Page 53 of Puck Tease
Knowing he was watching—knowing he was jerking off to the sight of me bouncing on Jax’s lap—sent a bolt of lightning through my system, sparking in my core. My cock, already semi-hard, rubbed against Jax’s stomach, sandwiched between our sweating bodies, the friction building.
Jax leaned back against the cushions, his eyes fixed on my face, watching my every reaction. He looked triumphant, a king displaying his most prized possession to the court.
"Who owns you?" Jax demanded, driving deep, hitting my prostate with a jolt that made me cry out.
"You do!" I sobbed, my voice raw.
"Who's the only one allowed inside?"
"You! Only you!"
Jax’s gaze shifted to Tyler, making direct eye contact with his teammate while he was buried deep inside me.
"Hear that?" Jax said to Tyler, his voice sharp with possessive pride. "Only me."
Tyler groaned, a low, guttural sound of pure agony and arousal. "I hear you. Fuck."
Jax ramped up the pace. He abandoned the slow, deliberate grind for a hard, fast pounding, bouncing me on his lap, his hands bruising my hips with their relentless grip.
"Cum for me, Tom," he whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my lobe. "Show him."
He reached between our bodies, his hand finding my cock. He wrapped his fingers around it, stroking me in time with his thrusts.
It was too much. The sensory overload—the audience, the absolute possession, the relentless friction, the combined strokes—it ended me right there.
"Jax!" I screamed, my voice tearing.
My control snapped, coming hard and messy, shooting all over his chest and chin, a hot, sticky release. My internal muscles clamped down on his cock like a vice, milking him.
The sudden, intense tightness sent Jax over the edge.
He roared, his hips bucking up off the couch, slamming me down one last time. He unloaded inside me, hot and deep, filling me to bursting while Tyler watched, a silent, panting witness.
A second later, I heard a sharp, choked gasp from behind me. Tyler came.
The room went silent, save for the ragged sound of three men breathing hard and the mindless chatter of the FIFA announcers on the TV.
I collapsed against Jax’s chest, utterly ruined, my face buried in the sweat-damp skin of his neck. I smelled his musk, the heavy tang of sex, the faint, metallic scent of cum.
Jax held me there, his hand rubbing slow, possessive circles on my back.
"Good boy," he murmured, his voice rough.
He looked over my shoulder at Tyler.
"Clean yourself up, Ty," Jax said, his voice calm, returning to its normal timbre. "And get out. Practice is in the morning."
I heard Tyler shuffling, the distinct sound of a belt buckle *clinking* as he refastened his pants.
"Yeah," Tyler rasped, his voice still thick. "Yeah, okay. See you, Cap."
He stood up. His footsteps moved toward the door. He paused, his presence a heavy weight in the doorway.
"Tom," Tyler said.
I didn't lift my head from Jax’s shoulder.
"Nice game," he muttered, then the door closed with a softthud.
