Page 60 of The Last Kind of Kiss
Lila is bare, having forgone any underwear, which means that she was sitting in the stands just a few feet away from me with her naked pussy rubbing against the crotch of her pants. Jesus Christ. I’m so glad she didn’t tell me she was going commando before the game. I would’ve cracked my head open on the ice.
I let my towel puddle to the floor, and I give my length a firm rub to stave off some of the budding pain. “Shirt?”
“See for yourself,” she offers, guiding one of my hands up and underneath my jersey, to where all I feel is the smoothness of her warm skin. My fingers crawl up her ribs, enclosing around the mound of her breast, and I pleasure her with a squeeze that makes her head slump back.
“Oh…God.”
I take my thumb and rub circles over the tapered point of her nipple, watching in hazy satisfaction at the way her throat constricts, and I flick it back and forth until a moan comes tumbling out. “You like that, angel?” I taunt.
She only has the power to nod. Seeing her vulnerable like this—wearing nothing butmyjersey—compresses the coil in my stomach that begs me to act on every selfish impulse in my addled brain. I massage her boob and lift my jersey at the same time, switching from clumsy grabs to the heat of my mouth, where I hollow my cheeks so I can pull her nipple past my lips.
My other hand—no longer rooted on my cock—flies up to support the small of her back. She’s pushing out her chest, flipping back waves of her now-disheveled locks, and one of her hands enmesh in my hair while the other reaches down to pet my dick. My hips jerk from the contact alone, my mouth faltering sloppily as I cover her tit in spit.
“Bench,” I mumble against her skin.
We both walk blindly until hitting a flat surface—which just so happens to be in front of my cubby—and I immediately sit down, followed closely by her ass lowering onto my lap. She scootches around to find the most forgiving position, and it barely takes a brush for me to feel her arousal leaking out of her cunt.
I switch my attention from her breast to her neglected pussy, slithering my hand between the crux of her thighs and skimming her sopping lips with the pads of my fingers. “Fuck, you’re already so wet. You need me to stretch this pretty little cunt out?”
“Bristol…” Her voice is thinned to a rasp, her legs trembling against mine, and she clings to my shoulders with a grip tight enough to break bone.
I tease her with some swipes back and forth over her coated sex, never fully submerging a finger even though I can feel her cunt trying to clench around nothing. She’s a mewling mess, rutting her hips into my cock, bringing her swollen pussy closer each time. I need to be inside her. Fuck, I can’t…I can’t even think straight right now. I need her drenching my dick.
“Use your words, angel. Tell me what you need.”
“I want you inside me,” she demands, sliding her hands down to my abs and looking up through her lashes with the sexiest half-cast of her eyes. They’re darker than I’ve ever seen them, almost entirely black in the blue mist submerging the locker room like a light installation of water projected onto a blank canvas.
“I don’t have a condom,” I say, sticking my arm behind me and scouring the shelf for a contraceptive that I know I’m not going to find. I don’t usually keep those on me, and the rest of the guys have already taken their things with them.
“We didn’t use one last time.”
“I know, but…”
“Are you clean?” she asks me.
My eyebrow shoots up. “Of course I am. I haven’t been with anyone beside you.”
“So am I. So why are we still talking about this?”
“I just don’t want to put any pressure on yo?—”
Lila looks like she’s about to kill me—and not in some sexy way with her pussy. “I’m on birth control. I have plenty of it. You know what I don’t have plenty of? Patience,” she growls through her teeth.
Shut up, man! What are you doing?
She glances to the side for a split second, but I’m too stunned by the beast I’ve just unleashed to pay much mind to it. She leans past me, grabs something from my cubby, and grips a fistful of skate laces between her fingers.
“Hands behind your back. I’m taking control this time. Do you have a problem with that?”
I gulp and shake my head. “No, ma’am.”
“Good,” she purrs, having me lean forward while she ties the laces around my wrists, pulling hard enough for them to brand an imprint. I wince a little, and once she makes sure they’re tight enough, she rewards me with a kiss to my jaw that travels down, down, down to my clavicle. And then she starts to suck, lifting her hips and spreading her slick around with the blunt tip of my cockhead. My arms strain against the restraints, but she’s knotted those fuckers so tightly that I might never get them off.
“Lila…”
She’s nibbling on my collarbone, bruising the flesh underher teeth, taking full control of the situation with that stubborn princess attitude that always makes my knees buckle.
“I bet you’ve been thinking about when we’d have sex again. I bet you’ve been thinking about fucking my wet pussy. I bet you’ve been dying to fill me up, haven’t you?”
