The Rules We Break (The Alphaletes Book 4), page 12
My hand comes down to the side of her ass, causing her pussy to squeeze me on impact.
“Will I ever be able to fuck you without you running your fucking mouth?”
“Probably not,” she says, her eyes fluttering closed as my thrusts become more frantic.
“Eyes on me, Raven. I want to look into those cosmic eyes when you come on my cock.”
They fly open at that through the mirror, holding my gaze as she reaches between her legs, her hand moving in quick movements over her clit.
“That feel good, baby? You like touching your pretty pussy while I fuck you from behind?”
“Mhmm,” she says as her eyes flutter closed again.
“Eyes,” I command, forcing her to spring them open yet again.
Just like every time, as soon as she does, my pulse jackhammers in my veins. Fucking hell, they’re like magic or some shit.
“Just like that,” I praise. “Good girl.”
“Trev,” her voice gasps as I adjust my angle, rubbing the head of my cock against her G-spot.
“That’s right. Say my name. Let everyone know who is buried deep inside you right now. Who has you bent over, bare and raw, fucking the shit out of you while your date is waiting at the table for you to come back?”
“Douchebag award goes to you,” she laughs as it shifts to a moan.
“Dirty bitch award goes to you then, I guess,” I smirk as I smack the side of her ass again.
She grinds against me, nodding her head as she meets my movements thrust for thrust. I feel my balls begin to tighten as that familiar tingling sensation at the base of my spine builds. My pace increases, desperate with the need to fill her up.
“I want you to remember this. When he’s trying to slide between these sweet thighs tonight, just remember who made you feel this full, this good. No one can fuck you like I can, Raven. You know it, and so do I. So when you’re done playing with your little toy out there, come on home, and I’ll give you another round,” I say before pushing her hand out of the way and rubbing her clit, my forefinger and thumb pinching it just right and causing her to scream out her release.
The walls of the bathroom practically shake as she squirms and screams, wiggling beneath me as my cock pulses before emptying inside her. I give her every fucking drop, letting my cum fill her to the brim before my movements eventually slow.
Our breathing is heavy, foreheads dotted with sweat, as I slowly pull away. I push my cock into my pants, but before Sage can pull her dress down, I’m bending down behind her, running my hand between her slick thighs. I feel my cum leaking down her legs and flatten my tongue before licking her from behind, pushing my cum right back where it belongs.
A breathy moan escapes her as I continue licking her before I add a couple fingers, massaging her G-spot as I do. When I go to stand, Sage is watching me with intense intrigue, and I can’t help but feel like a fucking king for somehow temporarily silencing this loudmouth woman.
Lifting my cum coated fingers to her lips, I nudge against them as I look down at her.
“Open.”
Her mouth parts slightly, just enough for me to push my fingers inside. Her tongue meets me greedily, wrapping around my digits as she licks and sucks every drop of our combined release.
Goddamn it. She may be fucking infuriating, but she is so fucking sexy.
“Good girl,” I say before running my other hand along the side of her jaw, outlining the length of her throat as she swallows.
Without another word, I pull away from her, turning toward the bathroom door before unlocking it and slipping out. She doesn’t try to stop me, and I wouldn’t even if she called out to me. I did what I came to do, I think at least. I’m still not exactly sure what led me here to begin with. I’m sure Donatello will take her home tonight. She may even fuck him. But I have no doubt it will be my cock she’s thinking about, and our cum she’ll be tasting.
Sage
When I finally am able to shake off the orgasm-induced haze, I stumble out of the bathroom and back to my table. I tried to clean myself up as best as I could, but I can still feel Trevor’s cum inside me, and I fucking hate how turned on that makes me.
As I sit down, Jackson smiles up at me. Not in a sweet doting way, more like a wolfish ‘I’m going to devour you’ way. A way that before Trevor and his airheaded bimbo walked in, had me more than ready to ride his cock until the sun came up. Now, despite the fact Jackson is definitely more my typical speed, I can’t get those bright blue eyes out of my head. That clean un-inked skin. The almost threat in his voice as he told me all I’d be able to think about was him. And I’m pissed that the motherfucker was right.
We finish up our dinner, and Jackson pays the check quickly before placing his hand on my lower back as he ushers us out of the restaurant. When we get to the street, he starts guiding me toward his Mercedes G-Wagon parked in the corner lot. I do my best to push the annoying, privileged, entitled, blond quarterback out of my head and focus on this tall, dark, and tattooed sex-on-a-stick of a man in front of me.
Instead of opening my door, Jackson backs me up against the door, caging me in with his thick corded arms. I smirk up at him, knowing what comes next and more than ready to get this night rolling. His lips come down to my own, a little softer than I had anticipated for him. Like, a lot softer. Like almost too pillowy, soft, and squishy. This kiss is like we are in a bad rom-com movie or something.
The feeling of his full lips is actually a little disgusting. Like two wet marshmallows sticking to me against my will. Oh my god. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a horrific kiss before. Pulling away from my mouth, he begins kissing down my neck, leaving a sloppy wet trail in his wake. Oh god. This is fucking gross. How can this guy have been alive for twenty-four years, and no one has told him what a terrible kisser he is? Nope, nope. Can’t do it. As much as I’d love to fuck Trevor’s little stunt right out of my system, I’m not willing to sacrifice myself in the process.
