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“I haven’t had a single thought that didn’t include you in months.” My hand slips to her belly. I can span the entire width of her body with my fingers outstretched. Fuck, she’s tiny. I knew that. I’m hyper aware of every part of this woman, but sometimes she seems bigger in my mind. Her fire, her personality, her. It expands to fill any space it can. I’m achingly aware I could hurt her if I’m not careful.
“Please,” her hands slip to the collar of my shirt, tugging in all different directions, too pleasure-drunk to get me undressed. I sacrifice my palm on her belly and reach over my neck to pull it off one-handed. Her fingers are on my skin before it can join my shoes and her dress on the floor. I groan, leaning into her touch. Her skin is chilled as her fingers slide over the curve of my pecs, threading through the fine hair on my chest. Her nails scrape my nipples and my hips rock into hers.
My control is in tatters. I have maybe three good pumps before it’s game over.
“Tristan.”
She pulls my mouth down and pushes her tongue past my lips and I lose myself in her taste, her smell, her feel. She’s everything I hoped she would be, and nothing I could have ever imagined. My hand slips down her stomach again, fingers dipping below the band of her panties. Blue today. Blue lace. I love her in blue. She traces the lines of my abdominal muscles, counting out the six ridges, and my cock twitches. He’s been hard since I walked into her apartment. Now he’s weeping into the soft cotton of my team joggers.
Who the fuck am I kidding? He’s been hard since Vegas. Hard since I passed a tiny puppy into her cautious arms. Hard since she walked right into my chest that first day in the head office. Maybe the first time Coach introduced her and warned us to play nice.
“I’m gonna make you come,” I say and give her zero-point-two seconds to say ‘no’ before I push my hand down and cup her pussy against my palm.
She’s soaked, dripping between my fingers and if her panties were off, I think there’d be a puddle on her countertop. It’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever had the honor to discover. My kitty cat is as hot for me as I am for her. And I’m desperate, mouth parched like a man stranded in the fucking desert for weeks. I let my fingers trace her opening before circling her clit. Her hips buck, her tits shake with each gasped breath, her fingernails bite into my skin. Touching her is equal parts heaven and hell. She’s every fantasy I didn’t even know I had, and I know I’ll never get enough. Not even if I live three hundred lifetimes.
Her eyes meet mine, bright but clear. “Do it,” she growls, and I slide two fingers into the scalding heat of her cunt.
Her inner muscles flutter around me. Tight and hot and so wet I might embarrass myself. I curve my fingers, looking for that spot along the front wall of her pussy. Her hips grind into my hand and there… I press the tips of my fingers against the rough flesh, and she keens, her walls clamping down as she comes hard.
Nothing has ever felt like this. Nothing. Not getting my Junior’s letter, or getting drafted. Not my first NHL goal, or my first hat trick. Not the first time I was the first star of a game. It’s better than my own orgasms, watching my girl come on my fingers. Even better is the soft smile spreading across her face as she blinks up at me, holding onto my biceps as if she’ll fall if she lets go. She won’t. I wouldn’t let that happen.
“Well, Victor Varg, you certainly live up to expectations.”
I can feel the flush rising up my neck, and I can’t help dropping my chin to my chest and letting out a bark of laughter. Fuck, she’s amazing. She laughs with me and I let my gaze soak in the sight of the faint lines around the corners of her eyes, the wide curve of her mouth, the shine of her teeth. She hasn’t seen anything yet.
“Set them higher and I’ll do it again.” I yank her back into me, letting her feel my aching dick. Honestly, it’s a wonder I can form words or even think straight at this point. Her panties mold to her cunt and my mouth waters. “But first I’m going to eat this pussy until I’m fucking full, Tristan.” She shudders, biting into her bottom lip and my voice goes hoarse. “Then I’m going to do it again before I feed you my cock, inch by damn inch, until you are.”
The fucking vixen. She raises one blonde eyebrow, slips a hand down the front of my pants to fist my erection through my underwear, and bites her teeth into my obliques. I cup the back of her head, drawing her even closer just as she lets go and looks up at me from under her dark lashes.
“Yes, captain.” She says with a wink, and my brain whites out as I lunge to suction our mouths together, her hands letting go of me to shimmy out of her panties. “But you already made me come, so I want to suck you first.”
This time I have to fist my cock myself, gripping the base tight enough to halt the sudden and imminent release. That wasn’t what I’d meant when I said I’d feed her my dick. I imagined looking into her icy eyes as I guided myself between her legs. I hadn’t imagined, hadn’t dared even think, about her lips closing around my shaft and sucking me into her throat. I won’t make it to the grand finale if we try that. I won’t. I know my limits, and this will end me. I’ve been waiting too long for her.
I haven’t had an orgasm that didn’t come from my hand since… well, since before my brother met Quinn. Since I first stepped foot into the main office to sign some paperwork and meet the head honchos, and clapped eyes on a tiny blonde tapping away on her phone. Even before I knew who she was, I wanted her. And apparently nobody else.
I’m in over my head. I need to get my mouth on her now. Two or three more orgasms and coming the minute I push inside her tight pussy won’t be as mortifying. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll let us do this again. And again. And again and again and again. Not that I think the edge will ever come off. Not with her.
Tristan reaches for my pants again, and I circle her wrists to stop her. I can feel the fine bones under my grip, and I loosen my hold. I don’t want to hurt her. I just need to maintain some semblance of control.
“No,” I say in the voice I use on Spags and Pelé when they’re being complete idiots.
“No?” She tries to pull back, but I don’t let her do that either.
“If you get your mouth on my dick, this is going to be all over, baby. I’ll come down your throat so fast I’ll drown you.”
She licks her lips. “Yes, please.”
Demon.
My brain glitches again and she takes advantage of the momentary weakness in my grip to reach for my drawstring.
“Tristan.” I regain my hold and pull her wrists up to my chest. “Kitty cat.” I press my forehead to hers. “Baby, I want to feel you come on my cock and drag me over the edge with you. The first time, at least. I’ll let you suck me off as many times as you want after that.”
Our gazes hold for a heartbeat. Two. Three. Then she nods, slipping her hands up to twist in the hair at the nape of my neck. I thought I was just about ready for a pre-playoffs haircut. But now I want it longer. I want to feel her grip and pull as she comes apart in my arms.
I kiss her again. Lost for eternities against her mouth. I twist my tongue around hers and we trade breaths back and forth. I could live forever in this moment. Right here with the taste of my…
Fuck.
