Breakaway (Beyond the Play #2)

by Grace Reilly

Before long, he’s cupping my jaw, murmuring that he’s close. I pull off, but not all the way; just enough that I taste his come on my tongue when he tips over the edge. I swallow it down, continuing to lick at him softly, closing my eyes for a lon...

Eventually, he pulls me up. Saliva covers my mouth and chin, but he kisses me anyway as he runs his hands down my breasts and belly, settling on my hips. When he pulls back, I feel shy suddenly, unable to meet his gaze...

“Was I good?” I ask. My voice breaks slightly. My whole body feels like a spark plug, ready to come alive. “So fucking good,” he says. Warmth blooms in my chest at his words, but it heads straight between my legs when he spreads me...

I feel him press a kiss to my head as he works me over. The sensations are exquisite, but his words leave me so close I can h...

I shake apart. If I thought I came hard when he went down on me, this is ten times more intense; stars burst at the edges of my vision...

I’m so sensitive I try to twist away from his touch, but he just switches to stroking my inner thigh instead. Slick coats my skin. I’m panting, and so is he; it feels like we’re in ...

It’s almost strange to look at him and see the evidence of what we did together. I can see the lingering hunger in his eyes. The still-rapid rise and fall of his chest. I can feel the burn of his beard on my mouth and jaw.

I was expecting awkwardness, but I feel completely relaxed, and judging by the looseness of his body, he feels the same way. I know this won’t lead anywhere real, but for a moment—half a second, really—I let myself pretend.

I just want to think about Penny. Again. Does everyone think about their hookups this much? I’m not used to having a girl stick in my mind. We’ve been texting nonstop, which is almost weirder than knowing exactly who I’m going to for sex.

She’s adorably chatty, sending me links to Buzzfeed quizzes she wants me to take and informing me of every time she pets a dog and telling me what’s happening in The Americans, which she’s watching with her roommate, Mia.

I’d say that she’s working overtime to make sure we stay firmly on the “friends” side of this arrangement, if not for how she acts when we get in the same room. In the past week and a half, we’ve hooked up half a dozen times; memorably, I ate her out in an old basement-level classroom when we ran into each other after class, and she blew me again—while o...

“Wanna wear your hand like a necklace.” I let her set the pace, but by the end, she was begging me to fuck her face, pressing down on her throat with enough pressure that tears pricked in her eyes.

The rough-and-tumble stress relief has been helping. I’ve been sharp during practice, and at one of last weekend’s away games, we won in overtime. In a twist that should have felt horribly awkward but has left me decidedly unrepentant, Coach told me yesterday that he’s been noticing my improvements and restraint on the ice. If only he knew where my newfound focus was coming from.

She looks so good in a New York autumn, it’s hard to imagine her as an Arizona native, but when we chatted on the phone a couple of days ago, she had me in tears laughing about the time a lizard snuck into her skate and hitched a ride from Tempe to Salt Lake for a figure skating competition.

I don’t bother hiding my smile. Here I am with my own hockey player, although love isn’t on the table.

Before him, I never felt truly sexy. When I’ve had a guy’s attention, it’s been about objectification, not desire. With Cooper, though? He’s ten yards away and I can feel the heat in his eyes.

I took care putting on my makeup and picking out a cute skating outfit before heading to the rink; I’m in pink leg warmers, black leggings, and a tight pink sweater. Combined with the scrunchie holding my thick braid in place and my little gold hoops and necklace with the butterfly charm? I look like a hockey player’s wet dream.

The second we wrap up class, I’m going to skate over there and kiss him. He beats me to it, nearly colli...

I know our plan includes doing homework first, and that we really should, but I can’t stop thinking about how much I’d like to slide into his lap and kiss him, pizza breath and all.

We haven’t gotten any further down The List, despite hooking up right and left, but I’d like to get going on it. I’m not going to magically feel safe having vaginal sex again if I don’t try anything else first.

“Or maybe you just like those back-to-back Stanley Cups.” “Maybe it’s that I like the players. Pat Maroon has a spectacular beard.” Cooper’s mouth drops open. “And I don’t?”

I just smile, pretending to ponder it deeply as I tap my nail against my chin. “Let’s see. Do you root for the Islanders or Rangers? You’re from Long Island, it can’t be the Sabres.” “Choose wisely, Red. Our next hookup depends upon it.” “Oh yeah?”

I lean over the table, getting close enough we could kiss, but stopping just before our lips brush. It’s fun to flirt when it means nothing; there’s no pressure when I know we’re just...

“What are you going to do?” “Think about that list of yours,” he murmurs into my ear. I shiver at the feel of his warm breath on my skin. “Keep teasing and I’ll have to punish you. I can thin...

Cooper pecks me on the mouth before leaning back. His eyes are dark, like he really would pull me over his lap and spank me here in the kitchen. I press my thighs together, trying and failing not to feel the swoop of desire low in my belly.

He glances at his brother. “Sorry, Sebby. We’re engaging in some serious sex coaching here.” “Because that’s such a smart idea,” Sebastian says dryly. “Don’t worry, she already promised not to fall in love with me.” I roll my eyes as I hit his shoulder. “As if.”

