Page 54 of Shoot Your Shot

Kolt is known in hockey nation as being the grumpy defenseman who only talks to the media when he absolutely has to. In most footage or photos taken of him, he wears the same unimpressed expression. But people don’t know that since he first made it to the NHL, he’s secretly donated to numerous causes, and he helps out whenever he can.

I mean, four Christmases ago, this man anonymously donated thousands upon thousands of dollars’ worth of gifts tothe homeless shelter in downtown Portland. The year after, he put on a hat and sunglasses and went to every angel tree in Southern Maine, took all the names off of each one, and fulfilled the wishes written on the tags, plus added something extra.

He’s got so much good inside of him, yet he never wants to be praised for any of it.

“Whatcha thinking about, Princess P?” he drawls lowly.

“Nothing,” I whisper, looking down at him and debating on jumping his bones right now.

I want him so badly that between my legs physically throbs. Blood pumps through me, stopping at my core, creating a rippling effect throughout my entire body. I swallow hard, knowing that he’ll probably just pull the same thing he did last night when I was in the hot tub and he told me we had to talk and not hide behind sex.

It’s not his fingers or even his tongue I’m longing for right now. It’s his huge cock, thrusting inside of me and making me feel whole again. I want his hands on my body. And I want his lips on mine. I want to fall apart together, over and over again.

His eyes darken, twinkling with need, as if he can hear my every thought, and I rub myself against him subtly, but enough to feel his cock twitch.

“Kolt.” My voice is throaty, and I grind myself more against his hardening length.

Something about feeling how much I turn him on … it drives me wild. Because even after being together for so long, I still do it for him.

And he sure as hell does it for me too.

His chin angles up as he grits his teeth. “I know what you want, Buttercup,” he rumbles. “But I’m not giving you my cock, baby. Not yet.”

“Why not?” I pout, rocking my hips slowly on his aching dick, salivating with need. “We deserve it, Kolt. After all we’ve been through … we owe it to ourselves.”

I know I sound like a drug addict, in need of my next fix. But, dammit, that’s what he does to me. Sometimes, I have no control over my actions when it comes to Kolt Kolburne.

His eyes move around my face, searching for something. And with every twitch of his cock, my pussy only grows greedier. His hands release from mine, and he clutches my hips. But not with need or force. Just … barely there.

“Kolt, it’s me,” I whine, sliding my hands down his chest and to his abdomen. “Yourwife.”

His grip on the flesh of my waist grows firmer, and his fingertips dig into my skin.

“I want nothing more than to slide inside of you. Thrusting in and out, deeper and deeper, as your pussy coats my cock before I remind you of just how fucking hard I can make you come.” He pushes me back and forth against his length. “But I won’t fuck you, Paige. Not until I know you’re going to stay.”

“Kolt … we have so much to figure out before we can make that decision,” I hiss in frustration. “And being together—like, really together—can’t you see that it will only bring us closer?”

I don’t know what I expect from him after saying those words. But it’s not him smirking, narrowing his eyes.

“That pussy must be throbbing, baby. You’re so desperate for me to fuck you, aren’t you?” he coos.

I nod eagerly, completely unashamed. “Yes,” I croak out. “Please.”

“I forgot how much of a little slut you can be when it comes to my dick, baby.” He tsks me. “But I meant what I said. No dick for you until you make your mind up if you’re going to stay and be my wife.” Dragging his hand up my back, he tangles his fingersin my hair. “Oh, and, Paige? If you do decide to stay, I’m not fucking you in a random place.”

What the …

His grasp tightens. “I’m fucking you in our bed.”

That seems to get her attention. Not like I didn’t already have it. I mean, fuck, my wife is practically dry-humping my cock through my sweatpants. And it’s taking all of my fucking willpower not to give in, take my cock out, rip her clothes off, and shove it inside of her heat. Especially since I know she’s fucking soaking wet.

And, fuck, it would feel so good on my cock to have her pussy dragging me deeper.

No, I’m not fucking doing it. Not until she makes her mind up.

Besides, I meant what I said. When I do bury myself inside of her, it’s going to be in our bedroom. And it’s going to be so many times and in so many ways that our sheets will be fucking soaked.

“But while I might not be willing to fuck you, I never said I wouldn’t get you off.” I cock my head to the side. “Get up.”

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