Page 9 of Slapshot Baby

“What are you talking about?” I huff.

“Are you afraid to scream for me?” His voice is sultry. “Your face says you want to, but you stop yourself each time.”

“Can you make me scream for you? You’ll fail,” I retort.

No, no, no. That’s not what I meant. I’m barely holding it together here.

A wicked smile appears on his face.

“I’ve already made you scream,” he says, slamming into me

Pleasure fills me.

“You’re just hiding it.”

Another slam.

I grit my teeth. The plan was working fine a few seconds ago. It isn’t anymore. My body and mouth are not obeying my wishes tonight.

Kai continues torturing me in this way until he comes.

Luck’s on my side because I found new ways to prevent myself from gasping; kissing him, biting his neck, gripping his arm hard and placing my head on his shoulder.

Now that this is over, I should say goodbye and go home.

Should.

The only problem is I’m still on the wall with Kai inside me. He’s frowning deeply, lines creasing his forehead.

He slowly pulls out of me only to find out that the condom has broken.

“Shit!” he says, glancing from the broken condom to me.

I shrug, unconcerned.

“Relax. I already told you I’m on the pill. There’s nothing to worry about.” My arm goes round his neck, pulling him into a quick kiss. “Round two, captain, or are we done being dramatic about it?”

He’s quiet for a long time. Finally, he speaks:

“I’ve already spilled my seed inside you. What’s one more time?” His tongue licks my neck, my cheeks, stopping short at my lips. “You’ll scream for me in every way possible, Ava. And you’ll enjoy doing it.”

That’s exactly what I don’t want to do.

But I don’t tell him to stop. My stupid hormones take over.

“You’re just bluffing. You can’t do anything.” I bite his nose. “I challenge you to make me scream.”

A glint appears in his eyes. “Hmm.”

He carries me to the bedroom, places me gently on the bed like he's got nowhere else in the world to be. Like the whole night has been leading to exactly this and he intends to take his time proving it.

I expect fast. I came here for the kind of frantic heat that asks nothing of you except to enjoy it and leave asap.

What I get instead is his mouth moving down my stomach with a deliberateness that makes me forget how to breathe right. His hands pin my hips when I try to chase more.

His voice is low and rough against my skin telling me to slow down, that we have time, that he wants to feel me get there instead of rushing me to the finish.

Nobody has ever wanted to watch me get there before.