Page 65 of Empty Net

I grab the hem of her shirt, tugging it over her head and tossing it aside as I admire the lacy black bra that does nothing to hide her hard nipples.

“Just in case I forget to tell you later, you look stunning, Lilah.”

Her breaths stutter with surprise, but I pay no attention, already placing my lips right back on her, kissing her softly just over where her heart beats wildly. Her fingers slip into my hair once more, holding me to her as her head lolls back. A soft sigh leaves her lips like there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.

There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, either—except maybe between her legs with my tongue teasing her until she’s begging for mercy.

“Arthur…” she breathes out.

“What do you need, Lilah?” I ask, still pressing kisses to her chest. “Tell me what you need. Tell me what you want from me.”

“Everything.” She huffs out a laugh. “I want everything. I want…”

But she says nothing else, and I get the feeling she definitely wants something but is too afraid to ask for it, and Lilah is never afraid. I don’t want her to be. I want her to be herself. I want her to get everything from this she’s looking for.

“Then take it from me, Lilah. Take what you want.”

She tugs at my hair, pulling me away from her, then jumps off the counter, her body sliding against mine in all the right places.

“Take it,” I tell her again, and it’s like something snaps inside her.

She rolls her shoulders back and pushes on my chest. I stumble backward with the movement, already loving this side of her that fits her so well. Lilah has always been a force to be reckoned with. It makes sense to me she’s the same in the bedroom.

“Go to the couch and sit.”

I don’t dare question her. I do as I’m told, brushing past her and practically running to the living room. I sit on the dark gray leather couch as instructed, watching as she saunters into the room, looking like every bit of a wet dream. She continues untilher knees touch mine, staring down at me with heavy-lidded eyes.

She reaches forward, softly running her hand through my hair. Suddenly, her grip turns just rough enough to hurt but still be enjoyable as she swings her legs over me and climbs into my lap. She scoots until we’re fitted together perfectly, my aching cock pressing against her warm center, and I set my hands on her waist but do nothing else, letting her set the pace here.

She places her thumb against my lips, tracing them lightly like she’s trying to memorize them. Needing to taste her, I slide my tongue out, brushing against her fingertip, and her eyes narrow like I’m in trouble.

For the first time, I think I like being in trouble.

“Do you need something to suck on?” she asks, and I nod. “Then pull my tits out and put your mouth to good use, Arthur.”

I don’t think I’ve ever moved faster in my entire life, and that includes the time I made a stick save against one of the best players of all time when New York took a penalty shot in game five of a conference showdown. I yank down the cups of her bra, revealing the tits I’ve been longing to see, and waste no time leaning forward, pulling a rosy nipple into my mouth and closing my teeth around it before chasing away the sting with my tongue.

Lilah moans, rocking her hips lightly against my cock that’s begging for any relief at this point. It’s not enough, but damn, does it feel good. I tease her, moving between sucking softly and nipping at her until she’s wiggling against me, searching for me.

“Take it,” I remind her, and once again, there’s a spark in her blue eyes. “I’m only going to do what you tell me to do.”

“I want to touch you.”

“Then touch me, sugar.”

She drags her hands over my chest like she did in the kitchen, then down until she’s pulling at the hem. I sit forward, lettingher tug the material off me just as I did her earlier. I settle back against the couch as she runs her fingertips over me once more.

“You’re beautiful,” she murmurs, not taking her eyes off me, and I like the appreciation in them probably far more than I should. I’m not stupid; I know I look good. I spend a lot of time training for hockey. Still, it feels good to be stared at like I’m the last donut sitting in a pastry display.

“I don’t think anyone has said that about me before.”

She lifts a shoulder, then snaps open the button on my jeans. “It’s true.”

“Th-Thank you,” I stutter out as she drags the zipper down.

There are no pretenses as she slips her hand right into my boxer briefs and takes my heavy cock in her hand. I don’t know which of us sighs the loudest, but her touch is enough to have me breaking the rules, and I reach forward to kiss her again. I can’t help it, and I don’t think she minds anyway, her tongue sliding against mine instantly as she touches me in slow, nearly painful strokes. Once again, it’s not enough, but it’ll have to do with the confines of my jeans keeping us from more.

“Off,” she murmurs against my lips.

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