Page 20 of Slap Shot
They stayed like that for long minutes, Oliver's fingers tracing patterns on her sweat-dampened skin while their breathing slowly returned to normal. But when she shifted against him, feeling him still semi-hard against her thigh, heat began building in her belly again.
"Again?" Oliver asked.
"I didn't know I could..." she started, then trailed off, embarrassed by her own neediness.
"Could what, baby?" His hand slid down her stomach, fingers dancing just above where she was already growing slick again. "Tell me what you want."
"I want you again," she whispered. "But different this time. I want to..."
"What?" His thumb brushed over her clit, making her gasp. "Use your words, Heather."
The commanding tone in his voice made her core clench. "I want to be on top."
Oliver's eyes went dark. "Fuck yes. I want to watch you ride me."
He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him until she straddled his hips. The new position made her feel powerful and exposed all at once, especially with the way he was looking at her—like she was a goddess he wanted to worship.
"You're so beautiful like this," he said, hands settling on her hips as she positioned herself above him. "All flushed and wanting me."
She sank down slowly, taking him inch by inch until he was buried completely inside her. The angle was different this time, deeper, and she had to pause to adjust to the sensation.
"Take your time," Oliver said, though she could see the strain in his jaw, the way his fingers dug into her hips. "Set the pace you need."
That's what did it. The way he put her pleasure first, even when she could see how badly he wanted to thrust up into her. She began to move, rolling her hips in a rhythm that made them both groan.
"That's it," he encouraged, one hand sliding up to cup her breast. "Use me. Take what you need."
She found her rhythm, riding him with increasing confidence as pleasure built inside her. When Oliver's thumb found herclit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves in time with her movements, she threw her head back with a cry.
"Look at me," he commanded. "I want to see you when you come."
Their eyes locked as the orgasm crashed over her, more intense than the previous two. She clamped down around him, and Oliver followed with a harsh groan, his hips bucking up into her as he spilled inside the condom.
She collapsed forward onto his chest, both of them breathing hard again. Oliver's arms came around her, holding her close as aftershocks rippled through her system.
"We should probably get some sleep," she murmured against his throat, though she made no move to separate from him.
"Probably," he agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "But I'm not ready to let you go yet."
"Then don't," she whispered.
They dozed intermittently, waking to touch and kiss and eventually make love a third time—slow and gentle in the pre-dawn darkness, with Oliver spooned behind her, his mouth hot against her neck as he moved inside her with lazy, deep thrusts that made her come with quiet intensity.
When morning light finally crept through her blinds, Heather woke to find Oliver already awake, watching her with dark eyes that held promises of more nights like this one.
"Morning," she said softly, suddenly shy in the daylight.
"Morning, beautiful." He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Any regrets?"
She thought about it for a moment, taking in his sleep-rumpled hair and the satisfied smile playing on his lips. "Only that we waited this long."
Oliver's answering grin was pure male satisfaction. "We've got plenty of time to make up for it."
Chapter Six
Heather
Heather woke slowly, her body deliciously sore in places that reminded her exactly how she'd spent the previous night. Oliver's arm was draped across her waist, his breathing deep and even against her neck. For a moment, she allowed herself to simply exist in this perfect bubble—warm sheets, satisfied exhaustion, and the solid presence of a man who'd made her feel things she'd forgotten were possible.
