His Tight End

"Sweet Lord," I groan, hands still at my side.

"Touch me," she demands. In an instant, my hands roam her hips, ass, and back. My shorts might well catch on fire only to be doused by the wetness of her juicy pussy. She kisses me, and something in me snaps.

"Enough," I growl. Standing with her in my arms, she squeals and grips me tighter. I move over to the bed, laying her down gently on it.

After removing my shorts, I move over her. I kiss her neck before moving to her lips. "I can't be gentle right now, Sasha. I need you too much. I've never been with anyone else. Let me take you bare."

"Take me," she moans, and I let out a groan of sheer relief and ecstasy as I slide into her cunt slowly. Pushing past her innocence, I pause, giving her time to adjust before I make her mine forever.

Chapter Four

Sasha

“Fuck. Your pussy is so tight. You’re mine now, Sasha,” he says, his voice strained.

“I’m yours,” I moan. He stops moving, much to my dismay.

“And, I’m yours. You are the one and only woman I’ll ever know like this. Like man and wife.” Is he saying what I think he’s saying? Is he a virgin too? It just doesn’t make any sense to me, but of course, I believe him. It just doesn’t jive with what I thought professional athletes were all about.

“Man and wife? That’s insane; we’ve only just met,” I say though I don’t actually think that.

“What difference does that make? I know you feel this between us. It’s already grown to epic proportions. Tell me you feel it, that you know what I mean?” He groans as I flex my inner muscles around him. I am antsy for something. Completion. Anything.

“I feel it. I wouldn’t have done this if I hadn’t, but surely you agree it’s crazy to go all in this quickly.”

“It might be crazy, but I don’t give a fuck. You’re mine now, Sasha.” I can’t help but giggle at his words, but when he moves within me again, it turns into a keening moan. He leans down, and our tongues dance, and our bodies move together as one. If it were possible, I’d get even closer to him. My nails dig into his shoulders before he suddenly pulls out of me, moves, and lifts my right leg into the air, my knee at my ear, before he slams back into me. Then something amazing happens, and I swear I can hear colors, or something as equally intense and insane.

“Oh my God!” I scream at the top of my lungs as my body convulses in pure ecstasy. He yells my name from somewhere seemingly far away, and I can’t breathe. There is no air going to my lungs as I hyperventilate. I open my eyes, unsure of exactly when I closed them, and see his piercing green eyes looking down at me.

Instantly, I know that I am in love with him and that I will love him until the second I die. If I’m lucky, we’ll still get to be together after that. Suddenly, I imagine a lush paradise where we can be together for all eternity while I catch my damn breath. You’d never know that I am an athlete with how much I am struggling to breathe right now.

Eventually, I do catch my breath, and he’s long since pulled out of me and pulled me to his side, where I am lazily running circles over his chest.

“You’re not saying anything,” he whispers into the now dark room. How long did I lay in that stupor? Is it always going to be like that?

“Hmm?” I ask.

“You haven’t said anything in close to an hour. Are you sleeping?”

“An hour?” I ask, sitting straight up. I wince as absolutely everything in and on my body hurts. Even my hair touching my cheek is slightly too much.

“Yeah. I even left the bed, and you didn’t move or seem to notice. Did I hurt you?” he asks. His voice is quiet.

“What? No, of course not. I loved it. I… got lost after. Lost in paradise.”

“Lost in paradise?”

“I can’t explain it.”

“I like that. Lost in paradise. It’s apt.”

“Thanks,” I say, chuckling a bit.

“Come to my bed. We’ll sleep,” he says.

“This isn’t your bed?”

“No. It’s the guest room. I thought you’d be more comfortable in here earlier. Now, you aren’t leaving my side.” I smile. Why do I like the sound of that so much? He gets up, and I do the same. My legs are wobbly, but I eventually manage to remember how to walk. I follow him to his bedroom like a lovesick puppy because let’s face it, that’s precisely what I am, but I’ll be damned if I say it first.

“I need my stuff from my hotel,” I say, thinking how awkward it would be to show up at practice wearing the same thing I had on yesterday, especially when people surely noticed that I left with Brandon. “I could take a rideshare over and come back.”