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“Tell me it’s my pussy,” he orders, moving his hand forward to rub my clit.
“Yes. It’s yours. Don’t fucking stop. It’s your pussy.” His fingers repeatedly swirl a figure eight over the bundle of nerves. “It’s all yours.” I pant, already on the verge of release. Committed to the task, he increases the speed of the small caresses until I shatter. Whimpering and trembling, I white knuckle the table as Darius draws out my orgasm.
“You’re so fucking sexy.” His hand disappears from my clit, only to wrap around one of my hips. His other hand swipes the head of his cock back and forth over my slick entrance, then he buries himself to the hilt in one smooth thrust.
“Fuck,” I moan, trapped somewhere between pleasure and pain. This fullness is a new feeling for me, as is this sexual position.
“That’s my girl, taking my cock like a goddamn dream.” Taking his time at first, with long, slow strokes, he allows my body to adjust to this position and his size.
His free hand grips my other hip, his fingertips digging into my flesh so hard he’s sure to leave bruises. The thought of him physically marking me is thrilling. It’s concrete proof I’m not imagining I’m being fucked by the most amazing man I’ve ever met.
Pulling my ass back toward him, he forces me to lower my torso to the table. I smell his familiar scent as his suit coat cushions my cheek. He thrusts his hips harder, forcing our bodies to slap together. The sound of that combined with our moans is loud enough for someone to hear if they’re walking by. That thought should horrify me, but it only makes this more exciting. It ups the stakes… as if my heart being at stake isn’t high enough.
Darius fucks me like a professional athlete. He’s strong and relentless in his pursuit of his orgasm. Just when I think he’s going to fall over the edge solo, his fingers flick against my clit until I’m sobbing through my second release. His rhythm becomes erratic as he comes, and when he’s done, his considerable weight settles over my back.
“Christ. That was… you were… there are no words for what that was.” He undoes the makeshift blindfold, pulling it from my face. I blink from the brightness of the bare lightbulbs in the coverless ceiling fixture until my eyes adjust to the change. I peer over my shoulder at him and smile. He leans forward, pressing his lips to mine for a leisurely kiss.
“This is going to get messy really quick.”
I glance at the shelves beside us. “Paper towels at nine o’clock.”
“How convenient.” He snickers. “Maybe we’re not the only ones who utilized this room.”
“Gross.” I laugh.
He wipes between my legs and then I take over as he cleans himself up. “This certainly wasn’t my plan when I brought you in here,” he says. We both toss the paper towels in the trash barrel in the corner.
“I’m glad inspiration hit.” I wink, adjusting my dress back down to cover me once more.
He tucks in his shirt before fastening his pants and belt. I’m impressed with how quickly he has his tie back on and fastened and all without a mirror. “Does this look straight?” He adjusts the knot.
“Yeah, but everyone’s going to know what we were doing.” I noticeably cringe.
He moves closer, pulling me into my new favorite place to be—in his arms. “You’re just feeling awkward because this isn’t normal behavior for you. But it’ll be fine. No one besides my friends are going to assume we were messing around.”
“Is this normal behavior for you?” I ask, suddenly feeling insecure.
“No. I know we never discussed our pasts in that regard, but I’m not into random hookups. I’m sure that’s hard for you to believe with me being a hockey player. I’m not saying I’ve always gone without sex, but my number of partners is low. Not as low as yours but lower than most.”
“Don’t tell me any more about your romantic past. As long as you’ve always been careful with your partners, that’s all I care about.”
“I’ve always been safe and I also get tested regularly for hockey. I probably should’ve asked you before we got carried away, but are you on birth control?”
“Yep. I have an IUD, so we should be good.”After we had Tillie, I wasn’t taking any chances of history repeating itself.
“I think the main reason why I never went wild when I signed with the NHL is because my mom has always told me I’d meet the woman of my dreams someday and I shouldn’t do anything I’d be ashamed to tell her about. That’s always stuck with me. My parents are closer than any other couple I know. I want the kind of relationship they still have after thirty-five years of marriage.”
“That’s rare these days,” I say.
“I like to imagine it will be the same for us someday.”
“Really?” I can’t keep hope from my voice.
“That is if you can get over me being a hockey player… and me not telling you right away.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m still not happy about the hockey thing. Do you know how many times in my life I’ve said I will never date a hockey player? Way to make me a liar, Darius.”
He laughs. “I never thought I’d be in love with the coach’s daughter.”
