[18+] ENEMIES TO LOVERS SPORTS ROMANCE
She can't stand the school's golden boy, but when fate keeps throwing them together, their rivalry starts to look a lot like chemistry-and suddenly they're not playing the game they thought they were.
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Tristan
I woke up to something tickling my nose, annoying the hell out of me. I groaned and turned my face into the pillow, rubbing my nose against the soft fabric to alleviate the itch. Once the itch subsided, I grunted and tightened my hold around the warm, soft body in my arms.
A wave of vanilla and strawberries washed over me, and I couldn't resist burying my face in the curve of her neck, inhaling deeply. God, she smelled fucking incredible.
Gently, I pressed my lips against the sensitive area behind her ear—where her scent was most intoxicating. A shiver ran through her, followed by a sleepy, breathless moan. A small smile curved my lips as I felt her body conform to mine.
As long as she didn't start hurling insults at me again, we were good. This was definitely one of the better dreams I'd had of her.
I traced a path of light kisses down her neck, savoring the warm silk beneath my lips. My right hand moved from her waist to palm a handful of heated, supple flesh, a hard nipple poking into the center of my palm. Squeezing gently, I enjoyed the soft weight in my hand.
I knew when I had a pair of tits in my hands. And these were nice tits—not overly big, but the perfect handful.
Still cupping her, I tightened my hold around her, pressing her ass into me as the soft curves of her backside molded to my hips like a puzzle piece. My eyes nearly rolled back into my head when she arched her back and wiggled her ass into me, grinding and rubbing against my morning wood. I couldn't help the involuntary thrust in response.
Every day since I was a teenager, I'd woken up with a hard-on. None as painful as this morning.
I left her breast to grab hold of her hip so that I could guide and control her movements, pulling her back into my small thrusts. Back and forth, I rocked her hips, my breathing picking up as all of the blood pooled in one area. If this went on much longer, I was going to come in my pants.
Fuck. This felt good. Too good to just be a dream—but there was no way this wasn't a dream. She'd never let me do any of this if it were real.
I needed to kiss her. Each time, she denied me, and each time, I was left mad with the need to finally taste her. Maybe this time would be different, I foolishly told myself.
"Babe, I need you to turn over." My voice came out as a low rumble, thick with sleep and arousal.
"Hmm?" She gave a sleepy moan, and my dick jerked in response, buried in the valley of her ass.
I pressed my lips against her exposed shoulder. With my chin resting there, my eyes slowly slid open, and I took a moment to lazily admire her.
Her eyes were closed, and her golden hair was spread across the pillow, framing her face like a tangled halo. Light streamed in through the gaps in the curtains, and the strands seemed to glow in the soft rays. My fingers itched to touch them, to feel their softness. To fist them as I fucked her seven days to Sunday.
