Page 69 of Punked By the Playmaker
What I wasn’t expecting was to hear him curse under his breath. “Dammit.”
My lust-soaked brain couldn’t comprehend what could possibly be wrong.
But then he spelled it out for me.
“I don’t have a condom.”
Relief hit me with the force of a tidal wave. While it might be a dealbreaker for most, there was no need for us to stop due to a lack of contraceptives.
“It’s fine,” I panted. “I’m clean, and I can’t get pregnant.”
Levi was quiet for so long that I dared to glance back at him. His brows were furrowed, his lips turned down in a frown.
“Arizona, if there’s even the slightest chance . . .”
“There’s not.”
He didn’t seem totally convinced. “You hear about miracles happening for women suffering from infertility every day.”
I swallowed thickly, the pain of my past rearing its ugly head. “It’s not that. Trust me when I tell you there’s zero chance.”
The man looming behind me pulled in a deep breath. “Okay.”
Almost like a switch was flipped, all traces of concern vanished from his face, and once again, he became the smoldering sex god who could get any woman—minus me—pregnant with a single look.
His grip on me tightened a split second before he pushed inside with a single roll of his hips, and a deep moan was pulled from my chest.
God, his dick was the perfect thickness—just enough to feel full without the burn of being overstretched.
I was on the verge of sensory overload from penetration alone.
Then he began to move, and I about lost my mind.
Each drag of him along my inner walls sent sparks of electricity shooting through my nervous system, and within minutes, my throat was raw from screaming.
With my hearing muted, I couldn’t quite make out whatever Levi said through what I could only imagine were gritted teeth.Honestly, I was too busy holding on for dear life, trying to survive the onslaught of pleasure created by our two bodies crashing together. If I was drowning in ecstasy now, how the hell would I survive the climax?
The rhythmic rolling of Levi’s hips didn’t cease as he bent over me, gripping a fistful of my hair and yanking my head off the mattress.
“Shut up,” he grunted hot in my ear.
A moan spilled from my lips, the sharp sting of my scalp putting me right on the edge.
“Shut the fuck up!” he roared, this time collaring my throat and giving a firm squeeze.
My mouth opened and closed wordlessly, black spots dancing across my vision as the blood flow to my brain was restricted.
“Listen to what I do to you.”
He gave another fluid roll of his hips, plunging in so deep that he hit my cervix before withdrawing and repeating the action. I was so wet that each thrust produced a lewd squelching when he bottomed out.
Levi groaned. “Nothing hotter than hearing you splash all over my cock.”
I reached back, clutching at his head, holding him to me as he drove me higher and higher. A fist of pressure coiled low in my belly, tightening until I was a sobbing, shaking mess, begging him to let me come.
His slams grew stronger, hitting the perfect spot on repeat, and I shattered, my cry of completion so loud it echoed off the ceiling. Levi kept pounding into me, extending the waves of pleasure that rolled over me, until his thrusts grew jerky, uneven, and he came with a shudder, his face buried in my neck.
We collapsed onto our sides, chests heaving as we tried to catch our breath.
