Page 70 of Ice King

“Then I’d say you were wrong. That’s what I intend on doing with you.”

His deep voice created an even more intense throb between my legs, the ache in my pussy incredible. In feeling so free with him, it was almost like I could wipe out the last few years as if they’d never happened.

As soon as I rubbed my lips across his, all movement stopped. I wanted nothing more than to taste him, taking my time to explore as he’d done with me. With every inch of him hot to the touch, as soon as I captured his mouth, I shuddered visibly.

The term hot-blooded had an entirely different meaning when a shifter was involved.

The kiss was sweet at first, tasting him and noting he’d indulged in whiskey before my arrival. As soon as I swept my tongue inside, he tried to take control by sucking on the tip but I pushed back, breaking the kiss altogether.

“What am I going to do with you?”

“I can provide you with a solid dozen suggestions.”

“I see I should have brought the duct tape.” I brushed my fingers down his chest while continuing to slide further down his chiseled body. Every indentation of his muscular features held a story, hard work and genetic success.

In other words, he came from good genes. I knew that to be true.

His breath continued to hitch, his eyes darkening with every passing second. I enjoyed toying with him, creating the sametype of intense, insane need he’d done with me. I also enjoyed being in control. However, I was facing a problem. My hunger was increasing exponentially, leaving me aching all over and my pussy drenched.

With his eyes more hooded, I could read every thought in his brilliant mind. Bending over, I continued to knead his abdomen, trying to be very careful with pressure and touch, but I noticed he didn’t seem to be in any pain.

At least not because of cracked ribs.

As I pressed my lips against his chest, darting my tongue across his heated skin, he shifted back and forth. All that accomplished was pushing his tented cock between my ass cheeks. The powerful man certainly knew how to turn a girl on.

I shifted further down the length of him until my desires became overwhelming. When I slipped my fingers under the elastic of his sweatpants, he chuckled as if knowing I was losing the control I’d demanded. He certainly didn’t know me that well. When I made up my mind to do something, I carried through.

The time I took to slide the soft material down his legs had the effect of driving him crazy. His hands flexed and fisted in frustration, but to his credit, he was doing everything in his power to obey my command.

For now.

The two little words lingered in the back of my mind. He was merely biding his time. When I reached his feet, I contemplated leaving the material as a different form of shackling him.

Ford wasn’t interested in playing all my games, kicking them off so I was provided with a full view of his gorgeous body. No man should be so handsome or have such a huge cock.

But here we were and right now, this man belonged to me.

My, wasn’t I suddenly possessive?

As I rubbed my hands along the insides of his legs, moving slowly toward his thighs, he kept his head lifted so he could pay close attention to what I was doing.

Driving myself nuts. That’s all I was managing to do.

The way he responded was delicious, as if every inch of him was on fire just like what had occurred the night of our wild passion. Beastly wild. The thought brought a chuckle, which in turn brought an inquisitive look on his face. Every inch of his body was stiffer, his breathing hitched.

The fire in his eyes indicated he was becoming unraveled.

And a body language suggesting if I wasn’t careful, soon I’d be writhing underneath him with no further control allowed.

Not that I would mind.

“What are you laughing at?” he dared ask, refusing to follow the rules.

“At the fact I think this is the first time the arrogant yet sexy rockstar of a hockey player has been undone.”

“This is undone?”

I nodded very slowly as I rubbed the flats of my hands along his inner thighs, using my thumbs to continue teasing him into submission. Every time I swiped the rough pads across histesticles, they seemed to swell even more. “Are you suggesting I continue proving my point?”