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She tries to prop herself up further on the pillows on the couch, but her wrist brace doesn’t allow her. She lets her head fall back against the cushions.
“Stay still,” I admonish.
“Oh,” she moans. Her thighs try to close but I grip her thighs and push them further apart as I place kisses along the inside of her leg, over the crease of her hip. She shudders beneath me.
I love how responsive she is already. Goosebumps spread across her skin as I tease her.
I inch my kisses closer, nipping and sucking over her folds, slowly, teasingly, waiting for the telltale sign of her hips attempting to grind against my face before I continue. I draw out every lick and lap of my tongue against her. She’s perfect. Desperate for the relief that will come soon enough.
“Please,” she whimpers. Her good hand snakes into my hair and pushes my face closer. Her nails grazing my scalp as she clutches me.
I run my tongue slowly over the length of her slit.
“Oh. Oh, God,” she moans, her body already tensing.
Under other circumstances, I might draw this out, make her beg for it. I love how desperate she is already. It is tempting to edge her to the point of tears. I know she would come so good for me. But I’ve been just as excited for this as she is. I won’t be able to hold back much longer. I’ve wanted this for too long to savor the moment.
“Sean, please.” It is her strangled moan that breaks the last of my restraint.
I press my tongue flat against her clit, and circle her slowly, letting her adjust to the sensation. She shakes with every pass. Her thighs press against my face, and I feel myself growing harder as her body writhes from my touch.
I circle her clit faster, alternative swirls of my tongue with light sucking against her skin. She’s so wet. So fucking wet. And tight. God, she feels good. I ease one finger inside of her, stretching her as she shudders with pleasure.
“Oh,” she cries. “Oh my god.” Her hips buck.
I want to drag my mouth over every inch of her pussy until my face is buried and I’m lost inside of her. I latch my lips on her clit, sucking it, biting it gently as I slip a second finger inside and her pussy throbs around me. I thrust my fingers, curling upward to find that spot against her inner wall as I increase my tongue’s pressure on her clit.
I know she’s close as her pussy clenches around me and her body trembles.
“You like seeing me on my knees, baby?” I look up to see her eyes. Fuck. My dick twitches in my pants. I watch as she starts to convulse with pleasure, her muscles tightening as her body arches into me.
“Sean.” She pants, breathless, barely able to say my name. “Don’t. Stop.”
I press my tongue hard and flat against her clit, sucking and lapping as my fingers fill her and her orgasm crashes through her body. I keep going until I feel every last shake of pleasure leave her limbs, only stopping when her legs fall limp around me.
I lick my lips. “Such a good girl.” Our eyes lock as I bring my fingers to my mouth and suck them clean. “You taste good too.”
Her lips quiver and her head falls back. “Sean.” Her chest heaves still as she comes down from her orgasm. “Sean.”
The sound of my name on her lips is the sweetest sound.
“Sean. That was. That was perfect.”
“You are perfect.” I mean it.
In the back of my mind that doubt creeps back in. But Coach was wrong. I can make both a priority. I can make both parts of my life work.
CHAPTER 28
ASTRID
Ilay out the jersey Heather gave me at the start of the season. Daniels, Number 4. I run my good hand over the embroidered stitching. A thrill of excitement runs through me. I’ve worn his jersey before, but never at home during the actual season.
And never as his… whatever I am.
I wonder if I’ll ever get used to this feeling. It doesn’t seem possible. I can’t imagine anyone getting used to showing up to support their boyfriend. Imagine in high school, finally getting to wear you boyfriends letterman’s jacket, or his jersey around school. The way that felt so… special. This is just like that, except times a million.
Even if I did somehow get used to being a part of Sean’s world, I don’t think I could ever get bored watching him play. It’s my favorite part of my week.
