He keeps one hand on my back and I feel his other on the inside of one of my thighs, pulling it so my legs are apart. Then I feel him behind me, completely naked. His legs press against mine, and I can feel his cock slide against my ass as I wait for what comes next.
“So ready for me. Are you willing to admit you’re mine yet, CC?” he asks, his voice hoarse. A million butterflies move in my stomach at his words. He’s been pushing and pushing for me to give him this. I haven’t. I want to say it out loud because inside I know it’s true, but I just can’t seem to.
“Stop talking and start fucking,” I growl, but break off when his hand connects with my ass. Fire lances through my body. “Gray!” I yell, but he spanks me again. I breathe through it as his hand connects again. “What do you think you’re doing?” I ask just as another one is delivered.
“You’re mine, CC.”
“I’m not…” I start to deny it, but the words refuse to come out. In the end, I whimper as his hand slaps my ass again. Somewhere while he delivers his punishment, it changes from pain to… an added pleasure.
“You are mine, CC. Your body knows it, you know it. You just need to admit it,” he whispers against my ass as his tongue moves over the hot, tender skin. His lips place small kisses along the spots he has spanked and his hand moves down to find my pussy. “You’re so wet for me. I think my Cooper likes being spanked.” God. He’s right. I’m soaked and I’m aching to have him inside of me. “Your pussy is holding onto my fingers so tight, it’s going to break them,” he groans. His fingers move in and out of me, hard and fast. Gray’s right. I’m clenching my muscles so tight on his arm trying to keep his fingers exactly where I need them to come. I’m riding them with all that I have, needing to come so bad, I’m almost mindless.
Suddenly, he takes his hand away. I try to rise up and complain but he keeps his hold solidly on my back, forbidding me to move. Then all at once, I feel the head of his cock sliding in the slick cream at my center. I can feel him at my opening and I whimper, needing him to push inside, to end this torture. When he does nothing, I all but snarl. “Gray! Stop torturing me!” My demand is met with a tight laugh, but even through it, I can hear the need in him.
“I don’t have a condom. Are you going to let me fuck you raw?” he rumbles behind me as just the tip of his cock presses inside of me.
“Damn it, Gray,” I growl because he’s been trying for a week to get me here. He thinks I’m being crazy, and a part of me thinks I am too. My whole life, no one sticks around though. Even people who care about me leave. Banger left. He may not have meant to, but he did. Letting Gray in completely is opening myself up to more pain, and I don’t think I can handle the pain that would be associated with losing Gray.
“Tell me, CC,” he growls.
“Yes, damn it. I want it too,” I growl, trying to ignore the tear that falls from my eye. It’s not because of what we’re doing; it’s the fear of losing Gray… because I might love him.
All thought flees when he thrusts inside of me completely. When he sinks all the way in, he holds himself still. I feel his body stretched over me, his breath near my back. I close my eyes and memorize the feel of him everywhere—the feel of him inside me. Proving how well Gray knows me, his next words grab ahold of me and do not let me go.
“Don’t be afraid, CC. I’m here, baby, and I’m going nowhere,” he whispers. His hand pets my back before tangling in my hair. Then his other hand reaches around and zeroes in on my clit. He begins slowly manipulating it with his fingers and then starts setting a slow pace with his body.
He fucks me slow and steady and the emotions are thick, my breath stalling in my chest when I hear him moan and feel his hot cum pour into me.
“Never letting you go, baby. Never letting you go…”
His words are the last I hear before I completely fragment into a million pieces with the largest orgasm I’ve ever had in my life. My entire body shakes and I squeeze my eyes shut. Then I bite my lip to keep from begging him to promise me he’ll always stay.
Please, God, don’t let him be lying…
“Cooper? Where are you? I have something I need to run by you!” I yell, coming through the hotel room. I don’t know how I’ve managed it, but somehow I’ve kept CC with me for two weeks. We’ve traveled through Nebraska, Arizona, and North Dakota. Now we’re in Mississippi. I’ve won each of the courses—and rather easily. What’s even better is that the press has been following me more and more. In fact, last tournament, more fanfare showed up in North Dakota to watch me work my magic than actually showed up for some of the premiere tournaments and talent. I don’t really give a fuck. However, it does mean one thing: Now the assholes in charge have set up a dinner with me. They’ve talked to Seth and they want me onboard in Hilton Head next week. Seth’s urging me to play ball. I want to say I don’t give a fuck. The truth is, however, that the competitive side in me realizes these tournaments are where the real talent are. The men who eat, drink, and sleep golf. The men who leave it all out on the green. In my career, I’ve had one motto: To be the best, you have to play the best. That competitive drive is what got me this far and I can’t ignore it now.