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‘Don’t move,” he ordered, turning away and grabbing a bag sitting on the bottom of the large locker. He set it down on the bench nearby and took out a pair of jeans and a plain white v-neck. A thin gold chain followed, and he’d somehow unlocked a new level of hotness I’d never seen before.
I had no idea that watching a man get dressed could be as delicious as watching them get undressed.
Or maybe it was because he was staring at me, his gaze hot and lust-filled, like it was doing as much to him having my eyes on him as it was doing to me watching him.
“I can’t take it,” he finally groaned.
‘What?” I whispered.
Before I could blink, I was backed against the wall and the golden haired god was on his knees. I pushed at his head, panicked as I stared around the room.
Except it was now completely empty. Like he had some kind of magic that bent the universe to do his will.
Everything inside of me screamed this was too fast. But my head fell back as his fingers rubbed over the seam of my leggings, somehow finding the sensitive, swollen flesh there that had been throbbing since I first saw him on the ice. His eyes tracked mine, a kind of madness there that perversely caused my mouth to water.
Pleasure built as I continued to let him touch me, and suddenly I was flying, soaring above a million shooting stars as he brought me to orgasm.
Again. Just like at the gala.
I was half drunk with love when I heard him roughly mutter, “Fuck this,” and then my leggings were ripped and he was pushing my legs wider with a brutal strength that was impossible to resist.
Cool air brushed against my folds, and then his tongue was licking deep inside me. An insatiable invasion that was soaked with darkness and desire. He worshiped me, his tongue touching everywhere, pushing in and out as his rough fingers slid all over. I was soaking his face, the gleam of my slick all over his gorgeousness. His gaze stayed on me, his tongue and fingers swirling and pressing, and playing me like he knew my body better than I did.
My hips moved on their own, and he groaned, the sensual sound decadent and delicious…and I wanted more. My inner muscles squeezed as his tongue pushed deeply inside.
A rush that felt like it might kill me hit me all at once . I wanted him to stop staring at me like that, stop making me feel that way. Like I wouldn’t recover if I never tasted this again.
I once read an article about heroin that said the reason it was so addictive and dangerous was all tied to that first hit. It made the body feel better than it ever could again. It took more and more each time to get even close to how you felt that first time, until finally you went so high you overdosed…still not touching that initial high.
A high you spent your whole life chasing, it said.
This felt like that.
My breath was coming out in gasps as I stared at the wide grin that spread across his face, his eyes crinkling in pleasure like he’d been the one to come instead of me.
He slowly stood, his fingers gliding up my neck, into the roots of my hair as he gripped me, his lips crushing against mine. I’d never thought of how intimate it would feel to taste yourself on someone else’s lips…
He pulled away from me, decadently licking his lips like he could read my mind and he was trying to keep every trace of me inside him.
We just stood there, our breaths intertwined.
And I was scared.
I closed my eyes because it was too much. It was squeezing my chest because I knew he was going to disappoint me.
He was going to break my heart.
I went along with it when he pulled my hands up over my head and slid another jersey down my body.
This time, of course, with his name.
The jersey was long enough to hide the fact that there was a fucking hole ripped in my leggings…but at least my underwear was still intact since he’d pushed that to the side. Still, it felt awkward.
He finished getting dressed and then took my hand, like we’d been doing this our whole lives, and my hand was never meant to be without his. He led me out of the locker room and into an elevator that took us to an underground parking garage. There were only a few cars left, but even if it was packed, there’d be no missing his pretty car parked in a prime spot just a few feet away from the elevator.
Once we got to it, he opened the door for me, a warm, gentle smile on his face that felt like too much, especially since I knew it was still coated with my wetness. “Get in, baby,” he murmured as he brushed his lips against mine.
“Lincoln—” I started, not knowing what to say…but knowing I needed to say something.