I slide out from under his caged in arms, giving him what I hope is a sympathetic smile.
“Thanks for dinner. I had a great time.”
He blinks his eyes slowly, as if he’s clearing his lust-fueled haze.
“Wait, what?”
“I have to get going. Travel day and all for the game tomorrow, right?”
Jackson frowns as he takes a step closer to me.
“I thought you were coming over. Spend the night or something?”
I feel bad at the true disappointment on his face, but then I remember the feeling of his almost slimy lips on me, and my sympathy wanes.
“Rain check? I’ll see you tomorrow on the plane,” I smile as I turn on my heels and high tail it out of there.
Once I round the corner, I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth. God, that’s just not even fair. The way that man oozes sex appeal, he should be a lot more skilled than that. I think I should just be thanking my lucky stars he didn’t try to use his tongue.
I shiver at the thought, unlocking my car quickly before sliding in. It doesn’t take me too long to get back to Trevor’s house, and when I step inside, I notice almost all the lights are off apart from the glow of his bedroom light under his door. I’m not stupid, I know why he’s up so late despite the fact that our plane leaves at six in the morning tomorrow.
He wants me to go in there. He wants to know that I couldn’t continue my date because of our little romp in the bathroom. What he doesn’t know is that isn’t at all the case. That I had every intention of screwing that memory right out of my head. Unfortunately for me, I chose the wrong guy to do that with.
Though I’m more than a little sexually frustrated and would love nothing more than to finish this night off with an orgasm or two, I know I shouldn’t. If the balance of power tips, he will be the one in control, and I don’t play like that. I’ll never let a man have control over me again.
Reigning in my self-control, I turn in the opposite direction and head toward the room I’m staying in, locking the door for good measure. Whether to keep Trevor out or me in, they are both good options. After I go through my nighttime routine, I climb into bed and close my eyes, irritated when the first image that pops into my head is that familiar handsome face staring at me in a bathroom mirror.
My alarm goes off too fucking early, and as much as I want to turn it off and roll over, I know I have to be at the game to get some more content, and if I miss the team plane, my ass will be paying for my own later flight. That’s not happening.
So, I slide out of bed, take a quick shower and do a bare minimum blow dry before deciding to just throw my hair up into a messy bun. Maybe I can get a few more hours of sleep on the plane since we’re flying all the way out to Philadelphia today.
I grab the bag that I had the good sense to pack before my date last night and my purse before heading downstairs. When I come to the bottom of the steps, I hear the blender going off and see Trevor manning it in the kitchen. He’s in street clothes. Just a pair of gray sweatpants and a Seattle Crusaders T-shirt that is wrapped around his body like a second skin. I try not to let my eyes drop but c’mon, gray sweatpants. It’s like he’s trying to get the attention of every woman within a twenty-mile radius.
And he would too. Trevor Michaels fills out anything well, but gray sweatpants are my new favorite thing to see him in. He sees me staring at him, which sucks because a cocky grin falls across his face as he winks at me.
“Morning, Raven. How’d your date go?”
“Great,” I lie. “Sorry if I woke you. Got in kinda late,” I say with a yawn that’s not all that fake. It’s just not from a night of being fucked against the headboard like I had originally planned.
Trevor stops the blender, pouring two smoothies before sliding one to me. I frown at the gesture before nodding my head in thanks. Trevor lifts his own cup to his mouth as he takes several gulps before running his tongue across his lower lip, though I don’t know why. It’s not like there’s anything spilled on them.
“Really? Would you consider eleven late for a date?”
I go to argue and more so lie that I got in much later when he raises his phone and waggles it at me.
“High-tech security system, remember, baby? I watched you pull in last night.”
Cheeky fucker.
“What, were you sitting by your phone, just counting down the minutes until I pulled up?” I fire back, causing his cocky grin to slip away, as irritation flashes to the forefront of his features.
“I definitely have more important things to be doing than waiting around for you to get done with a subpar fuck.”
God, if only he knew how true his statement no doubt is. Not that I’d ever give him the satisfaction.
“Like track down where I’m at and bring a fake date to keep an eye on me?” I say with a raised eyebrow.
Trevor scoffs and rolls his eyes as he takes another drink of his smoothie.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“No, what’s ridiculous is that every time I laughed or smiled in Jackson’s direction, you looked like you were ready to have a coronary.”
I set down my smoothie and take a step toward him as I continue speaking.
“What’s ridiculous is that when I get up to go to the bathroom, you follow me like a territorial dog.”
Another step.
“The most ridiculous thing is how you bent me over that bathroom counter, nothing but pure jealousy and irritation on your face as you fucked me.”
“Jealousy?” he scoffs like it’s the most insane statement he’s ever heard. But he doesn’t deny it which makes me take a final step to him, pressing my chest against his as I tilt my head up and smirk.
“You were jealous last night. Jealous I went out on a date instead of staying in and riding your cock. You were jealous I was giving my attention elsewhere, and you needed to steal it back in the most petty way possible.”
