Page 45 of The Cheerleader is Off Limits

He’s on me a second after I finish coming down, his lips pressed against mine as his dick, which surprisingly does not feel soft, rubs against me. “You came like that, and you can go again already?”

“Something about you,” he groans into my neck. “You make me fucking insatiable. I could fuck you for the next week, and it wouldn’t be enough.”

“I want to watch what you filmed,” I tell him, grabbing his discarded phone from the bed and handing it to him. He scrolls to where he started taking pictures and hands me his phone before moving to sit behind me on the bed. He pulls me so my back is resting against his chest before he grabs my legs, putting them behind his thighs to completely open me up. Cool air hits my still hot wet flesh, reigniting some of the aftershocks from my orgasm. His fingers slowly drag down my body before two fingers press hard on my clit.

“I want to feel how wet you get when you see how hot you are,” he growls low in my ear before his lips drag down my neck, and I gasp when I see the first photo.

He’s standing over me, my head between his legs, and my tits on full display. In the first photo, my leg is bent, so you can’t make out much between my legs. But in the next photo, my leg is down, giving a clear view of my pussy. I scroll through, going through pictures of just my tits, my pussy, and a few of only my neck and his thighs. The photo is sexy and erotic without actually showing anything.

“Your body is so gorgeous. I love touching it. Tasting it.” He bites down on my shoulder before soothing the sting of his teeth with his tongue. His fingers are still playing with my clit as I swipe to the next picture, and I gasp when it’s one of the videos, which is a very up-close video of his mouth against my pussy.

“God, that’s hot,” he moans, rubbing me harder. “Look how wet you are.” I watch in fascination as he opens me up with one hand and drags his tongue slowly along my slit before swirling around my clit.

“Fuck.” I breathe as I slowly begin rocking against his hand. “I want to come.”

“I want that too.” His other hand, not between my legs, snakes up and grips my breast, toying with the nipple and pressing me hard against his chest. I swipe again, and now I see a photo of him standing up, and while you still can’t see my face, you can see his cock half out of my mouth.

“Goddamn,” he groans. “I want to frame that and hang it somewhere in here.” I swipe to the next one, which is a closer shot where you can even see my lips and chin glistening with spit and maybe some of his leaked cum.

“I’ve never…” I whimper as I feel myself nearing the edgeagain.I swipe to the next, which is a shot of his hand wrapped around my throat. I don’t even remember that happening, butthe look issohot. His tattooed hand is wrapped around my throat, while just beneath, his dick is stuffed in my mouth. It’s a little more covered than the other photos, but you can still tell what’s happening, and the hiddenness of it makes it even hotter in some ways.

My eyes dart down, watching as that same inked hand rubs at my clit, and then I fuckingloseit.

Later that morning, I’ve showered and put on my clothes from last night to head home. Luckily, my aunt and uncle were staying in DC for the night, so there were no questions about my whereabouts, and Delaney knew I was finally hooking up with the hot guy from the plane. I’m walking slowly down the hallway before heading downstairs, eyeing the pictures on his walls that are mostly of his nieces and nephew. I see a picture of him at what looks like his college graduation, next to who I assume are his brother and his parents. He looks so happy and carefree and hot, and a pang of sadness hits me that I couldn’t have met him later in life.

Or that we were closer in age.

Thoughts of meeting him in college, falling in love, getting married right after undergrad, having a family, and going through life together come at me hard and fast, and I feel the disappointment over this terrible timing.

Right man, wrong time.

But maybe, he’ll understand? I am still nineteen, soon-to-be twenty, and I am only still in high school because of how I’ve spent my childhood.

In a perfect world, I am a freshman in college, and I don’t have to end things in a week.

Maybe I don’t…

No, Sloane, you definitely have to end things.

You cannot get away with dating this man while you’re in high school.

I groan inwardly, feeling myself struggle with the thought that my time with River is coming to a close.

Especially after how fucking hot last night and this morning were.The space between my legs still feels sore and sensitive in memory of where he’d been.

I make my way down the stairs and toward the sweet scent of syrup and coffee.

And he cooks?

I walk into the kitchen in time to see him sliding a Belgian waffle onto a plate, all while wearing a tight white T-shirt that highlights his very biteable biceps, and when he moves to grab a mug from the cabinet, I notice that he’s in gray sweatpants as well.

Because of course, he is.

“Well, you are certainly pulling out all the stops,” I say before leaning against the island.

“Hey, beautiful,” he says, and my heart flutters slightly at the gesture. He closes the space between us and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead and then my lips. “I know you have to go, but I was hoping you had time to let me feed you.”

“I do.” I nod before sitting on one of the barstools that line his island.