Page 57 of The Hockey Contract

His hands cupped my face, turning my head back to his. He kissed me again, deeper, wetter, his tongue plunging into my mouth in a rhythm that mimicked the frantic pulse of my body. It was no longer just kissing. It was tasting, exploring, devouring. It was a conversation spoken only with mouths and tongues and breath, a silent language of desire that needed no words.

My dress rode up higher on my thighs as he pressed closer, the cool metal of the counter now a distinct, almost arousing sensation against my bare skin.

I shifted restlessly, my legs parting slightly, instinctively seeking a deeper connection, a closer proximity to the source of this intoxicating heat. I wanted him inside me, wanted him now, this urgency an almost unbearable ache in my core.

He broke the kiss again, dragging his mouth down my neck, lower still, to the hollow of my throat, where my pulse throbbed frantically beneath his lips. His teeth scraped gently against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine that wasn't from cold. It was pure, unadulterated arousal, every nerve ending in my body screaming for more.

“Jax,” I gasped again, his name a plea, a demand, a desperate prayer.

He understood, instantly. He straightened slightly, his gaze burning into mine, hot and possessive. “Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, rough with desire.

What did I want? In this moment, on this cold metal counter, with his body pressed against mine, the answer was screamingly obvious.

“You,” I breathed, the word barely audible, but laced with an intensity that left no room for misinterpretation. “I want you, Jax. Now.”

A slow, predatory smile curved his lips, a smile that sent another jolt of excitement through me, mixed with a delicious shiver of apprehension. He knew he had me. He knew I was his.

Without another word, he shifted again, moving between my thighs, his body nudging my legs wider apart, his knee pressing gently between my core. The contact, even through the fabric of our clothes, was electric.

He braced his hands on the counter on either side of me, caging me in, trapping me in this intimate, intensely charged space. And then, he went lower.

I gasped as his mouth left mine entirely, moving downwards, tracing a fiery path along my jawline, down my neck, across my collarbone. My breath hitched again, coming in short, shallow gasps, as his lips grazed the swell of my breasts.

He paused there for a heartbeat, his breath hot against my skin, and then, with a slow, deliberate movement that made my breath catch in my throat, he dipped lower still. His fingers, suddenly bold and insistent, found the hem of my dress, lifting it higher, higher, exposing my bare thighs to the cool air of the bakery. The sensation was shockingly intimate, feeling the sudden rush of coolness against my heated skin.

And then, his mouth was on my pussy.

My back arched off the counter involuntarily, a gasp escaping my lips, half shock, half pure, unadulterated pleasure. His tongue was hot and wet, tracing a searing path upwards, towards my clit. I gripped his shoulders, my fingers digging into the muscles beneath his shirt.

He didn't rush. He took his time, teasing, tormenting, his tongue lapping and licking at my skin, exploring every curve and crevice, drawing out the anticipation until it was almost unbearable. He circled my clit with his tongue, then traced the sensitive skin of my inner labia, sending shivers of pure pleasure radiating through my entire body.

My hips started to move instinctively, pushing against his mouth, seeking a deeper, more insistent pressure. Moans bubbled up from deep within my chest, escaping my lips in soft, whimpering sounds.

“Oh, Jax,” I gasped again, his name now a desperate plea, a wordless demand for release.

He seemed to sense my mounting urgency, my nearing edge. His movements became more focused, more insistent. He began to suckle gently at my clit, drawing it between his lips, his tongue flicking across the sensitive nub with tantalizing precision. A jolt of pure electricity shot through me, tightening my core, making my thighs tremble uncontrollably.

My head fell back against the cool tiled wall behind me, my eyes fluttering closed as waves of pleasure washed over me, each one stronger, more intense than the last. The faint sounds of the city outside, the gentle hum of the bakery fridge, all faded into a distant hum, replaced only by the wet sounds of his mouth on me, my own ragged breathing, and the soft, escalating moans that were ripping from my throat.

His hands left my shoulders, sliding down my sides, then under my dress, cupping my boobs, squeezing and kneading them with a firm, insistent pressure that only intensified the sensations blooming between my legs. He shifted his position slightly, spreading my legs wider, giving himself better access, and then, with a sudden, sharp intake of breath, he began to lap at my pussy with more urgency, his tongue flicking faster, harder, his suction growing stronger, deeper.

I cried out, my body arching off the counter again, my hips bucking against his face in involuntary spasms of pleasure. The world narrowed, focused solely on the exquisite sensations erupting between my legs, on the incredible things Jax was doing to me with his mouth and his tongue.

I could feel it building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within me, the pressure mounting. My breath was coming in ragged gasps, my body trembling uncontrollably, my muscles clenched tight.

And then, it broke. A wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure exploded through me, ripping through me with such force that I gasped aloud, a sharp cry tearing from my throat. My body convulsed around his mouth, my muscles clenching and releasing in involuntary spasms.

Waves of sensation washed over me, each one more intense than the last, shattering me into a million pieces of pure, incandescent feeling. I squeezed my eyes shut, my head thrashing from side to side against the tiled wall, my breath coming in short, sharp pants.

The world spun and tilted, and all I could feel was the pulsing, throbbing pleasure radiating outwards from the core of my being, every nerve ending firing, every muscle trembling with aftershocks.

Slowly, gradually, the intensity began to recede, the waves of pleasure subsiding into gentle ripples, then calmer waters. My breath gradually evened out, my body slowly relaxing, limp and boneless against the cold countertop. My eyelids fluttered open, and I blinked up at the ceiling, the world slowly coming back into focus.

I was still gasping for breath, my heart hammering against my ribs like a frantic bird. My legs were trembling, weak and shaky. But a profound sense of peace, of utter satisfaction, settled over me, a deep, contented sigh escaping my lips.

Then, I felt his hands on my thighs again, gently lowering my legs back together. I looked down, a slow blush creeping up my neck and across my cheeks. Jax was kneeling between my legs, his head bent, his dark hair falling forward. He looked up then, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled, that slow, crooked, utterly charming smile that always made my stomach flip. He reached up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a gesture that only amplified the heat flooding through me again.

“Well,” he said, his voice still a little husky, a little breathless, “Now we’re really starting to act like a married couple, aren’t we?”

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