that just me, or was that the orgasm of the century?

I collapse into his arms, panting like I just ran a marathon, and he’s not much better.

“Holy shit,” he mutters into my hair as we struggle to find air. “What are you doing to me?”

I’m not trying to do anything, but I feel it. I know I’m falling for him, and right now I don’t know if it’s just the champagne talking, or if it’s something more.

I don’t want things to go back to how they were; us snarking at one another and him being a dick. But now I can see through all that bravado. We have always had a spark, we just decided to act like fools instead of coming together in a more productive way. Like this.

Could we be more?

I can’t do the sex with benefits, or whatever it is the younger generation calls it. It’s not like we’re friends.Situationship?Yeah, something like that.

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