Page 164 of Slapshot Baby

“I don’t want you to be gentle.” Her voice has dropped low. “I want you to fuck me with everything you’ve got. I want to feel you for days.”

I pause, searching her face.

Is this another “just bodies fucking without any emotions” episode?

But before I open my mouth to speak. She moves closer, hips rolling in a slow circle that makes my cock throb.

“And I will give you everything I’ve got,” she whispers. “Every wet, aching part of me. No holding back.”

Every nerve in my body lights up. I’ve been careful with Ava in bed while dreaming of a night exactly like this with both of us stripped raw, emotionally present, fucking like the world is ending.

“Are you sure?” I palm her ass hard, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and pull her flush against the thick length of me. “You want us wild tonight? You want me to wreck you?”

“Yes.” Her voice has turned sultry, alluring, dripping with need. “Bury your cock deep inside me. Stretch me open. Make me take every inch until I can’t think.”

“Can you take it?”

She laughs, low and dark, the sound vibrating against my chest.

“I should be asking you that question. I’m so wet already it’s soaking through my shorts. Feel.”

She grabs my wrist and shoves my hand between her thighs. The thin fabric is damp, hot, clinging to the swollen lips of her pussy. I press two fingers against her and feel the slick heat even through the cloth. She moans, hips rocking into my hand.

My eyes narrow. “Challenge accepted.”

When she kisses me it’s not gentle.

Four days of starvation have burned gentle out of both of us. Her teeth catch my lower lip and bite down hard enough to sting. I make a sound that vibrates between our mouths and her tongue surges in, wet and demanding.

The taste of her floods me: coffee and salt and pure want. I kiss her back like I’m starving, sucking her tongue, biting her lip in return until she whimpers into my mouth.

My hands slide down her sides, mapping every curve.

My thumbs slip beneath the hoodie and dig into the soft skin there. Something low in my stomach tightens hard. I can already picture my hands leaving marks on her.

"Take this off," I say against her mouth, my voice rough as I tug at the hoodie. "I need to see every inch of you. Need to put my mouth on every one of these curves."

She pulls it over her head in one frantic motion. Underneath she’s wearing a thin white tank top, no bra. Her breasts are round and heavy, straining the fabric so the hard peaks of her nipples are clearly outlined. I can see the darker circles of her nipples through the cotton.

I cup one through the shirt, squeezing the full weight of it. She inhales sharply, her whole body leaning into my hand like she’s starving for the pressure.

“Sensitive,” she whispers, already sounding wrecked. “Fuck, Kai, they’re so sensitive.”

“Good sensitive?”

I roll the nipple between my thumb and finger through the fabric, watching her face.

“So good it’s almost too much. Pinch harder.”

I do.

She moans, low and unguarded, her head tipping back so the long line of her throat is exposed.

I lean in and bite the side of her neck while my other hand finds her second breast, palming it, squeezing, feeling the heavy warmth of it. I pull the tank over her head and her breasts spill into my hands, warm and full and swollen, the nipples tight and dark and begging.

I groan at the sight of her half-naked in my living room, flushed and already trembling.

“Look at these,” I murmur, lifting them, thumbs brushing over the peaks. “Fucking perfect. So full. I could come just from playing with them.”