Page 55 of Slap Shot
"Bedroom," she breathed against his lips.
He carried her down the hall to his room, setting her down gently beside his bed. The space was distinctly masculine, dark furniture, clean lines, a single photograph of him and Charlie on the nightstand.
They undressed each other slowly, reverently. There was no desperate tearing of clothes, no frantic fumbling with buttons. Every touch was deliberate, meaningful. When Oliver's shirt fell away, Heather pressed her palms flat against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her hands.
"I thought I'd lost you," she whispered, tracing the familiar scars that told the story of his hockey career. "When I realized you'd gone to face Kai alone, I thought—"
"Shh." Oliver caught her hands in his, bringing them to his lips to press soft kisses to her palms. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
When her bra fell away, he cupped her breasts reverently, thumbs brushing over her nipples until they peaked into tight buds. "So beautiful," he murmured, bending to take one into his mouth, sucking gently while his tongue swirled around the sensitive tip. "So perfect, and so mine."
The possessive words sent heat flooding through her core, making her pussy clench with need.
They sank onto the bed together, hands mapping familiar territory with new tenderness. When Oliver's mouth traileddown her body, he lingered over every inch of skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her ribs, her stomach, the sensitive spots that made her arch beneath him.
"I love you," he said against her skin, his breath hot against her belly. "I love your strength, your brilliance, your stubborn refusal to let me face anything alone."
Heather's breath caught as he settled between her spread thighs, his broad shoulders forcing her legs wider. When his tongue made the first slow pass through her slick folds, she gasped his name.
"So sweet," he murmured against her pussy, the vibration making her hips buck. "So wet for me already. I love how you taste, how you respond to my mouth."
This was worship, pure and simple. Oliver used his tongue with patient devotion, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on her clit, building her pleasure with deliberate care.
"Oliver, please," she gasped, her hands fisting in his dark hair as he slid two thick fingers inside her, curling them to hit that perfect spot. "Don't stop, that feels so good."
"Never," he promised against her flesh, his fingers pumping slowly while his tongue worked magic on her clit. "I could do this for hours, make you come on my tongue over and over."
The combination of his skilled mouth and gentle fingers pushed her steadily toward the edge. When her orgasm finally crashed over her, she cried out his name, her thighs trembling around his head as waves of pleasure rolled through her.
"Come here," she whispered, reaching for him with trembling hands.
Oliver moved up her body, settling between her thighs. She could see his cock, thick and hard and already slick at the tip, and the sight made fresh moisture pool between her legs.
"I need you inside me," she said, wrapping her hand around his length and guiding him to her entrance. "I need to feel all of you."
When he pushed inside, they both went still, overwhelmed by the intensity of connection. He was thick and deep, stretching her in the most perfect way, and she could feel every inch of him as he filled her completely.
"Fuck, you feel incredible," Oliver breathed, his forehead dropping to rest against hers. "So tight and wet and perfect around my cock."
"I love you," she said, looking directly into his eyes as he began to move within her. The rhythm was slow and deep, each thrust deliberate and measured. "I love your protective instincts even when they drive me crazy. I love how gentle you are with Charlie, how fierce you are when someone threatens the people you care about."
"I love you too," he said, his voice rough with emotion as he moved within her pussy with long, deep strokes. "God, Heather, you feel like home. Like everything I never knew I needed."
There was no urgency now, no desperate need to claim or possess. This was about connection, about two people who had found each other against all odds and chosen to build something real together. Oliver's cock filled her completely with each measured thrust, hitting spots deep inside that made her see stars.
They moved together in perfect synchronization, building toward release with unhurried devotion. Oliver's thick length stroked her inner walls with exquisite friction, and she could feel her orgasm building slowly, like warm honey spreading through her veins.
"I can feel you getting close," Oliver murmured, adjusting his angle to hit her G-spot with each thrust. "Your pussy is getting so tight around me. Come for me, love. Let me feel you."
"With me," she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as the pleasure crested. "Come with me, Oliver."
They fell over the edge together, their bodies locked in perfect unity as her orgasm rippled through her in deep, consuming waves. Oliver's cock pulsed inside her as he spilled himself deep, both of them crying out each other's names as pleasure overwhelmed them completely.
They stayed joined for long minutes afterward, neither wanting to break the connection. When he finally moved to withdraw, Heather made a soft sound of protest.
"Not yet," she whispered. "Please. I need to feel you a little longer."
Oliver settled back against her, pulling the covers over them both. They lay entwined in the gathering darkness, skin to skin, heart to heart.
