“Hey!” he protested. “You know I can’t come in this position.”
“That’s right,” I whispered. “This is all for me. You need to stay angry. If you want me to make you come, you have to win your match tomorrow.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“Yeah, I’m a son of a bitch, but I’m the son of a bitch who’s plowing your hole.”
Beneath me, Cameron bucked and thrashed like a stallion trying to throw me off him. I rode him like a rodeo cowboy, getting deeper and deeper with each thrust. Exhilaration surged through my body like electricity.
“Bite me again,” I commanded. I pushed my left thumb against his lips.
Brawley moaned and swallowed my thumb, sucking it for an instant before he bit down.
“Harder,” I said. “Yeah…harder…hard—MOTHERFUCKER!”