22. Jeremiah

Chapter 22

Jeremiah

I wake to the soft caress of Oakley's breath against my chest, her body curled into mine like she was made to fit there. Trailing my fingers along the delicate curve of her spine, I savor the warmth of her bare skin.

Last night's memories flood back in vivid detail—the desperation in her eyes as she confessed her feelings, the taste of her lips, the velvet heat of her cunt stretching around my cock. A possessive growl rumbles in my throat. She's mine now officially, branded by my touch, her innocence devoured by me and my feelings for her.

She stirs, her thick lashes fluttering open to reveal those piercing blue eyes that have haunted my dreams for years. A soft whimper escapes her lips as she shifts against me, no doubt feeling the lingering ache from the way I fucked her.

Claimed her.

"Good morning." My voice is a low, gravelly purr as I brush the tousled blonde locks from her face. "How are you feeling?"

A rosy flush blooms across her cheeks, those plump lips parting in that irresistible pout. "S-sore," she whispers, unable to meet my gaze. "But…good. Really good."

Chuckling, I tilt her chin up to hold her captive with my stare. "You were incredible last night, bunny. So tight, so fucking perfect for me." I lean in, nipping at the tender flesh of her throat. "The way you took every thick inch like you were made for it."

She trembles against me, those tantalizing little breaths fanning across my skin. I can smell her arousal, sweet and musky, mingling with the lingering scent of sex from last night.

Oakley melts into me, her nails raking down my arm as she whimpers into the kiss. I could drown in her, the scent and feel of her surrounding me until I can't breathe anything but her essence. Growling, I roll her beneath me, pinning her deliciously small frame with my weight as I grind my already throbbing dick against her slick heat.

She gasps, her back arching as I trail scorching kisses along the graceful column of her neck. "Jeremiah." My name is a breathless plea on her lips, driving me to sink my teeth into that spot where her neck meets her shoulder.

"I know you're sore, baby," I rasp against her skin, rocking my hips in a slow grind that has her writhing and panting beneath me. "But I can't get enough of this perfect little cunt." Reaching between us, I brush my fingers through her dripping folds, reveling in the way her eyes flutter and her lips part on a broken moan.

With a wolfish grin, I guide the thick head of my cock to her entrance, catching on that plump rim before easing just an inch inside her. Oakley keens, her nails scoring lines down my back as I fuck that same inch in and out of her.

I pull out and slide the underside of my cock between her two lips, letting her wetness provide for us as I use her body for my own.

"That's it, baby," I growl against the swell of her breast, laving one dusky nipple with my tongue. "Gonna fuck you anyway I can."

We're both trembling and slick with sweat, as I rain openmouthed kisses along her collarbone and the tops of those perfect tits.

"You feel so goddamn good, Oakley," I grate out, fighting the urge to start pounding into her with reckless abandon. "Like you were made to take my cock."

She whimpers, her thighs quivering on either side of my hips as she tries to grind up against me. "Please…" The broken plea has me shuddering, my control stretched to the breaking point.

With a rumbling growl, I hook my arms beneath Oakley's knees and push them up toward her chest, spreading her further open for me. Her back bows off the mattress as I rut between her legs, my cock head catching on her entrance every now and then as I dip into it just a bit. Her eyes rolling back in her head as her mouth drops open on a broken wail.

"That's it, bunny," I snarl against the slick skin of her calf, nipping at the tender flesh. "Take what I'm giving you. Every…fucking…bit." I punctuate each word with a brutal thrust, savoring the way her tight little cunt flutters and clenches around me, desperate to feel me bottom out in her and fill her hungry little snatch with my cum.

Oakley's hands fist in the sheets, her head thrashing from side to side as I ruthlessly chase my own orgasm, using her body for my selfish gratification. But I know she's loving every second, her cries spiraling higher and higher until they're broken sobs of bliss .

With a growl that damn near sounds inhuman, I brace my weight on one arm and reach between us to rub tight circles over her swollen little bundle of nerves. Oakley's back bows almost unnaturally, her mouth dropping open on a shrill scream as her orgasm slams into her with the force of a freight train.

"coming for me so good, baby. I'm gonna give you all of mine now."

Her cries, her nails digging into me, and the flutter of her cunt's spasms around my cock is my undoing. Snarling like a feral beast, I notch myself at her entrance once more and let go, my release tearing through me in hot spurts that seem to go on forever.

I watch as I paint her with my cum, some of it dripping out of her puffy little pussy and the rest of it covering her. I let her other leg go and then I scoop some of it up and shove it back into her abused hole before rubbing the rest into her pussy and upper thighs.

Fucking marking my girl.

For long moments, the only sound is our harsh pants and the thundering of my pulse in my ears. Slowly, I peel myself off of her, rolling to my side and gathering her pliant form against me. She burrows into my chest with a contented sigh, her eyes drifting shut as I trail my fingers through her sweat-damp hair.

"I know you said you don't want to do the lessons anymore," I murmur against the crown of her head, "and that's fine. We don't need the guise of them, but a deal is a deal, and I'm still going to protect you from anything and everything. So, you'll be in my bed every night from now on. No arguments."

Oakley stiffens slightly, those captivating blue eyes flicking up to search my face. I meet her gaze steadily, letting her see the implacable resolve burning there. I won't be denied, not when it comes to her.

To her credit, she doesn't flinch from my dominance, that small spark of sass flickering behind her eyes. "Sure, pretty boy," she murmurs, a teasing lilt to her tone.

Growling, I nip at her plump lower lip, delighting in the way she shivers. "Such a brat," I chide gruffly. "But you're truly mine now."

