Page 139 of Coach's Temptation

But right now? Right now I'm going to remind my future wife exactly why we broke all those rules in the first place.

I drag her through the back hallways of the Icehawks’ HQ, my pulse pounding, my cock already hard as fucking steel.

Natalie stumbles behind me, breathless and flushed, her dress bunched in my grip.

"Hunter, we can’t just—"

I slam through a door, yank her inside, and kick it shut behind us. I press Natalie hard against it, my palms flat against the wood on either side of her head.

"Perfect.Nowit'slike old times."

The storage room is dim, stacked with old game equipment and unused gala decorations. The faint scent of fresh ice still lingers beneath the floral bullshit from the gala.

"Hunter—"

"Yes, baby?" I growl, already pressing her against the wall, pinning her with my body.

She gasps as I grab her thigh and hike it over my hip, my mouth already at her throat. Biting. Claiming. Fucking owning my girl.

"Tell me again how you missed sneaking around, sweetheart."

Her breath stalls in her throat, her hands gripping my suit jacket. "Hunter—"

I slide my palm up her leg, under the emerald silk. "Oooo… no panties. You really are a fucking good girl, aren't you?"

Her eyes widen as I spin her around, pressing her chest against an old, barely sturdy workbench. The thing creaks under the sudden weight, but it holds. I pin her there, my body flush against hers, feeling the heat radiate off her skin.

I reach down and hike up the hem of her dress higher, exposing more of her smooth skin. My fingers find their way between her legs, teasing her clit and exploring her tight hole with my fingers until she's trembling beneath me.

"God, you're so wet," I murmur against her neck.

She trembles, her nails digging into my arms as my fingers hit that beautiful spot deep inside her cunt. "Hunter, the gala—"

"Fuckthe gala."

I grin against her skin as I shove her dress higher, bunching the fabric in my fist.

"Missed sneaking around, huh?" My voice is rough, thick with hunger. "Let’s make up for lost time, baby."

I undo my fly, my cock springing free, heavy and thick. I fist myself, dragging the swollen red tip through her slick wetness.

"Hunter—"

I thrust inside her.

Hard.

She gasps, her back arching, her walls clenching tight around me. The workbench creaks under our weight, the old wood groaning as I drive into her, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. Her fingers claw at the wood, searching for something to hold onto as I fill her completely.

"Fuck, you feel so good," I growl, my hands gripping her hips, pulling her back onto me with every thrust.

She moans, her head falling forward, her hair cascading down her back. I reach up, grabbing a handful of her hair, pulling her head back so I can see her face.

Her eyes are closed, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure.

Just like old times.

"Look at me," I demand, my voice rough with need. "I want to see my fiancé's eyes when she comes."

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