Page 66 of Puck to the Heart
A sound somewhere between a pant and a growl left his throat as he continued the punishing pace. One hand held tightly to my hip, the other slid around me, finding my clit and drawing slow, almost painful circles over the sensitive bud.
I cried out, tilting my head up, arching my back.
“Turn around.” Then he withdrew, and I nearly sobbed at the loss. “Take these off.” He tore at the waistband of my leggings, and I scrambled to rid myself of them. Nearly face-planting as I struggled with my shoes, I finally had the pants off. Ash’s hands found the hem of my bra and tried to pull it over my head, but it wouldn’t come off without a pry bar.
I told him so, and instead, he reached into it and scooped my breasts up to rest on the shelf made by the tight fabric.
“Your turn.” With an impressively quick movement, he had his shirt over his head and tossed it in a corner, then he was pressing his face to my hair, nipping and kissing his way down my neck and collarbone. When his mouth found my nipple, my legs nearly gave out. The heat of his tongue on my skin shot straight to my center.
“Ash, please,” I begged again. “I need you inside me.”
Hooking his hands behind my knees, he lifted me, wrapping my thighs around his waist. The sensation of cold against my back and ass nearly broke my concentration as he backed me into the mirror. Another rough thrust sent stars sparking along my nerves, and I lost the ability to think.
“It’s like you were made for me.” Ash’s breath skated over my jaw as he leaned forward to press a kiss to my collarbone.
Even the tiny movement sent more heat flooding to where we joined, and I didn’t know how much longer I could take it before I shattered.
There was a crystalline moment before I came when a million tiny details filtered into my brain all at once. Lavender permeating the air from one of those flower-shaped plug-in things. A bead of sweat trickling down the column of Ash’s throat made me want to follow its path with my tongue and bite him. The contrast of his skin and the swirling, curved lines of his tattoos where his arms held me. The squeeze of my thighs around his waist. The feel of sweat-slick skin gliding back and forth. Cold glass pressing between my shoulder blades. Our mingling breaths the only sound in the room, other than the occasional gasp or groan.
And a thousand other tiny things sharpened in my mind right before exploding outward into infinite sparkling pieces. I didn’t even have time to warn him before my body tensed, clenching tight around him.
Breathing became impossible. Moving certainly was.
Gradually, my vision filtered back, bringing Ash into focus.
And, holy shit, what a thing to behold.
The expression on his face was not one I would’ve expected. Not lust or ecstasy but…
Relief, maybe, tinged with something else I couldn’t quite name.
Even though Iwanted nothing more than to stay with her in our new bubble of bliss, it wasn't very captainly of me to be late on a game day, but I might've been swayed if Liv hadn't needed to go into work early as well. She’d planned on coming to the game, but about an hour before puck drop, I got a message from her.
Olivia
Hi! I’m sorry I can’t make it to the game. There was an incident with the penetrometer, and I’ve got to stay late to figure it out. Good luck!
Even without my biggest fan present, winning the game still felt like the best aphrodisiac I'd ever experienced. At leastuntil I came home to find Olivia sprawled across my couch, glasses low on her nose with the TV still on ESPN and a book in her hands.
All the raging hormones spinning through my blood after the winning high ramped up even higher. “Well, this is new. I think I could get used to it.”
A massive yawn kept her from responding for a moment. “Hi. Polly let me in before she left. I thought I’d keep you company, but I guess I fell asleep. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Barnes, you could live on my couch if you wanted, but I think you’d find the bed more comfortable.”
The faintest hint of a blush stained her cheeks, and I wanted nothing more than to deepen it to scarlet.
“Probably. Good game, though.” Olivia closed the book and glanced over the glasses she only wore when her eyes were tired.
By now, I shouldn’t be shocked, or maybe I should—I didn’t know. But she’d been unable to attend andstillwatched me play. Something inside me imploded, and if I thought I wanted her before, it had nothing on how I felt now. “You watched me—I mean—the game?”
“What was left when I got here. I’m a big hockey fan now, didn’t you know?” When she pushed down the blanket to reveal—holy shit—the jersey I gave her, well, I was only a man, so I was almost instantly hard for her.
“This might be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Yeah,” she rolled her eyes, “the glasses and hair really make it.” Her hair twisted on top of her head in a floppy bun instead of its usual ponytail.
“You, Barnes. You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t care less about your hair. I do love the glasses though.”
