Page 91 of The Hockey Contract

Without waiting for a response, she shifted on the counter, pushing herself back slightly, straddling my legs now, her dress still bunched high around her waist, her bare thighs framing my hips. My dick throbbed, responding instantly to her movement.

Her fingers went to my belt buckle, fumbling slightly, her hands still shaking slightly from her orgasm. I watched her, mesmerized, as she worked to unbuckle me.

Finally, with a click, the belt came undone. She unzipped my trousers, her touch slow, deliberate, teasing, drawing out the anticipation until it was almost unbearable. And then, her hand closed around me, through the thin fabric of my boxers, cupping my length, weighing me in her palm.

A gasp escaped my lips, sharp and involuntary, the sensation of her touch electrifying, especially after just having my face buried between her legs. She squeezed gently, and I groaned, my head falling back against the cool cabinet behind me.

She looked up at me again, her eyes dark and glittering, her smile knowing, seductive. “Hard enough for you?” she teased, her voice a low murmur.

“You know the answer to that,” I rasped, my voice thick with need.

Without another word, she reached down, pulling down my zipper, freeing my cock from its confines. The cool air of the kitchen hit my heated skin, a momentary shock quickly replaced by the burning heat of her hand as she closed her fingers around the base of my shaft.

She guided me, positioning me perfectly between her legs, her gaze locked on mine as she slowly, deliberately, lowered herself onto me. I gasped again as she took me inside her mouth, the sensation incredibly intense, the contrast between the cool air and the wet heat of her mouth almost overwhelming.

She took me deep, her lips gliding over my glans, her tongue circling the sensitive tip, teasing and tormenting, drawing out the pleasure. She moved her head slowly at first, a deliberate, measured rhythm, her eyes never leaving mine, her gaze holding me captive, drawing me further and further into the sensual vortex she was creating.

Then, she increased the pace, her movements becoming faster, more urgent, her mouth working me with a practiced expertise. Her hands moved to my ass, guiding me, controlling the depth and rhythm of her suck.

The kitchen faded away again, the world narrowed down to just the sensations exploding in my dick, the wet heat of her mouth, the pressure of her lips, the swirling dance of her tongue. Moans rumbled in my chest, escaping my lips in soft, guttural sounds. I gripped her hips, holding her steady, lost in the pure, unadulterated pleasure.

She knew exactly what she was doing, knew exactly how to drive me wild. She varied the pressure, sometimes sucking deeply, almost to the back of her throat, sometimes teasing the tip with just the flick of her tongue, each variation sending a different wave of sensation washing over me.

My breath grew faster, shallower, my body starting to tense, the pressure building, coiling tighter and tighter within me. I knew I was close, on the verge of losing control.

Just as the pressure became almost unbearable, she changed tactics again. She slowed down, her movements becoming gentler, almost teasingly slow, drawing out the anticipation, prolonging the pleasure. Her tongue danced lightly over my glans, her lips barely brushing against my shaft, tormenting me with the exquisite torture of near-misses.

“Sienna,” I groaned, her name a plea, a desperate demand. “Please, baby.”

She chuckled softly against my cock. “Please what, Jax?” she murmured, her voice laced with playful sadism. “Please make you cum?”

I could barely speak, my brain short-circuiting, my body screaming for release. I just nodded, dumbly, unable to articulate the words, the need, the overwhelming desire.

She must have sensed my impending breaking point because then, she shifted again, changing the angle, deepening the suck, her mouth closing around me with renewed force, her tongue swirling around my glans with frantic urgency. Her hands tightened on my ass, holding me still as the pressure built to an unbearable crescendo.

And then, it hit me. The wave of orgasm crashed over me. I groaned aloud, and cum exploded from me, hot and thick, spurting into her mouth, filling her mouth with my release.

I bucked against her, my hips thrusting involuntarily, my body convulsing in the throes of my climax. Waves of pleasure shuddered through me, stealing my breath, blurring my vision. I could feel her mouth still working me, sucking even as I came, drawing out every last drop of my seed.

Finally, the spasms subsided, the intensity receding, leaving me limp and breathless, weak with aftershocks. She pulled back, slowly, reluctantly, her mouth glistening with my cum, her eyes heavy-lidded, sensual, triumphant.

She swallowed, provocatively, and then looked up at me again, her smile widening, a slow, satisfied curve of her lips. “Yum,” she murmured, licking her lips clean, her gaze locking onto mine.

When we finally separated and got dressed, I rested my forehead against hers. "I've been wanting to do that all day," I admitted.

"What stopped you?" she asked, her hands resting lightly on my chest.

"Until recently, I wasn't sure where we stood. If what I was feeling was one-sided."

Her laugh was soft, incredulous. "How could you not know? I've been falling for you for weeks."

"I'm better at reading opposing defenses than women," I confessed, earning another laugh that I felt against my chest. "Speaking of reading situations correctly, I had them change the vow renewal plans today."

She pulled back slightly, eyebrows raised in question.

"The original proposal was too elaborate, too public," I explained, leading her to the living room where we could sit more comfortably. "It didn't feel right for you – for us."

"What did you tell them?"

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