Page 18 of Hotter on Ice

“Holy fuck,” he muttered, letting her go.

Alya inhaled deeply, her mind still reeling from kissing, touching, wanting so badly. “The room. Let’s go back to the room.”

Henning was silent for a moment, and then he nodded. He straightened her clothes and arranged her snowsuit over her shoulders, his touch almost gentle now. He zipped up his own snowsuit a bit, hiding his erection, and then picked up her gloves and the rest of his gear off the floor.

His eyes were filled with that guarded lust he had looked at her with for so much of today. She waited him out, watching him, wondering if he’d speak his thoughts aloud. He swallowed, working his jaw, and he ran his free hand through the short bristles of his hair.

Then he rested it on her face, cradling her cheek with his big palm. He took a ragged breath, and then his mouth was on hers again. His lips stroked hers with more finesse this time, but that edge of longing and need was still there.

“Whatever you want from me,” he whispered. “Take it.”

CHAPTER FIVE

FORONE,HOTKISS, Henning hadn’t held back. In that quiet locker room, with Alya up against the wall, her body flush with his, he let himself react, let her feel how deep his want ran. Because the twist in his gut as he watched that man—a man who was everything Henning wasn’t—touch her and smile at her? That was a real reminder that she would never really be his. That chasm had opened inside, exposing deep fissures, and all the buried want and need flooded out.

Neither of them had said a word since they left that little locker room. But now, as the door to their hotel room clicked shut and she came to a stop in front of him, they were on again, for real this time. He stepped up close and slid the top of her snowsuit off, guiding it down her body. He got on his knees, easing the material over her ass and down her legs, tracing her curves with his hands.

“Hold on to my shoulders,” he said softly.

She held on, balancing herself as he lifted one foot to tug her boot off, then the snowsuit. He moved to the other side to pull off the other boot, her hands warm on his shoulders. God, it felt good to take care of her. He got to his feet and hung up her snowsuit on the hook next to him. Then he stilled as he took her in, dressed in thermals and a soft white sweater. With that searing kiss still licking flames through his body, everything else was fading except the need to give her what she wanted.

He was going to give her a place to let down her guard, to indulge in her own wants. Over the last three years, he had learned a lot about Alya and the way she quietly shouldered the weight of her family. The way she’d supported her sister financially at age eighteen, taking care of Natasha when her mother was too distracted by the drama of her own life. Alya had even sacrificed nursing school so that Natasha could go to college. This was a woman with an enormous heart, and Nick Bancroft had taken advantage of it.

Of all the reasons for Henning to drag himself out of his self-imposed years of seclusion, this was the strongest: he would give her whatever she needed for a few days. And if that meant his cock and his mouth, then hell, yes, he’d give it to her.

He shed his own outer layers and then stood behind her, closer. His thermal layer did nothing to hide his erection. He couldn’t resist pressing it between her ass, the urge to have her growing stronger.

Henning brushed her hair to the side and pressed his lips on her neck. “You have the sweetest scent. I could do this all day long.” He caught her earlobe between his lips, and her breath hitched. He took a long inhale and groaned. “You want to know what I’ve been wondering?”

“Yes.” She turned her head toward him, looking over her shoulder, and her blue eyes were electric, shining, alive.

Fuck, he was so hard right now, his cock pushing against the fly of his boxers, hard to ignore. Her voice was a siren’s call, so he answered it. “I want to find out if you smell just as good between your legs.”

Slowly, Alya turned around, her eyes hot and intense on him, and his body was on fire, overheating in all the layers of clothing. His blood pounded through him, an unrelenting chant.Mine. Mine. Mine. Henning swallowed. No matter what he felt, this was a game for her, and he wouldn’t forget it.

“Are you at all cold right now?”

She shook her head. Good. He wanted to kiss her, but he held back, knowing how easy it would be to lose himself the moment it began. Not yet.

“You’ve been watching me all day. Now I want to undress for you,” she said, her voice huskier. “And while I take my clothes off, I want you to stroke yourself. Pleasure yourself while you watch.”

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned as a shudder of pleasure rolled through him. Henning closed his eyes, pulling himself together. Then he slowed his breathing and looked at Alya again.

She smiled and took a step back. Another. Her eyelids were heavy, her dark lashes falling over the endless blue of her eyes, and her smile transformed into something so clearly seductive.

“You ever look at photos of me?” she said, her voice luring him into this game.

Holy hell. His body was already fully there, but his conscience was pricking at him. They were veering into murky territory, territory he had spent three years trying to resist: his fantasies about her, fantasies he shouldn’t have had about a client. So he had pushed them deep down, letting the frustration fuel his determination to protect her from afar. Until now.

She wanted them, and fuck, how he wanted to give her everything she asked for.

“Yeah, I looked,” he whispered, testing her reaction. “You like that?”

Her eyes lit up. “A lot.”

Oh, fuck, this was hot and dirty and so, so good, andshewas asking for it. He reached his hand inside his thermals and his boxers and palmed his cock. Her eyes followed his movements, and her pulse ticked hard at the base of her neck.

Alya took the hem of her sweater and pulled it over her head, leaving her in a layer of tight, gray thermals. Her nipples poked out of the material, and she toyed with one. No bra. His cock was leaking, so he spread his precum on his palm and gave himself a stroke as he watched her pleasure herself.