We lay together in bed for another hour as I trail my hands through her hair, down her back, over and over. Only interrupted by the occasional kiss I place on the top of her head as she swirls her fingertips across my chest. Drawing random patterns that only she can see.

Eventually, the real world can't be ignored any longer. With a weary groan, I force myself out of the tangled sheets and Oakley's arms to grab clothes out of my dresser. I can feel her eyes tracking my movements as I dress, searing a path over my skin.

"Where are you going?" she asks, propping herself up on her elbows to gaze at me with doe eyes.

"Practice," I grunt, tugging my shirt over my head and trying not to focus on the delicious way she looks in my rumpled bed, all tousled hair and kiss-swollen lips. "Coach will have my ass if I'm late again."

Oakley's brow furrows into an adorable pout that makes me want to drag her back beneath the sheets and never leave this room. "Do you have to go?" she asks, her voice taking on that breathy, needy tone that has become my undoing.

"Baby." She knows I do and if I could skip it I would.

"Cough, cough. I think you're sick. Let's take your temp." She's so fucking cute at her attempt at trying to get me out of football practice.

Gritting my teeth, I force myself to grab my duffel bag and head for the door before I give in to the temptation writhing in my bed. "I'll be back as soon as it's over," I toss over my shoulder. "Don't go anywhere."

Her soft laughter follows me down the hall. "Yes, teach."

By the time I reach the practice field, I look down at my phone to check the time and see I'm actually going to be on fucking time. Maybe even early. Thank fuck, because I did not want to hear Coach bitching at me. He does enough of that with Lincoln and Penn.

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I almost don't hear the raised voices carrying across the empty field. Frowning, I slow my steps, straining to make out the words over the pounding of my pulse from my trek across campus.

"…getting out of hand, Robert." Coach's gruff tone is laced with a weariness I've never heard from the hard ass before. "Your boys are a nightmare to deal with, and their behavior is becoming a serious liability."

"Those ‘boys' happen to be the best players on your pathetic little team," a familiar, oily voice sneers. My jaw clenches at the sound of my father's disdain. "You're lucky to have them, you insignificant prick."

"Enough!" Coach's bellow makes me flinch, a growl rumbling in my chest. "I don't give a fuck how much money you throw at this team. Your sons are completely out of control, and I'm at the end of my rope with dealing with their bullshit with this fucking school! "

My brow furrows as I inch closer, peering around the corner of the equipment shed to see Coach squaring off with my father. Robert Blackwood is leaning back against the brick wall, his expression one of bored disdain as he examines his nails.

"Are you quite done with your tantrum?" he drawls, those cold eyes flicking up to pin Coach with a look of utter contempt. "I don't pay you to whine about disciplining my boys. That's your job. If you can't handle it, I'll find someone who can."

Coach's face is mottled with rage, his fists clenched at his sides. For a moment, I think he might actually take a swing at my father. But then his shoulders slump in resignation, and he shakes his head with a bitter scoff.

"You know what?" he grits out through clenched teeth. "Fuck you, Robert. I'm done putting up with your bullshit, Blackwood. Get your sons to keep their shit under lock and key, and this wouldn't even be a problem."

With that, Coach storms off into the field, his heavy footsteps fading into the distance. For a long moment, my father remains utterly still, his expression unreadable. Then his lip curls into a cruel sneer.

"Idiot," he mutters, shoving off from the wall and straightening his suit jacket. "People don't tell me what to do. I simply end them."

Rage boils through my veins at his callous dismissal. Coach has been with the Spartans for years, pouring his heart and soul into this team. And my father just cast him aside like a used rag as if he hasn't made me and my brothers better football players.

Before I can stop myself, I'm storming out from behind the shed, my footsteps heavy on the grass. "What the fuck was that all about?" I growl, glaring at the man who spawned me.

Robert's eyes narrow as they land on me, that familiar look of disdain curling his lip. "Jeremiah," he sneers. "I didn't realize you were here. Eavesdropping again?"

"Where else would I be? Didn't realize I had to hide from my own father," I shoot back, shoving my hands into the pockets of my shorts to keep from clenching them into fists.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he turns on his heel and starts to walk away. "I don't have time for your teenage angst right now. Go run laps with your idiot brothers and stay out of my business."

"I'm fucking twenty-one now, not that you remember shit about any of us. Not unless it's something you need from us."

Robert freezes, his spine going ramrod straight. When he turns to face me again, his expression is as cold and implacable as a slab of granite. "You don't know what the fuck you're even talking about. I don't care how old you are, if you act like a teenager then you are one."

"Jeremiah!"

The bellow cuts through the tension, both of us whipping around to see Coach storming back across the field toward us. His face is thunderous, a vein pulsing at his temple.

"What the fuck are you doing just standing there?" he roars, jabbing a meaty finger toward the track. "Get your ass out there and do your sprints with your goddamn brothers! I'm tired of dealing with all these fucking Blackwoods!"

He turns that furious glare on my father, his shoulders squaring like he's bracing for a fight. "And you," he growls, "keep your nose out of my practices. This is my team, and I'll be damned if I let you keep undermining me in front of my players! "

To my shock, Robert doesn't rise to the bait. He simply levels Coach with a look of pure loathing before smoothing his hands over the lapels of his suit jacket. "We'll see about that," he says in that soft, deadly tone that has always made my blood run cold.

Then, without another word, he's brushing past me, the scent of his expensive cologne making my stomach churn. I watch him stalk away, that familiar sense of dread pooling in my gut.

Whatever shit my father is trying to pull, none of us are going to come out unscathed.