Both my hands slip around the back of his neck as my nails scratch his scalp. “Mm,” Zanders hums into my mouth. “I like that.”
I keep my mouth on him as I roll my hips, earning some much-needed friction on my clit, and grinding down on the rock-hard erection he’s hiding in his pants.
Hiding probably isn’t the right word. From what I can feel, there’s not much hiding going on.
“Fuck,” he groans. “I like that even more.”
My chest fills with confidence. I can do this. “What else do you like?”
Zanders’ lips tug up slightly on one side. “I’d like to see what that mouth of yours can do, other than talk back to me.”
My palms run the length of his chest, pushing his shirt over his broad shoulders. “You like when I talk back to you.”
Zanders tries to hold back his knowing grin by kissing me again. He fills his palms with two handfuls of my ass before he slaps it, then nudges me off his lap.
I slip off him before taking a step back. When Zanders stands, he peels his arms out of his shirt, leaving it on the couch and towering over me. Keeping his hooded eyes locked on mine, he undoes the zipper on his pants before nodding towards them and silently telling me to finish the job.
Biting down on my lower lip, I get on my knees in front of him, minuscule under this powerful man. My fingers hook into his pants, tugging them down. They’re tight around his ass and thighs, hockey player problems, but when they get past the majority of his muscle, they pool around his ankles.
He watches every movement with vigilant attention.
As Zanders kicks his shoes and pants to the side, all I can do is keep my stare at the giant package behind his tight briefs. I’ve seen him in as little clothing as he’s in right now, every time we’re on the airplane, but I was hoping that he was a show-er, not a grower. Judging by my current view—he’s both.
I flatten my palm against him through the fabric, causing Zanders to hiss an inhale from the sensation. Stroking his length over the material, I peer up at him through my lashes.
“Don’t tease me, sweetheart.” Zanders runs the pad of his thumb across my lip in a warning. “Stop fucking playing with it and take it out.”
Returning my attention south, I grip the elastic waistband of his briefs and pull them down. When his dick bounces to its full size right in front of me, the first thought that rushes through my mind is how the fuck is this supposed to fit inside my mouth, let alone anywhere else?
I can feel my eyes widen as I grip his base, my fingers having trouble connecting due to the size. It’s thick, decorated with veins. And for a dick, I’ve got to say it’s pretty fucking beautiful.
“Open your mouth,” Zanders commands.
I do as I’m told, wetting my lips, then taking him in my mouth. A breathy moan escapes him and fills my ears, coaxing me. Sliding my tongue down his shaft, I take as much of him as I can. What doesn’t fit, I use my hand.
“Good girl.” Zanders gathers my curls in his fist, holding my hair out of the way. “Now, open your throat.”
All the blood in my body rushes to the spot between my legs as I push my knees together, hoping the friction will ease the ache caused by his words.
I continue my pace, my head bobbing, my lips sucking, and my hand stroking. I take him a little deeper, and as I do, I look up with watery eyes. Zanders’ commanding gaze is mesmerized on every move I make.
“Keep doing that. Fuck, you’re so good,” he encourages, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone as his hips thrust into me. “So fucking good.”
He continues his movements and I take as much of him as I can.
“I like when your mouth is too busy to make your smartass remarks.”
My eyes narrow into slits as I continue to blow him, but Zanders wears a satisfied grin as one of his brows lifts in a challenge.
My tongue circles the tip of his cock in a rhythmic pace before my lips run down the length. Sucking my cheeks in, my hand reaches up and cups his balls. I stroke the thin skin as Zanders falls forward, bending at the waist and having to hold on to my shoulders just to keep upright.
Sliding him out of my mouth, a gratified smile rises on my lips before I take a deep, earned breath. “If I can’t talk, then neither can you.”
“Fuck.” He shivers when his breath returns, his eyes closed, attempting to compose himself.
Zanders is still bent over, holding on to my shoulders for balance. “I was right about you, sweetheart. There really is nothing sweet about you, huh?”
He wipes the moisture from my mouth using his thumb, and as it trails over my lips, I take it in, sucking and stroking it with my tongue.
His eyes darken as he removes his thumb from my lips, replacing it instead with his mouth on mine. Tugging on my hand, he forces me to stand from my knees.
I cannot believe this flawless naked man is standing right in front of me. His arms are corded, decorated with bulging veins and black ink. His legs are thick, cut, and tatted. His abdomen is chiseled and lean, and there’s a V of muscle that points straight to the most perfect cock I’ve ever laid eyes on.
Seriously, this thing deserves some kind of medal.
“Let me see you,” he says, barely audible. He gently tugs at the hem, motioning to my top, but he doesn’t pull it up. He waits for me to let him.
Heat rushes to my cheeks as the nerves return. Am I ready to do this? Am I ready to let him see me? I’ve come this far, but what if he doesn’t like what he sees. I would have to live with that embarrassment for the rest of the season, having him on board after every game on the road.
“Hey, you okay?” he softly asks, his fingers hooked behind my neck and his thumb gently skimming my jaw. “If you want to stop, we can stop.”
My eyes dart to his. The combination of badgering and gentleness between us is sending me for a loop, keeping me on my toes.
Shaking my head, I hold on to his bare hip, pressing my fingertips into his flesh and pulling him into me.
Zanders takes a step towards me, his erection pressing into my stomach, reminding me that I really don’t want to stop.
I put on my mask of confidence and reach for the hem of my shirt before lifting it up and over my head. As I toss it to the ground, my eyes fall back to him, but his attention dances all over my body.
His fingertips softly trail my ribs, drawing small invisible designs into my skin as he explores me. His hand reaches behind my back as his eyes dart to mine. Holding my gaze in approval, he unclasps my bra with a swift motion of his wrist.
Keeping my head down, I slip my arms out of each of the straps, letting my bra drop to the ground between us. My boobs are two completely different sizes, and without the help of my bra, they hang fairly low due to their weight. Typically, I don’t care in the heat of the moment, but I’ve never been with someone as perfectly formed as the man in front of me.
Both of Zanders’ hands take my breasts, his large palms engulfing and squeezing them, making my nipples hard from the attention.