Page 85 of Double Puck

"Beck…"

She gasps as I kiss her again, deeper this time, and somewhere between her hands sliding beneath my shirt and mine sliding her skirt over the flare of her hips, everything changes.

The frantic fumbling slows enough for me to actually feel what I'm touching, and when Darcy's clothes finally join mine somewhere on the floor, I guide her down onto the mattress and push myself up over her naked body.

I stop moving as my eyes take in the sight beneath me.

Holy fucking shit.

I've imagined this.

Jesus Christ, have I imagined this.

I've imagined Darcy naked beneath me in the shower, in bed, in the locker room once during a particularly boring video review that nearly resulted in an extremely awkward conversation with Travis Campbell.

But none of it comes close to the sight I'm looking at right now.

Her dark hair fans out across the white pillow, her cheeks flushed the perfect shade of pink that creeps down her neck and onto the tops of her breasts, rising and falling with every shallow breath.

And her tits.

Jesus Christ, her tits are a masterpiece in their own right. They're soft and full, demanding my attention like they’re made for my hands, my mouth, my worship. Her nipples are peaked already, tight and dusky, begging to be sucked, licked, and fucking bitten.

Goddamn.

But it’s her stomach that completely wrecks me. It's the most damn alluring curve, with a subtle softness that has me clenching my fists to stop myself from devouring her whole.

Holy shit, it’s fucking perfect.

Smooth and so damn lickable, the slight dip of her navel calling to my tongue like some goddamn beacon of temptation. She doesn’t look like a model; she looks like a fucking woman. With soft dips and curves, her body radiating heat and sex appeal in a way I’ve never seen before.

Every inch of her is an invitation to sin, and fuck me, I’m about to RSVP.

But just as I lower my head to taste her sweet breasts, her hands start to move, and I see she's starting to cover herself.

"Uh-uh." I catch her wrist gently and bring her hand back down to the mattress. "Don't you dare."

"I can't help it." Darcy freezes, a look of shyness flickering across her face. "You're staring."

"Yeah." I don't even attempt to deny it. "I've been imagining this for weeks. But sweetheart? Your body. Your skin. All of you. Please, just give me a fucking minute to admire you."

Her mouth twitches, but she leaves her hands where they are.

I lower myself to her face instead, kissing the corner of her mouth, slowly following the warm line of her throat while her fingers relax and slowly slide into my hair as I work my way down, kissing her throat, the swell of her breasts, eventually taking a nipple into my mouth.

I suck hard, and she moans beneath me.

"Oh, Beck."

I roll my tongue over the pebbled peak, reaching for the other one and pinching it between my thumb and finger.

This isn't the pool anymore.

There isn't a mansion full of people who could walk outside. There isn't an office door someone could knock on, or a game tomorrow, or a fucking trade threat sitting between us.

And there isn't that look she gave me on the pier when I asked if she knew something I didn't.

Because she does.