Playing For Keeps - Alley Ciz Page 0,75

head thunking against the door as it falls back, granting him better access.

“I didn’t give him a fucking choice.” His mouth finds the soft spot where my neck meets my shoulder, sucking, and I see stars. “I can’t remember the last time I had you all to myself.” Kiss. Bite. Suck. “I’m rectifying that right now.”

I moan again, and shit, I totally hear my inner cheerleader telling me I’m starting to sound like a porn star. It’s not my fault. He never shaves when he travels for away games, and his stubble is even longer than usual; the way it scratches across the sensitive skin of my heaving breasts then over my budded nipples only heightens my awareness of it.

“Ar—” My voice breaks on—you guessed it—another moan when he places his hot mouth over my nipple and…sucks. “Aren’t you hungry?”

Brantley had him tied up at the party, playing the role of his future agent, so Mase never got to enjoy any of the food Grace selected.

“Starving,” he growls, pulling me from the door and tossing me down onto one of the queen-sized mattresses in the room. My body bounces twice from the force before coming to a stop when he climbs on top of me.

“So then—” Again my words are cut off, this time from his stubble traveling down the length of my stomach, pleasure shooting a direct line to my clit. His tongue smooths away the abrasion of his prickly hair, swirling around my navel before his teeth latch onto the jeweled ring pierced through it with a tug.

Dexterous fingers pop the button on my jeans, the hiss from the zipper ringing out seeming obscenely loud to my ears. A whoosh of cold air hits the overheated skin of my thighs as the denim is jerked down my legs. The curse Mase mutters when my pants get stuck on the cowboy boots I wore again—because, Texas—has me giggling.

All humor fades with a shocked gasp as he slaps my pussy over the red lacy thong covering it. I don’t know if it’s the unexpected move or the pure unadulterated lust radiating off of him, but I’m this close to coming on the spot.

The thud of the boots’ heavy heels hitting the carpet as he tosses them over his shoulder is an audible representation of his determination not to be deterred.

Then all bets are off.

The soaked material of my panties tears easily under his fingers, and if I had any doubt about what he wanted to eat, it’s gone now. Me—I’m the meal.

Mase pushes his way between my legs, throwing them over his shoulders, latching his mouth onto my clit without preamble. He feasts like he’s starving and I’m the buffet, the bite of teeth soothed by the swirling of his skilled tongue, only to repeat all over again.

My orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave.

My heart pounds furiously, battling it out with my lungs as to who will be the victor in escaping my ribcage first. Before I get the chance to catch my breath, he shoves two fingers deep inside me, my walls squeezing them as he sucks my clit all the way into his mouth.

“Oh…god…Mase.” I knock his hat away, my fingers ripping at his expresso-colored locks. If he keeps this up too much longer, he might not have any hair left for me to grab hold of.

All the stars in Texas explode behind my eyelids when his fingers scissor and a second orgasm slams into me.

I wiggle, trying to get away, the sensations too much, too intense, but Mase’s strong arms are curled around my legs, anchoring my hips to the bed as he continues his onslaught on my pussy. It isn’t until a third orgasm and the last bit of strength in my vocal chords are wrenched from me that he finally drops my legs from his shoulders.

I’m weak, limp, full-on noodle-limbed—when the hell did he remove his shirt?—as his calloused hands slip under my knees and he readjusts my legs around his hips. In a single breath, he drives the full length of his cock inside me with one thrust.

My mouth falls open on a silent cry at the sudden fullness. It’s rare for Mase to fit the entirety of his cock inside me—his overwhelming size extending to all of him—in one go.

“God, babe.” Hot breath hits my neck when he groans, the soft strands of his hair tickling my ear. “You’re a fucking puddle.”

That explains his easy entry.

The ability to speak left me

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