I expect him to deny it, to push me away or scoff at me like he loves to do. Instead though, he pushes his body even closer to me, lifting his hand to cup my chin as he tilts up just slightly, those bright blue eyes boring into me as he speaks.
“It got you home, didn’t it? You didn’t sleep in Donatello’s bed. You were in mine, not the bed I would have preferred you in, but one of mine all the same. If you didn’t already know this, you do now. When I want something, I take it, and I make no apologies for how I get it.”
I don’t know what to say to that. Mainly because I feel like there is more being said than what his words convey, but I’m not too sure that I want to know what they mean. So instead, I swallow and nod.
“I could tell.” I laugh, though it doesn’t come out as smooth and confident as I was hoping.
His eyes flare, but the rest of his expression doesn’t change as he speaks.
“Good.”
As if the building tension between us suddenly dissipates, he takes an easy step away from me, grabbing his smoothie and the packed duffle bags at his feet before nodding toward the car.
“Let’s go, Raven.”
I grab my smoothie and bag before following him out as we load our things into his Range Rover and make the quick drive to the airport. We don’t say a word on the car ride there, and barely acknowledge each other when we get inside the plane. Trevor is ahead of me and walks straight to the back where Slater, Declan, and Sebastian are sitting. All who smile at him, well, except for Sebastian.
My eyes scan over the rows before landing on Jackson who gives me a disinterested sneer. Okayyy, looks like someone is a little salty about last night. If I was a bigger bitch, I’d tell him the real reason why I couldn’t get away from him fast enough. Lucky for him, though, I’m tired and a little disoriented from this morning’s encounter so instead, I take an empty window seat near the coaching staff and roll up a sweatshirt against the window before closing my eyes.
Sage
The boys just got back from halftime, and the score is sitting pretty close at 13-7. The Philadelphia Cougars are one of the best teams in the league. They made it to the playoffs last year where the Crusaders fell short. Things seem to be different this year though if preseason is anything to go off.
I watch with rapt attention as the ball is snapped, tossed easily into Trevor’s hands before he scans the field like the professional he is. There are several options for him, but the Cougars seem to be blocking off nearly every offensive man. Trevor’s eyes cut to the right to see Sebastian create some distance from his defender.
Trevor pitches the ball, sending a perfect spiral through the air. It looks high, though, too high. He overshot it. There is no way Sebastian can—
With a catch so solid you can practically hear it from the other side of the field, Sebastian reaches his arms up high, snatching the ball right out of the air before tucking it to his chest. Fucking alright then. I guess that’s what having a 6’6” tight end is good for.
Sebastian’s legs stretch out far, eating up the distance to the endzone. He’s definitely not our fastest guy, I think that title is reserved for Slater, but he is by far the tallest and definitely has the longest legs so he can still cover some distance.
Several guys chase after him, but it’s no use, he makes an easy touchdown, slowing down only once he’s crossed over that white line. All the guys come together in celebration, jumping and patting each other on the back. I can’t help but watch as Trevor comes up to Sebastian, reaching out to pat him on the back to which Sebastian quickly steps out of his reach and jogs over to the ref, leaving Trevor standing there frankly like an idiot as the rest of their team line back up into formation.
A pang of sympathy runs through me as I watch Trevor’s disappointment. He tries to shrug it off, jogging back, but I can see it in his body language. The strained relationship between him and Sebastian hurts him. He knows what he’d have to do to fix it. He can’t let her go, though. Even when he knows she’ll never be his again. Even when he knows Sebastian has every right to hate his guts for wanting his wife. I still can’t help but feel that there is more to the story. I mean, it’s very possible that Sebastian wants nothing to do with him because he’s still in love with Erica, but at the same time it feels like something actually happened. A line was crossed or something, something bigger than some angsty love triangle drama.
I shake my nosy thoughts out of my head, scooting to the side for a better angle as I squat down and begin filming the next play. You never know when you’ll catch something legendary, and though we could always grab some stuff from the streaming of the game, fans seem to be responding well to the first person perspective of the game, like they are here on the sidelines experiencing it.
Two more touchdowns from our team, one by Slater and the other by Jackson and three brutal sacks by Declan, and the game ends. I start packing away the camera and get everything ready to head back to the hotel. Normally the team would head back home after a game, but since this was a later game the team decided to stay in the hotel one more night.
I’m more than okay with it because my back is killing me, and my tits are sore. Unfortunately, that combination can only mean one thing. When I get back to the hotel, I take a long hot shower, change into some comfy clothes only to find out, yep, I was right. The red sea is running, which means it’s officially bitch season for the next three to five days. Thank God I had a few tampons floating around in my purse for emergencies.
Why is it that as soon as you recognize you’re on your period, all the symptoms seem to hit you at once like a freight train? Is it a mental thing? Like your brain allows you to feel it all now. Or does it force you to? Like a placebo thing? Either way, I don’t give a fuck. I just want it gone.
I curl up into a ball in bed, holding my stomach tightly as I mindlessly stare at my comfort show. I swear my vagina is trying to punish me for not giving her a child. Like the dramatic psycho bitch she is apparently, no child means an endless painful blood bath.
