Page 109 of Hockey Wife

Fuck. Her mouth, the feel of her lips on his … the heat of her tits against his chest … the curve of her ass in his palm … it was all too much, sensory overload that did a perfect job of numbing the ache in his shoulder and sending all that blood and adrenaline to his groin. He kissed her like a starving man, and she took it, every nip, suck, and sloppy kiss he had to give her.

He charged up the stairs with this perfect woman in his arms. Once in the bedroom, he kicked the door shut. Cheddar was probably locked away, but old habits. He needed a cocoon, a space no one else could enter. This was their time.

With a quick pivot, he lay her on the bed, then peeled off his sweatshirt and threw it on the floor. He placed a hand on the waistband of his sweats. Georgia sat up and covered his hand with hers.

“Let me.”

He removed his hand, though really, he wanted to strip quickly. To lie over her, skin to skin. But if this was what she wanted, he’d obey every command she gave.

Tentatively she pulled his sweats down a couple of inches, then moved soft fingertips over one side of his V-cut. Then the other. Almost reverent.

Another few inches south with the sweats, and his cock showed up, ready for a shift.

“Oh, there you are, gorgeous.” Wrapping one soft hand around him, she stroked gently. He pulsed in her hand and let out a moan.

“Hold on. Back in a sec.” She hopped up quickly and left the room. What the fuck?

Twenty seconds later, she was back, the shadows unable to steal her light. In her hand was an ice pack.

“I got this ready before the game. I had a feeling you might need it.”

Jesus, this girl. “Yeah, I do.”

Smiling, she placed it over his shoulder. He pressed down on it with his right hand.

“Fuck!”

She dropped the hand that had returned to his dick. “Sorry! I forgot they were cold.”

A rough laugh escaped him. “Just surprised me.”

You’re constantly doing that.

She rubbed her hands together. “Might be better if you hold while I …” She licked the crown of his cock, and he forgot all about her cold hands and his aching shoulder and the two games they’d just lost. All he could focus on was Georgia’s pink lips and cat’s tongue and what she was about to do to him.

With his free hand he pumped his dick while she placed both hands on either side of his body.

“You gonna suck me, Peaches?”

“I might lick you first. All over.” She applied her tongue to the underside of his cock, flat against the pulsing vein, then worked it over from base to tip. Pearls of pre-come leaked from the slit and his good little kitty lapped it up before taking his cock head and sucking it into the wet warmth of her luscious mouth.

He lay back, reveling in the glory of his gorgeous wife sucking him off, taking him inside her sweet mouth, inch by hard inch. Watching her pleasure him was the hottest thing he’d ever experienced.

The pressure was building, his balls filling and needing release. Any second now …

“Gonna come, baby.”

She didn’t pull off. Just kept that perfect suction, her lovely mouth giving it her all, until he exploded and unloaded down her throat.

So good. So tired. But she needed him …

He pulled her up to lay by his side and yanked at her yoga pants. His hand between her thighs was like coming home.

“Banks, your shoulder.”

“Fuck my shoulder. My wife needs to come.” She was already so wet and on the edge of going off. He could tell from those needy little sounds, the way her body curled around his hand. He could tell from the way her eyes hazed over with desire yet still managed to lock onto his and give him everything he needed.

This connection. This moment.

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