Page 104 of Puck Me Secretly

“You’re such a hot little bitch,” he breathed hard.

“Shut up and fuck me like you mean it.”

He responded by ramming me with intensity. My body responded by clenching around him. We were raw. Relentless. Exquisitely primal.

I fought my orgasm. Tried to slow it down, but it was like trying to stop a train with a feather.

“Come on my cock,” he breathed hard. “Come all over my hot cock.”

My body stiffened and arched back against him.

His big hand covered my mouth muffling the scream that ripped out of my throat.

I bucked against his imprisoning embrace as my world shattered around me. I writhed hard, swimming in sensation. Wave after wave of wicked lust threatened to drown me.

“I’m coming,” he gritted his teeth, and then he crushed me to him. He buried himself high into me. My core pulsed, milking him as he jerked again and again against me. I could feel his release as it streamed, hot and deep inside of me.

We didn’t move.Except for our hard breathing. I felt him twitch inside me. My body responded by tightening around his girth. Not wanting to let go of him. Not wanting him to leave my body.

Our eyes met in the mirror. His face was still a mask of savage desire. He winced as he pulled out of me. I straightened up to stand on shaking legs. My entire body trembled like a leaf. It surprised me that I could still stand. My bones had melted. My world was slowly spinning backwards on its axis.

He stepped back from me. I spun around, clutched the dresser behind me and watched as he tucked his still hard cock back into hisjeans. He was dressed, shoes and all and I was naked, a hot mess, with his hot cum dripping down my thighs.

If he walked out after this, I would not survive.

“Are you okay?” his voice was low, his eyes avoiding my face.

I nodded.

I watched as he moved to pick my robe up off the floor. He held it up for me, so I could slide my arms in. Then he tied it around my waist.

Our eyes met. His gaze full of lust, shame and regret.

I started to speak, but the shrill ring of his phone interrupted me. He glanced down at his phone. “It’s Baxter.”

“Answer it.”

With reluctance he took the call. “Logan….yup….was out for a walk. On my way upstairs now.”

He clicked his phone off. “Crew check.”

The Wolves had a loosely upheld curfew for players when they were on the road. Apparently, tonight, Baxter was holding the players to their curfew. Typical bastard move on Baxter’s part.

“You need to go.”

“We have to talk.”

“The fine you’d get is not worth it. Go.”

I could see him internally debate.

“Go,” I stepped forward and pushed on his chest. “Do not give Baxter any ammunition.”

With reluctance, he took a step backwards. “This conversation isn’t over.”

“You’ve got three minutes. Don’t give him reason to fine you.”

With one last, hard-to-read look, he left.

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