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“Please, please, please,” she whimpers.
I rub circles on her clit, and she jerks and shudders, eyes flaring before they roll up again.
“Oh, God, oh my God…” She makes a low keening sound, and her body quakes with the orgasm. Her pussy clenches around my cock, and she sobs as sensation rockets through her. I hold her hips, pounding into her as she cries out, the orgasm relentless as it drags her under. I don’t pull out when I come this time.
She sags against me. We’re both covered in sweat. Her body convulses every few seconds, and she makes these little hiccupping whimpers when it happens.
I cup her cheek again, my hands shaking. My stomach feels like it’s bottoming out. I pull back so I can see her face. She looks beyond exhausted. Tears leak out of the corners of her eyes.
“Fuck, Bea.” I brush them away, panic taking hold. “Why didn’t you tell me to stop? I didn’t want to hurt you.”
Her tongue drags along her bottom lip. “You didn’t hurt me.”
“I made you cry again.” Every time it makes me want to stab myself in the eye.
Her hand brushes over her cheek and drops to her lap. “Not hurt tears. Orgasm-relief tears.”
“Oh.” I smooth them away, still not liking their presence. “Fuck. I thought I pushed you too far.”
She shakes her head. “I knew you wouldn’t.” Her fingers drift along the edge of my jaw. “I would like you to kiss me now, please.”
I slant my mouth over hers and wrap my arms around her. This kiss is penance, languid strokes of tongue. A soft apology. Eventually I pull back. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Absolutely okay. But walking might be a challenge for the next couple of days, so I guess it’s good your first game is an away one.”
I laugh, relieved, and cover her mouth with mine again.
She hums and runs her fingers through my hair.
That she’s gentle with me after I was so rough makes me feel like an even bigger asshole. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. I would have told you to stop if it had been too much, but it wasn’t. I’m glad I could be what you need.”
“I don’t deserve you.” I drape her arms over my shoulders and pick her up.
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
“Where are we going?” she asks against my lips.
“Shower. I want to clean you up.”
Half an hour later, we’re up in the loft. After the shower, I got Bea settled in with water and a huge glass of fresh-squeezed OJ. Then I ran across the street to the convenience store to buy treats. Now we’re cuddling on the couch. As someone who hasn’t experienced a whole lot of cuddling, I find I kind of like all this closeness. Especially when it’s Bea, and she’s all warm and smells like my favorite things.
“So what prompted the rage-fuck?” she asks, taking a bite of an Oreo Drumstick. I recently learned she loves them.
“Hollis is starting the game tomorrow. I’m second line.”
Her brow furrows. “But you’ve been kicking ass in preseason. You’ve scored the most goals and have the most assists on the team. Hardly anyone in the league has better stats than you.”
“Yeah.”
“So why…” Her eyes close and her lips purse. “Because it’s good for team morale.”
“How do you know that?” I ask.
“Hammer overheard her dad and Hollis talking the other day.” She props her cheek on her fist. I’m grateful the red spot has disappeared. “That’s so shitty, Tris. First line belongs to you.”
“I get why they’re giving it to Hollis.” And I do. But it makes me question where I stand and what’s coming at the end of the season.
“Doesn’t make it suck any less.”
“Not really, no.”
“Well, you’ll just have to play your fucking ass off and show the hockey-watching nation why you should always be in the starting lineup. And of course, my pussy is always available for a rage-pounding when shit’s unfair.”
I kiss her on the cheek. “I can’t believe you didn’t tap out.”
“I trust you. You might keep me on the edge, but you’d never hurt me. I honestly thought I was going to die if I didn’t have an orgasm soon, though. When I finally did, holy fuck.” She makes the mind-blown gesture at her crotch. “Best orgasm ever.”
“Don’t tell me that. I don’t want the green light to be an asshole like that again.”
Every time I think I’ve pushed her past her limit, she steps right up and takes what I give. It makes me want to keep her, take care of her, even though I know I can’t. But how long can we reasonably keep doing this?
She shrugs. “You were rightfully upset, and you came to me for what you needed. If it had been more than I could handle, if you had been, I would have told you. I’ve seen all your sides, Tristan. None of them scare me.”
