Page 58 of Balance

I smile and nod, closing my eyes and breathing in his dark, musky scent. “I’m yours.”

He moans and rips my shirt off of my body before tearing my bra off alongside it in the blink of an eye. He wraps his large, warm hands around my breasts, squeezing them before sucking on my nipples, biting down on them. I arch my back, my breasts shoving further into his face. I groan as I slip my fingers through his soft, thick hair.

“Fuck,” I murmur and close my eyes, basking in everything I’m feeling. His dick is hardening beneath me and I rock against him, feeling him pulse against my clit.

I need him in me.

I scoot off of him and drop my pants and underwear before I cock a brow at him, waiting for him to drop his clothes on the ground alongside mine. I can feel my body flush from my ears to my chest, I can hear our panting breaths.

He leans forward and grips my hips with his fingers, pulling me against him. I grunt and shake my head. “No. I need you naked, Morgan.”

He chuckles and bites down on my shoulder, licking the marks before narrowing his eyes at me. “Is that right?”

He licks his lips and uses the leverage of my body to stand before he backs away, pulling up from the back of his shirt before he drags it over his head. It floats to the ground and I stare at his heaving chest, the way his abs are contracting with each harsh breath.

I watch as he shucks off his sweats and drops his briefs before kicking all of our clothes away. He groans as he stares down my body.

My core clenches and flutters. I cross my legs and hold up my arms to hide my scars. I feel like I’m on the stage in a spotlight. This god of a man is too golden for me, isn’t he?

Sure he’s riddled with his own scars, from his head to his feet. Surgeries, injuries, heck, I even see new bruises and cuts along his arms from his practice today.

But that’s what’s expected from a hot shot hockey player, right?

He chuckles darkly and saunters up to me before plucking me up into his arms, shaking his head. “You’re not getting away with that shit with me, Lillian. I want all of you. Your nightmares, your past. Your scars and your soul. Give it all to me. Please don’t cover yourself.”

I press my lips together and hold onto his shoulders as he stalks down the hall towards his bedroom, slowly wrapping my legs around his body. His abs are massaging my slick clit and I moan. “What about our clothes?”

He shrugs and opens up his door before softly closing and locking it, then gazing down at me. “Don’t worry about that, baby.” He tosses me onto his made bed, I bounce and close my eyes. He pulls my legs straight from my ankles, pulling them apart before I feel his mouth suction onto my clit.

I cry out and arch up against his hot mouth, my eyes blinking open at the dark ceiling.

He hums and groans as he shoves his fingers into me, pulsing them against my sensitive walls and nerves. “You. Taste. Fucking. Amazing.”

I try to laugh but I can’t, I can only feel.

I push my fingers through his dark strands, I’m so close to the edge, I can feel the tingles moving up from my clit to my lower stomach. So close.

He sits back on his heels and licks his fingers and lips. “Turn over.” I flip over and groan as he grips my sore hips, shoving my face down into his comforter before I feel his hot, slick cock nudging against my entrance.

“I want you coming on my cock… Not on my fingers or my face. I want all of you. Your orgasms, your happiness… Your health.” He slams into me and I scream into the mattress, shaking my head side by side as my body acclimates to his size.

Fuck, that stretch.

I whimper and tremble as he speeds up, feeling his fist wrap about my hair and pulling my head back. “Fuck, how do you feel so good? You’re so wet for me. You love my cock, don’t you, baby?”

I nod and cough, choking on my spit as he starts circling my clit with his other hand. “Yes!”

He hums and leans down to press his lips to my ear as he slows down, rolling his hips and hitting me so deep. “How much? How much do you love being impaled on my cock? Do you need to come?”

I croak out a noncommittal noise and he slaps my ass.

“Speak up.”

I clear my throat and push back, needing him to go faster. “I love it. I love your cock.”

He wraps his hand around the front of my neck and starts back up his harsh, fast pace. I’m mindless, floating in the ether. Am I even real? Is this?

He groans and his hand squeezes around my throat, closing off my windpipe. Damn, I’ve never done anything like this before. Has he always been like this?

---