Page 68 of Scoring the Player
“Mmmm?” I drop my head to kiss her collarbone.
Instead of replying, her delicate fingers slip under my T-shirt and hover just above the button of my jeans. If I shifted even an inch, she’d be palming my cock. My abs tighten and it’s hard to breathe. Some guy with way more restraint than me, murmurs, “Turn around.”
“What?” Her gaze darts to mine and a little of that uncertainty creeps in.
“On your other side.” I help move her so she’s facing the wall and I spoon her from behind. She holds herself rigid, still unsure, but as soon as I slide my fingers up the front of her tank top she sinks into my touch.
“I’ve been dying to touch these all night,” I say as I cover one breast with my palm and squeeze.
She arches her back, pressing herself into my hand.
“That feel good?”
She nods frantically.
“Let me hear you, hot stuff.” I need her words to ground me in this moment. Plus, some part of my ego loves knowing she wants me. Her want feels different than other girls I’ve hooked up with. Better, more genuine somehow.
“It feels so good,” she says.
I tweak a nipple, rolling it between my thumb and finger, and press my lips to her shoulder. She moans and tries to push back into my dick again. I’m a bump and a rub away from coming, so I slide my hand down her stomach and cup her pussy through her shorts.
Her body stills and then shudders. “Oh, god.”
“If it’s too much, let me know.”
She lets out a shaky breath.
“Dahlia?”
“Don’t stop,” she says.
I curl my fingers inside the leg of her jean shorts until they brush against her damp panties, then trace a circle on her clit through the material. “You’re so wet.”
“The Felix Walters effect,” she says quickly.
I kiss her neck, then move my hands to the top of her shorts. I swear my hand shakes as I pop the button and pull the zipper down. I don’t take her clothes off but push my hand down the front of her panties until my fingers glide through her slick heat.
“Felix.” My name comes out in a plea.
“I’ve got you. Nice and slow. Say the word and we st—”
“Don’t you dare stop.”
I chuckle. “All right.”
Sweat beads up on my forehead as I push in and out of her. She soaks my fingers, grinding into my hand, and moaning so sweetly. I want to hear that noise on a loop for the rest of my life.
Her movements are jerkier as I increase the pace slightly, and her breaths are ragged. “Felix.”
No, I take it back, that’s what I want to hear on a loop for the rest of my life. My name said on the brink of orgasm.
“I think I’m gonna,” she pants.
“Come for me, Dahlia.” I rub the heel of my palm against her clit harder as her body begins to tremble.
Her moans fill my room and echo off the walls. I’m torn between wanting to swallow those pretty noises, so no one else can hear, and reveling in the sound.
She curls forward into a ball as her body goes soft. I move my hand up around her waist and pull her back against me.
