Tackle (Bad Boy Billionaire Sports Romance)

His tone leaves no room for argument, and it sends a rush of arousal through me, the idea that this guy knows exactly what he's doing and he speaks what he wants with authority.

While I peel off my tank top and let it drop to the floor, Colton sits down on the chair by his desk, facing me with his legs spread out.

His hand wrapped around the base of his massive cock.

Heat rises to my face as I watch him stroke his shaft, all the while looking at me.

"Has no one ever jerked off in front of you, Cassie?" he asks. His hand doesn't stop moving.

"No." I speak the word uncomfortably.

"Take off your skirt," Colton says. "Unzip it and let it drop on the floor."

With my eyes fixated on him, I do it, stepping out of the pooled fabric on the floor to kick it to the side. Then I unbutton my shirt and drop it to the floor. Now I'm standing here in front of him, in a bra and panties and my heels.

I'm trying not to feel nervous as hell with his eyes on me.

"Do you see what you do to me? Do you like that I'm hard for you, Cassie?" he asks. He's hard and the head of his cock glistens with pre-cum. I imagine him exploding inside me, his cum dripping between my legs.

My pussy throbs at the thought.

I swallow hard. "Yes," I murmur, my voice catching.

"Take off your bra and let me see you."

I unhook my bra and slide the straps over my arms, letting it fall to the floor.

"Perfect tits, perfect mouth, perfect ass," he notes. "I'm going to come all over those perfect tits of yours. And that ass. And I'm definitely going to fill that perfect little mouth up with cum."

I hear a whimper escape my lips and I'm suddenly aware that I'm standing here pressing my thighs closed because the throbbing between my legs is so insistent. Especially when he talks like that. No one has ever talked that way to me before.

"You're still worried about breaking the rules,” he says, his hand moving leisurely up and down his shaft. "So I'm not going to lay a finger on you. No rules broken. Take off your panties."

"I'm positive this counts as inappropriate," I say, but I slip the sides of my panties over my hips and drop them to the floor.

"Pick them up and hand them to me," he commands. "If you're still worried about the rules, the door is right there."

When I reach him, stopping just between his spread legs, I dangle the panties from my finger. His knuckles brush against my inner thigh as he brings his hand up his shaft. I look down at him, thinking about how easy it would be to climb onto his lap right now and slide onto his cock, thinking about how it would feel inside me.

"I am still worried about the rules," I say softly. "And about…other things."

"Other things … like me fucking you? he asks. He holds my panties in one hand and brings them to his face, inhaling deeply. "That smell makes me want to come right now."

I don't know whether to be flattered or embarrassed watching him sniff my panties. Or if I should be embarrassed that it turns me on. "Yes," I admit. "Other things like that."

As well as that little pesky thing called my virginity that I still need to get rid of. And the fact that college football's biggest player wants to take it.

"I wasn't joking when I said I wasn't going to fuck you, Cassie," he says. "Not until you beg me to."

"You … think I'm going to beg you to fuck me?" I sputter in disbelief.

"I know you will," he says, stroking his cock.

"You're arrogant."

"Your panties are wet, Cassie. Tell me what I'd find if I reached between your legs right now. Are you as wet as I think you are?"

I flush warm under his gaze. "I …"

"Do it," he says. "Reach between your legs and show me how wet you are. I want to see it."

I slide my fingers between my legs. Oh God. Relief washes over me the minute I touch myself.

"Let me see it on your fingers," he says.

I pull my fingers, coated in my wetness, from between my legs and show him. He growls.

He actually growls out loud when he sees how wet I am.

"I've been thinking about how you taste, Cassie," he says. "I've jerked off over and over imagining what you taste like."

I hear myself whimper, and I bite down on my lip to keep from doing it again. Every part of my body is on edge, my nipples hard in the air-conditioned room.

I slide my fingers between my legs, touching my clit without waiting for him to tell me, driven by the overwhelming need that floods me.

"I've jerked off thinking about you on your knees, taking my cock in your mouth," he goes on. His voice is ragged, and he strokes himself harder.

Now, I hear myself moan. "Oh God," I whisper.

"You've thought about me too, Cassie." His expression is pained now, and my fingers move more quickly, pressing harder against my clit, matching the repetitiveness of his strokes. "Tell me what you think about when you come."

Oh, God. Do I tell him?

"Tell me," he says. "I want to hear your fantasies."

I take a deep breath. I think my desire is overtaking my sanity, because I actually open my mouth and tell him. "After one of our tutoring sessions, I went straight to my bedroom and I –“ I hesitate for a second.