I Hate Football Players 3 | 18+

Chapter 67: Ellie

The soft lines of warm friction his fingers drew over my skin raised goosebumps up my inner thighs. I groaned softly when his large palm added pressure on my core area, then again when he threaded his fingers under my hood and stroked at his leisure. Tension and ache built up in my pelvis, then leaked out while he strummed and rolled my now slicked skin folds between his fingers. Combined with the warmth that radiated from his hand and how his palm trapped in the heat of my arousal, my core area felt engulfed in a near suffocating level of heat.

"You're like a freaking furnace," I grunted out at one point.

"But I'm your freaking furnace," he teased the tip of his index finger inside me, then circled around my entrance, then repeated the movements. The shallow, gentle dips inside me tensed the muscles in my hips that ached for deeper contact.

"Hmm, is that why you told ESPN that you're off the market?" I lifted my hips, then rolled onto my back and looked up at him. Once my thighs dropped open wider, the blue in his eyes darkened around dilated pupils while his finger pushed deeper inside me.

"What did you call it?" He lifted his chin slightly and looked up at the ceiling like he searched for an answer, then leaned over and pressed his lips against mine softly between each word. "Tagged - and - bagged."

My lips froze momentarily at the same level of softness in his tone, before I found my snark, "That's right." I hooked my closest arm behind his neck and tugged his lips down to mine.

With his apparently infinite amount of patience, Logan's lips moved just as slowly as his finger's movements. Thankfully, when my lips parted and I tugged a few strands of his hair between my fingers, he deepened our kiss. With one push, he slid his tongue into my mouth, then tasted and stroked mine gently. As a low groan erupted from the back of his throat when I responded with similar movements, I shuddered against the slight vibrations against my lips.

What morning breath?

We moved together, unbreaking our kiss, as I stroked my tongue against his and squeezed my eyes tightly shut. My lips tingled from the raw, guttural groan he released as he broke off. A smile briefly pulled across my lips, until my heart lurched down into my stomach when he pushed two of his fingers inside.

Internally, my walls throbbed and compressed around his fingers as he curled and massaged them into the sensitive nerves and ridges that swelled up against an incoming orgasm's pressure that ached my whole pelvic area for release. As tension mounted in my body, I pressed my forehead against the slightly rough texture of Logan's chin. Like I'd learned every morning, he smelled slightly of perspiration but thankfully his soap scent washed over anything more unpleasant.

Logan's shoulders flinched when I reached down, pushed my hand under the elastic waistband of his underwear, and gripped the base of his erection tightly. I laid at a horribly awkward angle, half underneath Logan but flat on my back, so I only held my grip on him like a support handle.

A sting of pressure clenched my core with pleasure when Logan pinched his thumb on the top of my clit and, like he'd poked a hole into my dam of resistance, trembles preceded my climax. I bucked my hips gently against his finger strokes until a warm wetness coated my outside.

After he gently withdrew his fingers, Logan strummed them over my core area again and painted my outer folds with my own arousal. My heart thumped in my ear drums as I rolled onto my side and slid his underwear down with my free hand and stroked over the smooth, hot skin on his shaft until the head glistened moist with precum.

The harder I fisted my hand up and down, Logan's chin pressed harder into my forehead. His breaths turned warmer and uneven the more my hand worked him over. Right when a pulse throbbed into my palm, he groaned and grabbed onto my wrist.