His Sexy Cheerleader

Fuck yes.

My soulmate.

A game-changer.

Chapter 9

Layla

I couldn’t breathe — Oz was enormous.

Never in my life had I felt so filled with cock. It was obscene and amazing at the same time. I felt like a porn star and a virgin.

My pussy was so wet, he slid in easily as pleasure rippled all around me, my nerve endings going off like a Texas firing squad, and all I could do was groan as he bracketed my hips, driving into me without mercy.

Head down, ass up, he fucked me like a whore and I liked it.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he growled, his grip tightening on my hips as he flexed against me. Oh God, I was wrong. My fantasies couldn’t compare to the thrill of Oz being inside me. I could barely hold back another orgasm. My legs were already shaking. It was everything I could do to hold on for dear life. At this point, I was simply being buffeted by pure pleasure from every angle. I couldn’t stop moaning and I didn’t care who heard me. I was beyond conscious thought. Just as I was about to shatter, Oz stopped long enough to flip me around, tossing my legs over his shoulders with a feral grin, that hungry light in his eyes sending my arousal into overdrive.

“I want to watch as you come,” he said, sliding his hand down to where we joined. Using my own wetness, he began rubbing my clit as he continued to fuck me and I lost whatever grip I had on my ability to hold onto my sanity.

“Ohh, fuck, Ozzzzz!” I came hard. “Ohhh, my God!”

Like a fucking banshee.

Dimly, I heard him follow with a “Fuckkkkk, yesssss, Layla!” His eyes wide and unseeing, he came with a groan and I shuddered as he fell on top of me with a grunt. My womb pulsed with tiny rhythmic contractions clenching around his cock, milking his shaft for every drop, doing as nature ended.

Ha! Joke’s on you, Mother Nature. I saw him glove up. Okay, I was totally delirious.

So, this was what cock-drunk was like.

He rolled to his back, careful to pull the condom free and tossing it to the trash before letting out a long, rattling sigh.

Was this when it got awkward? I started to climb up but he stopped me. I glanced at him in question. “Are you a cuddler or something because this isn’t exactly the place to do that.”

“I wouldn’t mind a snuggle or two.”

Jokes? Good God. I didn’t have the mental band width to deal with jokes right now. “Oz, seriously, I don’t know what the hell just happened but you and I both know—”

“Yeah, we both know that it was bound to happen because we have a connection.” He moved to his side, lounging as if we were just casually hanging out in my bedroom and not in the haunted house fundraiser event. Jesus, he looked hot, though. I went to the door and hung the ‘Closed Attraction’ sign up, just in case there were stragglers, though it seemed as though everyone had pretty much left for the night. Then, I tossed him his jeans. “Tired of the view already?” he teased.

Not hardly. “Doesn’t seem right to have a conversation with your cock hanging out,” I answered, trying not to stare but in all honesty, he did have a beautiful cock. Probably the nicest I’d ever seen and not just because he’d just given me the best fucking orgasms of my life. Well, that might have something to do with it.

His chuckle sent tickling fingers down my back. “Come here,” he instructed in a firm tone. I wanted to say no, to remind him that I wasn’t interested in him but my feet told a different story as they obediently followed his command. Damn, if I wasn’t sitting beside him, awaiting his instruction and when he began slowly unlacing my corset I didn’t make a move to stop him.

And when he freed my breasts, filling each palm I arched with a groan as his tongue flicked the tightened nipples.

“I finally get it, Layla,” he said against my skin.

“You get what?” I asked, my head falling back as he sucked a nipple while kneading the other. I moaned, my legs opening, already greedy for more as if I hadn’t just been split apart mere moments before. “Ohh Ozz, fuck me, not again…”

“That’s the thing, I want to fuck you raw. I want you walk out of here knowing exactly who you belong to — me. It’s taken me awhile to figure out this thing between us but I get it now and you do, too.”