He leans back in his chair, draping his arm over the back. “So, what’ll it be?” “Islanders,” I say. “Isn’t Mat Barzal so dreamy?” I know it’s wrong; I noticed the Rangers sticker on his truck. But it’s too fun not to tease, especially when he drags me into his lap—and then over his shoulder, like he’s hauling a sack of flour.

“Cooper!” I shriek, kicking at him. He steadies me by palming my ass, then pinching it, making me squeal. His laughter rumbles in his chest as he carries me upstairs.

I bounce, laughing, as he joins me, and then we’re kissing, and maybe this ought to feel weird or awkward, but I don’t register a thing except that delicious tingle between my legs and the weight of Cooper’s body over mine. Eventually, he pulls back. His eyes are dancing, and a smirk plays across his lips.

“You noticed the sticker on my truck.” “Obviously.” “You’re such a little brat.” “So punish me,” I say. I undo my braid, shaking my long hair over my shoulders.

“You promised me lessons. I’m ready for a new assignment.” “I’m impressed, Red,” he says as he drags me close, running his hand down my back ...

I gasp as his fingernails dig into my ass through my leggings. I’ve imagined being spanked before, and it’s always turned me on; I hope it does the same for me in real life. He pulls down the neckline of my sweater and sucks a hi...

I grind against his lap in return, pleased when it makes him groan and kiss my mouth again. We go at it until we’re both breathless, gasping for air. He tugs on my loose hair, pressing...

He looks me in the eye, and, apparently liking what he sees, tugs off my sweater entirely. I take off my bralette, just pulling it over my head and tossing it onto the floor, and he abruptly buries his fa...

Between his rough fingers pinching one of my nipples and his mouth nearly engulfing my other breast, I feel overwhelmed—but that pales in comparison to the heat that courses through me when h...

I whine, burying my face against his still-clothed thigh. All his clothes are on, even his belt, and I’m completely bare, laid out for him like a buffet. He strokes a hand down my bare back, all the way to my ass, and squeezes. “...

“How about ten, Penny? That ought to be enough. Don’t want to overwhelm you too much.” He uses my real name so infrequently that I’m distracted for a moment, but then he digs his fingers into my ass.

“Sweetheart?” “Yes. Cooper . . .” I swallow down the lump in my throat. I don’t use his first name very often either. “I’m going to take care of you,” he says, somehow catching the drift of my unspoken question; I’m so turned on I know I’m probably staining his jeans, but I don’t care. I’m shaking with anticipation.

“Count for me. If I take it too far, tell me and I’ll stop right away.” His voice has taken on a low, soothing tone. He strokes my skin for a moment more before issuing the first slap. It’s not hard enough to really hurt, but enough to sting. I gasp, kicking ...

“Count,” he prompts. My voice wobbles with unexpected emotion. “One.” “Good girl.” He smacks me again, his open palm hitting the other cheek this time. I get out the count faster, so he moves back to the other side, and we go on like...

I knew it would turn me on, both the sharp little blooms of pain and the position, the knowledge that he has me caught and put on display for his eyes alone, but I’m riding a tidal wave of emotion, too, my eyes burning as I struggle to keep my breathing even. He smacks me low...

“You’re looking so pretty and pink like this,” he says, bending to kiss the top of my spine as I stutter out the count. “Giving yourself to me, being my good fucking girl.” “Cooper,” I say, my voice strangled; it’s that or call him something that I’m terrified would ruin the mood entirely.

He spreads my cheeks, no doubt giving him a glimpse of my hole, and slaps right over it. The tips of his fingers catch my cunt, and I moan, mouthing at his thigh again. He presses his hand there, getting his fingers slick, and finishes the last three smacks that way: his hand wet, marking my skin in more ways than one.

Half of me wants him to keep going, to push me until I’m nothing but trembling goo, but I’m pressing down against his lap like the slightest bit of friction will help ease my aching core, and I nearly sob with relief when he drags me into a kiss, one hand tangled in my hair, the othe...

“Gorgeous girl,” he murmurs. “So good and perfect for me.” He moves his hand between my legs, running his fingers over my pussy. I moan aloud at even that slight brush, wishing he would just press down on my clit until I see stars, but he uses hi...

“I’d ask if you enjoyed it, but I have my answer right here.” “I need more,” I say, arching into his grip. “Please, anything.” He nips at my lip as he kisses me. “M...

“It’s just—it’s last on The List for a reason. I’m not there yet. I shouldn’t have said anything.” I kiss her cheek softly, more out of compulsion than anything. At least she hasn’t scrambled off my lap. I think I startled her, not scared her.

Still, I’m an asshole; of course there’s a reason regular old dick-in-vagina is last on her list. I don’t know all the details, and I’m not owed them, but that doesn’t mean I have to be a massive idiot about the whole thing.

She keeps her gorgeous eyes on me as she reaches between her legs and rubs her clit, panting softly. The small curves of her body, the tits I can suck on whole, if I’m so inclined, the fucking birthmark right next to her bellybutton that looks like a starburst—a real star, I mean, not the candy—it all adds up to a picture that has left me so hard up for it I can barely think.

My cock is straining against my jeans, and I’m loathing my bright idea to wear a belt today. I can’t quite fight back the possessiveness running through me as I look at her.