Page 85 of Goalie's Obsession

I bite the inside of my cheek.

“You full?” I ask, my voice already dipped a little too low.

“Absolutely,” she mumbles. “That wassogood. Thank you.”

I drop a kiss to her temple. “Come on. Bed. Horizontal digestion is the only kind I support.”

She gives me a curious glance but lets me help her up and guide her toward the bed. When she flops forward face-first, the robe slips higher, baring the backs of her thighs.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I settle beside her, fingers brushing the soft curve of her back. Her hair’s still damp at the roots, her cheek warm against the covers.

“Mmm, your shoulders look tight,” I murmur, sliding my hand up her spine.

She giggles against the sheets. “Oh really? Theylooktight, do they?”

I drag my palm in a firm circle over one shoulder blade. “Yep. I’m professionally diagnosing you with tension.”

“Is this where you prescribe full-body contact?”

“Only if you’re good.”

She hums, teasing—but when I straddle her thighs and press my thumbs in, she melts beneath me like butter.

I start slow. Just her upper back. Soft, kneading circles. Her skin is flushed from the shower, dewy and smooth beneath my hands, and every time she exhales, I swear I feel it in my cock.

I keep it safe. Gentle. Focused on her shoulders, not the perfect swell of her ass. Not the way the robe has ridden so far up it’s basically just a suggestion now.

She sighs again and this time it’s breathier. Like something uncoiling inside her.

My hands slip lower. Thumbs brushing the edge of the robe. I kiss her spine—just once—but I know that’s all it’ll take to ruin us both.

“You haveno ideawhat you do to me,” I whisper against her skin.

She deserves this. Deserves to be wanted. Touched like she’sworshipped, not weighted down by anyone else’s bullshit.

She shifts. Her hips rise just a fraction, offering herself without a word. Like instinct. Like muscle memory. Like she wants this as badly as I do.

“You okay?” I ask softly, fingers pausing just long enough to check in.

“Connor—” she says, and then deliberately shifts her hips… dragging her ass up into perfect alignment with my very enthusiastic interest.

"Oh. Right," I grin. "Message received, baby. Prescribing… full-body contact.”

I slide my hands down, fingertips skimming under the robe, palming the curves I can’t stop dreaming about.

She gasps softly when I pull the robe up, slow and careful, exposing inch by inch of her perfect body. I drag it off her shoulders and down her back, trailing kisses as I go, until the plush fabric pools at her hips.

And then she’s bare.

Completely, fuckingbare.

My breath catches as I take in the view—her soft curves, the dip of her spine, the way her thighs part just slightly as she shifts further up the mattress.

And right between those sexy as hell legs?

Heaven.Pure fucking heaven.

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