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I need her naked and under me.
Now.
With a groan, I grab her ass with both hands and lift her off the ground. Her legs wrap around me, and I kiss her exactly like I plan to fuck her—hard and deep. It’s tongue and teeth, desire and lust.
She whimpers and rocks against me, her hips seeking out the friction I’m not ready to give her. Not yet.
“Where’s your room?”
“To the left.” She points over my shoulder, putting her mouth on my neck and nipping at my skin.
A growl rumbles in my chest as I turn on the lights and drop her on top of her teal comforter.
“How many times do you want to come tonight, Princess?” My cock strains against my zipper, and I grip it in my fist, keeping my gaze on her as I move my hand from barbell to barbell. She’s watching every brush of my fingers, every squeeze, her tongue darting out to wet her lips like she can’t wait to get her mouth on me.
Same.
I’m going to lick that pussy of hers until she begs me to stop.
“I don’t know.” She shifts on the bed rubbing her thighs together, no doubt trying to satiate the lust pulsing within her. “One. Maybe two?”
“One. Maybe two,” I repeat with a chuckle, unbuttoning my shirt and tossing it behind me. I don’t miss the way her eyes shift to my chest, tracing every line with her gaze.
Hunger is written all over her face.
Because of hockey, I’ve always been in great shape, but I’ve never really appreciated it until now. She’s looking at me like I’m a god, and I’m more than ready to worship her like the goddess she is.
“Too many?”
“Too few, Princess.”
Her mouth gapes open, and her brows furrow. I don’t know who the fuck she’s been with in the past—and quite frankly, I’d die happy never knowing—but they’ve clearly never taken care of her. She dated that wanker, Ron, for months, and obviously he never cared enough to get her off.
What the fuck is wrong with him?
That’s all I’ve been thinking about for days.
One or two orgasms.
She’s got to be fucking kidding me.
I plan on making her come at least twice on my tongue, and one or two more times once that sweet cunt of hers is wrapped around me. And that’s just round one, because I have a feeling one time with Avery Remington won’t be enough.
“I’ve never…” she trails off, turning her head to avert her gaze.
I growl and force her to turn back to me. “Never what?”
“Never come more than once. And even then, it was rare.”
“That ends tonight.” My chest heaves with every breath, and I don’t know if I should be angry that she’s been so neglected, or happy that she’s been waiting for me to ruin her for every other man. “I’m going to make you come so many times the only name you’ll remember is mine.”
“Foster...”
My name comes out somewhere between a plea and a prayer. I can’t wait to hear her screaming it.
“Now, as much as I love you in my jersey, I really want to see you out of it.”
She lets me undress her, bit by bit, until she’s left in a pale pink bra and matching lace panties. I push her down on the bed and lean back, taking in her sizable breasts and delectable curves. I’ve never seen someone so sexy. “Fucking hell, Avery. You. Are. Bloody. Perfect.”