“I don’t,” I tried to protest but in my heart, I did. Chrissie had hit the nail on the head. There was a reason I’d kept my distance from Oz. I knew if I dipped my toe, I’d want to head for the deep end and I wasn’t sure if I’d drown.

I was afraid to take that chance.

Oz represented everything that I didn’t trust.

“I hate rich men,” I gasped as he moved to the other breast, reaching to rub my wet slit so he could taste my juices on his fingers. I squirmed with immediate arousal at the primal action.

Oz smiled briefly before quipping, “Me too. What’s your point?”

“I…I...well, you’re a trust-fund kid, aren’t you?”

He slid his finger slowly inside me, taking my breath away as he immediately teased my swollen G-spot. I groaned, falling back against the bedding as he inserted another finger before answering me, his tone reflective, “Yes, I am but that doesn’t automatically mean that I’m an asshole. You’ve never asked me what I do with my money. Maybe I do good things with it.”

“Do you?” I asked, realizing he was right. He stilled for a minute so I could think straight. I bit my lip, realizing sheepishly it was odd to have this conversation with his fingers in my vag. He nodded, his grin turning feral again and I knew I was in the best kind of trouble. My breath hitched as he began to move his fingers, strumming that sweet spot until I was squirming. “T-tell me what you do,” I tried to say, my thoughts beginning to resemble scrambled eggs when he began flicking my clit with his tongue.

“Well,” he said, between teasing licks and sucks, “I donate gobs of fucking money to a youth football recreational team in my hometown so they can have new uniforms, helmets and shit like that. I also offer a scholarship to anyone who wants to play who doesn’t have the money for the registration fee. All they have to do is apply and they’re approved.”

That was so fucking sweet but I didn’t have time to marvel or even apologize for being a judgy jerk because he sucked my clit and I lost my mind.

I came so fast I was almost crying, begging him to stop.

I couldn’t take much more pleasure. I’d never experienced anything like this. I wanted to curl up like a cat and sleep for days. My bones felt like soup.

But it was amazing.

I suddenly understood all those memes that talked about dangerous dick.

Oz had that kind of dick — the kind that made a woman do all sorts of stupid shit, like give up a career, have babies, look the other way when he’s having affairs.

That was the

splash of reality I needed. Struggling to rise, I scooted up and moved away, pulling the comforter up, I covered my breasts at the very least and tried to stay focused but Oz’s rock-hard cock was pointing at me and my mouth was watering for a taste.

As if sensing my thoughts, Oz hooked his hand around the back of my neck and kissed me hard. I tasted myself on his tongue and I melted, the blanket slipping from my fingers. Oz fell back and I followed, climbing his body until I straddled him, settling my hot slit over his already sheathed and hard cock.

I rubbed my pussy along the length of his shaft, groaning as I dragged my super sensitive clit against his flesh and wondered when I’d lost my fucking mind. He

“You’ve never had a girlfriend longer than a month,” I said, groaning as I sank down onto his length. I waited for my body to accommodate him and then slowly began to rock against his shaft, moaning with each thrust.

He guided my hips, enjoying the view of our bodies melding together, his voice strained, “Because none of them were you,” and I realized that was the best fucking answer ever.

We fucked hard and fast as if the world were ending. This time, he came first and I followed. I cried out and fell forward, collapsing against his chest, his cock still buried inside me as the breath rattled from his chest in one long, exhausted but sated sigh.

I rolled off him to find my water. After a large gulp, I shared with Oz. He finished off the bottle and fell back against the bedding. I joined him. This time, I laid against his chest, snuggled into the cove of his shoulder, exhausted and quiet but it didn’t last. My brain never shut down for long.

“Did you mean what you said?” I asked.

“I always mean what I say.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

I took a moment to digest that. “Just because we’re good at sex doesn’t mean we’re meant to be together,” I said, frowning. “We’re opposites, you know.”

“There are somethings that you have to take on faith.”

I frowned. “Are you religious?”

“Not that kind of faith. It’s a gut feeling. Something I feel here,” he rubbed his stomach lightly, then moved to his heart “and here.”