Page 38 of Slap Shot
Oliver's laugh was dark as he worked his way down her body, pressing kisses to her ribs, her stomach, the sensitive spot just above her navel that made her squirm. When he reached the waistband of her skirt, he looked up to meet her eyes.
"Lift up for me," he said, his hands already working the zipper.
She obeyed, raising her hips so he could slide the fabric down her legs along with her matching black panties. The sight of her spread before him, completely bare and glistening with arousal, made his mouth water.
"So wet already," he observed with satisfaction, running a single finger through her slick folds. "Is this all for me?"
"You know it is," she said, trying to rock against his hand for more pressure.
Oliver knelt between her spread thighs, his breath hot against her most sensitive skin. "I'm going to eat this sweet pussy until you forget your own name," he said. "And you're going to stay quiet while I do it."
The first broad stroke of his tongue made her cry out before she could stop herself, her hand flying to cover her mouth. Oliver chuckled against her flesh, the vibration making her hips buck.
"That's it," he encouraged, using the tip of his tongue to circle her clit with maddening precision. "Let me taste how much you want me."
He alternated between broad strokes and focused attention, learning what made her thighs tremble and what made her bitedown on her own hand to stay quiet. When he slid two fingers inside her, curling them to hit that perfect spot, Heather had to grab a pencil holder to keep from screaming.
"So tight," he murmured against her, pumping his fingers in rhythm with his tongue. "I love how you grip my fingers like you never want to let me go."
"Don't stop," she begged, her free hand tangling in his dark hair. "Please don't stop, I'm so close."
Oliver doubled his efforts, sucking her clit into his mouth while his fingers worked magic inside her. When her orgasm hit, she came apart with a muffled scream, her body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.
He worked her through it, gentling his touch as she came down from the high. When he finally pulled away, his lips and chin were shiny with her arousal, and the sight made fresh heat pool in her belly.
"My turn," she said breathlessly, sliding off the desk and switching places with him.
Oliver's eyes went dark as she pushed him back against the desk, her hands already working at his belt. "Heather, you don't have to."
"I want to," she interrupted, freeing his cock from his pants and wrapping her hand around the thick length. "I want to taste you. Want to feel you hit the back of my throat."
The crude words from her usually professional mouth made Oliver groan. When she dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth without preamble, his head fell back with a harsh curse.
"Fuck, your mouth," he breathed. "So fucking perfect."
She took him deeper, using her tongue to trace the prominent vein on the underside of his cock before pulling back to focus on the sensitive head. Oliver's breathing became ragged,his hips fighting the urge to thrust into the wet heat of her mouth.
"Stand up." He tugged gently on her hair. "I need to be inside you. Now."
She rose gracefully, turning to face the desk and bracing her hands on the surface. She was completely bent over, her ass in the air and her back arched in a way that made Oliver's vision blur with want.
"Like this?" she asked, looking back at him with hooded eyes.
"Exactly like that," he growled, running his hands over the perfect curve of her ass before positioning himself at her entrance.
When he pushed inside, they both groaned at the sensation. This angle was deeper than before, more intense, and Heather had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.
She gasped, her knuckles white where she gripped the desk edge.
He started with shallow thrusts, letting her adjust to the new position before gradually increasing his pace. Each movement drove him deeper, hitting spots that made Heather see stars.
"Is this what you wanted?" he asked, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining control.
"Yes," she moaned, pushing back to meet his thrusts. "Harder. I need more."
Oliver's control snapped. He gripped her hips and set a punishing rhythm, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the quiet office. Heather buried her face in her arms to muffle her cries, overwhelmed by the intensity of sensation.
"Such a good girl," he praised, one hand sliding up her spine to tangle in her hair. "Taking my cock so perfectly. You love being fucked like this, don't you?"
