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I said yes and the following night he took me to the cheapest burger joint in town. It impressed me because he didn’t care how different we were. It didn’t matter to him that I had money, and he didn’t; he wasn’t trying to impress me in ways that didn’t count. Instead, he leaned on his charming personality and our mutual love of hockey.
I met the love of my life at ten, though I didn’t love him until we were sixteen.
Willa once asked me if I’d known then how my life would take shape, if I’d have still agreed to that first date with Cillian Wylder.
“Yes,” I’d answered her with a confident nod. Despite it all, yes.
ISLA
THREE YEARS LATER
“How does it feel to be the second all around pick in the NHL draft, Wylder?”
“It doesn’t even rank compared to being inside you, Isla,” he grunts as he thrusts into me. It’s been a long, long two days with the draft but we’re finally back home in Seattle. Regardless of how exhausted we are, he couldn’t wait to get me undressed as soon as we walked through the door of our condo.
Cillian has always been insatiable since we first lost our virginity to each other at sixteen. It didn’t happen right away; we’d been dating for months before the subject even came up. Neither of us felt rushed or pressured about it. But once we did take it that far, it opened a floodgate on his libido.
And mine.
Cillian isn’t a selfish lover, nothing like what I expected after hearing other girls talk about sex with their boyfriends. Never once has my boyfriend finished before me. Hell, he practically makes a game out of seeing how many orgasms he can give me before his own. Competitive even with himself.
We’re in his favorite position; him propped up against my headboard, my knees on either side of his hips while he pumps them up into me. When he really needs the connection with me, this is how we start. Cillian says he likes to watch my face, but I know he also likes the easy access to my pussy and breasts. Regardless, this is how he makes love to me. As opposed to post game sex which is more just adrenaline rush fucking. Not that I don’t love that, too.
“You’re so beautiful, Isla. I don’t tell you enough,” he says, one hand cupping my cheek as the other weighs my breast.
“You tell me all the time.” I laugh, and he doubles his thrusts. “Oh god.”
“Don’t argue with me.” He lifts me off his dick. “Get up here,” he says, beckoning me with his chin as he guides my core to his mouth after scooting his body down into a lying position.
When I picked out this bed, I didn’t consider how often I’d appreciate this upholstered headboard being both comfortable for cushioning my head banging against it as Cillian rails me, and for times like now when I can grip it as I ride his mouth.
Cillian moans at his first taste of me, his tongue dipping in when his fingers spread me apart. My hips sway with a slow rhythm at first, picking up pace the more enthusiastic he gets. Gripping my ass cheek in one hand, he pushes the fingers of his other into my pussy, all while his mouth focuses on my clit. In seconds, I’m exploding on a scream, eyes blurring at the edges.
“Fuck, I love how you taste,” he says, still lapping up my release.
“You tell me that all the time, too.”
“Reminders of how perfect you are never hurt,” he tells me, once again maneuvering me into the position he wants me.
“Spread wider for me, Isla,” Cillian commands, bringing me out of my orgasm brain fog. I make room for him between my legs, and he wastes no time slamming his hard cock back inside me. “Give me that mouth.”
I arch my neck up to mold my lips against his, and he grips the back of my neck with his large hand to remove any discomfort. Holding me, he kisses me deeply until he’s fully spent inside me.
Pulling my legs up over his hips, I lock my ankles around his lower back and my arms around his shoulders.
“I’m proud of you, Cill.”
“Wouldn’t be here without your advice,” he mumbles into my neck, making me laugh.
“I just gave you a simple pointer at the age of ten. You did all the work.”
“You gave me simple pointers every summer and I took each one as a mission. Don’t sell it short.”
“Whatever, Superstar.” I press a kiss to the top of his head that rests on my chest.
“It’s going to suck being so far away every season.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I promise. His contract is for three years. I have two more years of school here in Seattle.
