Page 25 of Dreams on the Ice

Chapter

Twelve

BROOKLYNN

I rear back,slamming my ass into Forrest’s hips as he pushes forward and lets out a groan. His hand lands hard against the cheek of my ass, and I know that my skin turns pink instantly.

Forrest grunts but doesn’t stop moving in and out of me, his hips slamming against my ass with each thrust. His rhythm is pure perfection. I didn’t anticipate him as an athlete being so damn coordinated, but he really is. His rhythm is impeccable.

He knows exactly what I want and when I want it. There’s no need to tell him, and there is certainly no guessing on his part.

God.

So. Good.

I wasn’t sure what would happen when we came home, but Forrest wasn’t unsure at all. He knew exactly what would happen, and that was me. And what would be happening is this. Over and over.

We have been home for three days, and every single night, we’ve ended up in one another’s bed. If I had to put a label on us,I would call us boyfriend and girlfriend, but I haven’t talked to him about it, and I’m not sure I want to.

If he doesn’t want to label us, I think I would be pretty upset about that… considering the fact I’m falling for him.

Falling hard.

Like, all the way down the abyss and into a deep, dark, never-ending hole, I’ve fallen for this man in every way I could have ever imagined possible, and I’m scared to death. Absolutely terrified.

But I’m not too scared to continue this with him because it’s hot, and it feels unequivocally exceptional every single time.

“Please,” I whimper, climbing higher and higher.

I’m about to come, and when I do, I know it’s going to be out of this world. It’s going to flow through me like warm honey, and Icannotwait.

“Touch yourself, honey. Make yourself come. I can’t wait to feel it.”

He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I am ready to rock and fucking roll. Slipping my hand between my legs, I touch my clit. It doesn’t take long, one circle, two, then three, before I cry out with my release.

Forrest thrusts hard and fast between my legs, the rhythm lost to him. His fingers grip my hips, digging into my flesh. I’m going to have bruising. I know I am, but I don’t care. The orgasm that is still flowing through me keeps going as he continues to fuck me, and then he buries himself deep and stills.

I feel his cock twitch inside of me, and I let out a heavy sigh as he bends and presses his chest against my back. Lowering down to the mattress, I turn my head and rest my cheek against the cool sheet.

His lips touch the side of my neck, his tongue tasting me before he lets out a chuckle. “Fuck me, Brooklynn, how does it get better every time?”

Slowly, he pulls out of me and lies on his back, but he’s not alone for long. He wraps his arms around me and drags me across the bed and against his side. Placing my chin on his pec, I look up into his eyes.

Forrest’s fingers gently glide up my spine and tangle in my hair, tugging my head back slightly. As I look into his eyes, I can’t believe I’m here, that he’s mine. At least in my mind, he’s all mine. I don’t know if it’s real or not, and I’m not sure I want to know, either.

“I don’t know, but it does, doesn’t it?” I ask.

He hums as his fingers continue to comb my hair. “Yeah,” he agrees with a grunt.

I open my mouth to ask him what we are but then snap my lips closed and decide against it. Asking him something like that is just going to ruin it all, and I really like where we are. Sleeping beside him every night, having him inside of me twice a day, it’s been beyond amazing. I don’t even have words to describe it.

“I don’t know either, but I fucking love being with you, honey.”

Shifting my head to the side, I rest my cheek against his chest and close my eyes. I allow myself all of this, even knowing that it won’t last forever. Because I’m not an idiot. Forrest is a professional athlete. He comes from old money and can have whatever he wants in this world—whoever he wants.

There is no way he’s ever going to pick me. Not forever. So, I’m going to soak all of this up. Lying with him, fucking him, everything. Every part of being with him. I’m going to let it all marinate.

FORREST

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