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“Holy shit.” My hands hold his head to my breasts. “Don’t stop,” I demand. My hips start moving up and down and my pussy clenches around him.
“Fuck, I love your cunt,” he curses under his breath, releasing my nipple from his mouth. I purposely squeeze him tighter.
Thank you, Kegel exercises.
“So you’ve said once or twice,” I moan as the tip of his dick hits that magic spot deep inside me.
All the chitchat falls away with Liam’s increase of pace. He moves his hands to my thighs and lifts my legs, bending them over my laid-out body so my knees are up at my shoulders. At this angle, he gets even deeper. My hands cling onto his forearms as he fucks into me with everything he has—and let me tell you, ladies, this man has a lot to give.
I feel my stomach tighten, thousands of nerve endings coming to life. “That’s it. Let go for me, princess. Fucking come all over my cock,” Liam grits out between clenched teeth. He moves one of his hands between us and presses on my clit, detonating my entire body. Liam’s movements stiffen. He jerks into me over and over until both of our orgasms have us panting for breath. Then he falls next to me on the bed. “Shit, we forgot to use a condom. Again.”.
“It’ll be fine,” I huff out, trying to catch my breath.
“I’m not worried. I think you’d make perfect babies,” Liam says, and my blood goes cold.
“I can’t have kids, Liam,” I whisper.
“You can’t? Or you won’t?” he asks. We’ve been here before. Had this conversation more than once. He just doesn’t seem to get it.
“I can’t—well, technically I can. You know that. But I just… I can’t. What if I’m like her?” My biggest fear would be having a child and not being able to love it.
“If you don’t ever want to have kids, I’m okay with that. But don’t let such a monumental decision be made because of her. I didn’t know your mother, Aliyah, but I do know you. And you’re sweet, kind, and fucking perfect in every way. You are nothing like the woman who did that to you.” He dips his head towards my wrist.
“Maybe. But it could be genetic,” I suggest.
“We both have fucked-up mothers—granted yours is far worse than mine. But we are not our mothers, Aliyah.”
“Do you think you’re going to forgive her?” I ask him.
“I’m paying her bills. Her husband left her. But I’m not ready to talk to her. Not after the way she treated you.”
“So, how much should I bet on this Stanley Cup game? I mean, what are the odds of the Knights winning?” I ask, rolling over to face him.
“You did not just ask me that. Odds? Babe, we are going to annihilate them. There is no way that Cup isn’t coming home with us.”
“I like your confidence,” I tell him.
“It’s not confidence. It’s a simple fact,” he says.
ChapterForty
We’re just about to go out on the ice. It’s the game every hockey player dreams of playing. The Stanley Cup Championship. I’ve been here a few times. This is my first as a Knight though.
It was a rough start, joining a new team, especially after how I left my old one. But Aliyah has made settling into Vancouver easier. She makes it feel like home. I’m planning on using all of my spare time over the break convincing her to move in with me. She says she’ll be interning with her dad, learning the managerial ropes so to speak, because babysitting problem players indefinitely is not her life goal.
Speaking of her father, I’ve been summoned to his office, which is why I’m walking up there, dressed in my gear sans the skates. Why he wants to see me ten minutes before we’re due to go on the ice, I have no idea. Aliyah is down in the box with her friends, waiting for the game to start.
I wonder if I can make a detour to see her before duty calls.
I tuck that thought away and knock on Jacob Monroe’s door. I wait until I hear his booming voice call out for me to enter. I push inside and find him pacing up and down the length of his office with a glass of whiskey in his hands.
“Shut the door,” he says.
I’ve never seen this man so unraveled. Straight away, my internal alert system goes haywire. “Where’s Aliyah?” I ask, ready to run out the door. Something’s wrong. I can feel it.
Jacob points to a screen on his wall. “She’s in the box. She’s safe. For now,” he tells me.
For now? What the fuck?
