The Beautiful Game

Chapter Thirty-Five - Lou

"Are you ever going to give up?"

"Nope." He pops the 'P' in the nope and takes a drink of his Pepsi before reaching out to grab another slice. God this boy can eat. We're sprawled out on the sofa, sharing a large pizza that he got delivered. Avatar playing quietly in the background. We hadn't watched it since it had started, choosing to talk instead.

"I feel like the whole college football thing is like a cult." I don't think twice before speaking, once I've said it I'm worried I've offended him. Fuck, if it was a cult, Carter would be the gorgeous, charismatic leader. Instead, he just laughs and pokes my side.

"Of course, you would think that, take a break from those podcasts you nut." I nudge his elbow playfully. "Come on, just accept the tickets and come watch, you'll have fun." He's been trying to convince me to come and watch the away game next week for the last ten minutes.

Going to watch the football game with friends seems like something a college senior should do, light-hearted and fun. A couple of things I'd been missing for a while.

"Fine, I'll go." He takes a break from chewing and looks at me, I smile at the hopeful glint in his eyes.

"Really?"

"Yes." He chucks the rest of his slice onto the cardboard, finally full, and grins at me. "Are you messing with me?"

"No, I'll go." I grin back.

"I knew I'd get to you eventually." Before I realise what's happening he leans in and kisses me softly.

It surprised me. He'd been in my apartment for over an hour now, and he hadn't made another move since he'd first walked in, and I'd almost climbed him like a tree.

Admittedly, I'd freaked the fuck out. Babbling about never doing anything like this before and wanting to be chill; whilst actually being super not chill.

I didn't want to think about how many times Carter's done this process with other girls. Maybe not the roundabout way that we'd gotten here, but the eventual process of, Netflix and chill.

No, I wanted my brain to be quiet, his lips were certainly helping with that. So shockingly soft in comparison to the rest of him, so muscular and chiselled.

He leans away before I have chance to open my mouth and deepen the kiss. Nonetheless, I'm not offended, he's just being careful with me, scared to not encourage another spout of panic.

I could kiss you for hours.

Here he was, being the perfect gentleman; buying dinner instead of cutting to the chase like I'd expected. He wasn't rushing anything. He'd said no pressure and he'd meant it, choosing to sit and talk instead.

His restraint merely turns me on more.

Come on Lou, stop being a little bitch.

I reach out and grab his shirt, dragging him back to me. The shock on his face nearly makes me laugh but instead I paint my lips to his. The low moan that leaves him makes my toes curl in my socks.

His huge hands reach out for me, fast and hungrily, and God, I go to him eagerly. He lifts me over him like I weigh nothing, settling me down so that I straddle him on the couch. His thighs are so big that I feel stretched out above him.

There's a pause in gravity as he holds me there, over him, our lips a hairsbreadth apart. 

I open my eyes to see him staring at me in untamed desire and wonder, but a fraction of uncertainty lingering behind the shimmering lust.

He wants me in this position, so I feel in control and I set the pace.

I have power over him.

This huge man, who exudes power in everything he does, was giving it to me.

Thank you Lulu lemon for my pants being so thin; when I re-join our lips and sink down over him, I'm able to feel everything beneath. The buckle and rough seam of denim working overtime to restrain his hard length.

I trace his bottom lip with my tongue, and he exhales roughly before tangling against it with his own, his hand touching my jaw to move me where he needs me. I drag my lips against him, desperate to chase away any of his uncertainty.

I want him.

It's rougher than before, battling tongues and a clash of teeth; we're both oblivious to it, lost in it as I grind against him. Our mouths hot and wet.

He brings both of his hands down to my hips, his fingertips meeting against my butt as he squeezes with enough pressure to leave a mark. A growl leaves his throat as he lets his head drop back against the back of the sofa, eyes glued to the apex of my thighs where I grind and swirl against his erection greedily.

I arch my back to feel all of him.

"Fuck, the way you move."

He asks for silent permission, touching the hem of my sweater; and I nod, raising my arms above my head. Off, off, off.

He pulls it off and throws it, leaving just the thin black cotton bra beneath.

"I've been thinking about this body none fucking stop." The yearning in his deep voice causes my hips to jerk against him. 

He sits up straighter, so quickly that I gasp; the gasp soon transitions into a sigh as he pulls down one of the cups of my bra and takes my nipple into his mouth.

I grind harder against him, lost to the sensation. He moans against my breast, holding me tightly to him, as I move my lower half, chasing the orgasm that's already within easy reach. My heartbeat strong and pulsing between my legs.

He seems unleashed when I moan loudly, he bites my nipple causing me to cry out, my head falling back; the slight pain pushing my sensations into overdrive.

He takes the opportunity to wrap his fist in my ponytail and pull; whilst thrusting upwards to meet the space between my thighs.

"Look at you. Rubbing your pussy all over me." He loosens the grip on my ponytail to allow my head to move back to him. "I bet you're soaked." I don't feel embarrassed at his words, instead I let them wash over me, loving every moment. 

I seek his mouth blindly and he's there for me, his lips steadying me as I lose all sense but the need to climax.

"Fuck baby. Come." Baby. Along with the command in his voice and the throbbing between my thighs, I was done for.

"Carter!" I scream his name as I climax.

He kisses and licks my throat as I shudder on top of him, his erection like steel beneath me.

The surrounding sounds re-enter my consciousness, the traffic on the street below, the film still playing quietly; reminding me of the outside world that had been lost to me moments ago. 

A wild thought comes to me whilst I regain my breath. 

Before he registers what's happening I'm lowering myself down between his legs, my knees finding their place on the floor. My hands shake lightly as I reach up towards his buckle.

His face is flushed, as he watches me, his mouth agape. One of his hands moves to his forehead, pushing the brown curls off his face. His other hand finds my face, gripping my jaw.

"You don't have to do that." His voice is low and strained.

"I want to." His eyes blacken and nostrils flare in raw desire. The hand on my jaw moves up so that one of his fingers can slide into my mouth, on instinct I suck it. He groans loudly.

The sounds of his pleasure just fuel me further, I hadn't ever thought much about my sexual fantasies before. But Carter Hughes, sprawled on my couch, flushed, and aroused, was the best thing I'd ever seen.

The button of his jeans pops open against the pressure beneath, Carter's breathing turns erratic as I ease down the zipper and gesture for him to lift his hips. He does so and helps me pull down both his jeans and boxers.

Holy shit.