Shit.I scramble upright. The window rattles. I stifle a scream. The last thing I need is for my dad to come running up here and see one of my players—that I just got done promising I wasn’t going to sleep with—in my bedroom window.
Go away,I mouth.
Fletcher ignores me, jimmying the window open and leaping inside more gracefully than a man his size should. His skin glows in the soft light of my Rudolph bedside lamp.
“Get out! You can’t be here! What if my dad sees you? Did anyone see you? Did you sneak into my house?”
“You didn’t lock your window.”
“I was thinking about the game tomorrow—”
One of those huge hands materializes between my tits, shoving me back on the bed, and I realize I’m not going to be able to concentrate until I know what he looks like when he comes.
“Oh my gosh, I told you,” I croak, wriggling under him, which only makes his nostrils flare and his eyes go dark. “I’m not sleeping with a player.”
He takes in the disheveled state of my clothes and the slickness on my fingers then grabs my hands, eyes still locked with mine, and twists my fingers in his mouth, closing his eyes while he licks them clean.
“You were thinking about me.” The soft, thin fabric of the chemise slides up easily over the mounds of my tits.
“No I wasn’t. I was thinking about Alexei Vidic.”
Wrong thing to say.
His mouth crushes to mine. “Fuck”—he bites my lower lip—“you.” One huge hand slaps my ass then tangles in the panties. The lace scrapes against my thighs as he pulls them down. “You aren’t going to be fucking him. I don’t want you bending over for him or even thinking about him.”
I shudder as his mouth moves down to my tits, teeth catching the soft underside of my breast as his fingers meanly push my legs apart. They brush the candy cane, slick with my pussy juices. The corner of his mouth twitches. “Dirty little slut.”
“I’m not! I don’t know how that got there!”
But Fletcher claps a hand over my mouth. “I knew you were a little cock slut. Candy Cane.”
He takes it out of my hand and lets it hang by the bow on the crook of his finger. He unwraps the cellophane with his teeth.
“You can’t—” I moan as he rubs it along the length of my slit, the peppermint tingling.
I grab at his hands. “That, uh—”
“I thought you wanted me to eat your pussy. You don’t want to make it nice and sweet for me?” The end of the candy cane teases the opening of my cunt. “You’re so fucking horny you’d fuck this instead of me.”
He twists his body, flipping over onto his back and bringing me with him. Hands dig into my hips and haul me up so I’m hovering over his face. “I’ve seen you on the ice. I know you have good core strength. Ride my face,” he orders.
I still have a child’s bedroom, and there’s no headboard to grip onto. He’s right—I spend a lot of time on the rink, and it’s nothing to sink down on his face.
I feel his mouth, his tongue, his lips. His fingers trail up to grip my tits as I ride his face. Then the candy cane is back. Sticky streaks of bright red are all over my chemise.
I suck on it as his tongue works in my pussy, licking up the sticky sugar until I’m coming hard, rocking against his rough jaw, riding the orgasm out.
He grabs my hips, rotates me quickly, and brings me back down as I squeal, slapping my ass when I make too much noise. Then his tongue is all over my pussy, dipping in my opening where I want his cock then up to flick at my asshole.
“Shit!” I try to scrabble away.
As I balance on the rock-hard plane of his abs, he has one leg propped up on the bed. If I had any wherewithal, I’d move—but it’s all I can do not to moan and freak out my parents as he eats my ass.
I bite down hard on the candy cane as his tongue plunges inside me, the crunch reverberating through my jaw. His thumb rubs my clit and pussy raw until he has me coming on his face again.
“Fuck me,” I whimper as the chills of pleasure leave me. “I need—”
“You need a cock,” he whispers, his mouth back, hot, on my pussy.
