Page 56 of The Pucking Player

At my words, his eyes darken. He turns silent, watching me intently for a beat, then hums in a low voice, “That’s exactly what I intend to do, angel.” Without further warning, he swoops me into his arms. “How about we do the tour later?”

But it’s not really a question.

He carries me through a hallway and pauses at a door before pushing it open with his foot. The spacious room is dark save for the street lights coming through the large windows, casting shadows on a king-sized bed with a sleek, dark wood headboard. Slowly, he places me on the crisp white sheets, then lowers himself to me. His hands slide down my torso, and he pulls me against him. My heart hammers in my chest, the air leaving my lungs in one slow exhale.

How am I supposed to think with this boulder pressed against my abdomen?

“Breathe,” Liam whispers, his lips tracing a downward path on my neck and leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “Put your arms around my neck, angel,” he murmurs against my lips. I obey, placing my hands on his wide shoulders, melting from the way he looks down at me with his icy blue eyes. I can feel his hard cock pressing against me, and I want to feel more of it.

“What happens next?” I ask, panting.

He looks at me with an irresistible grin. “We fuck, angel. Deep, hard. All night long.”

My insides melt as I remember how his body felt inmine, my arousal throbbing between my legs. We kiss for a long time, slowly at first, until it turns frantic. He flips us over, never letting me go, his hands placed firmly on my hips, so that I’m straddling his waist.

He lifts up and grabs my hair, pulling me down, then he bites my neck possessively. “Rock onto me, angel,” he breathes, grinding into me. I do as he says, our eyes locked. My body responds, quivering in delight.

He lifts us up and removes my sweater and jersey. Then he sits me up and reaches around me to unclip my bra, my breasts spilling out. His eyes drop, and he leans down, taking a nipple in his mouth, then the other. Slowly, he slides my pants and underwear down my legs, discarding them to the floor.

“Gorgeous,” he rumbles in approval as he takes me in, spread on his sheets naked and vulnerable. I pant wildly as he stands up and takes off his clothes. “I’m going to slip into something more comfortable.” He smirks as he removes his briefs and reveals his dick, large and heavy between his legs. It’s engorged with dark, pulsating veins running down the length of it.

Leaning down, he digs into the pocket of his trousers, taking out a condom and placing it on the side table. He pushes me back down on the mattress, then leaves scorching kisses down my breasts and stomach, traveling lower and lower.

“Spread your legs wide for me. I want to taste you.”

I obey, and he flicks his tongue against my swollen opening, tracing his tongue up and down my slit, his finger finding my clit and rubbing it with his thumb. “Wider.”

My body rocks against his face, shuddering.

“You’re soaked.” He grabs the condom and rolls it on, then rises above me, positioning himself at my entrance. Inone long stroke, he pushes forward, then pulls out. “Kiss me,” he breathes, then thrusts back in. He slowly eases himself in and out, his face contorted as if he is in pain.

“W…what’s wrong?” I stammer.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You feel so good, angel. I can hardly hold it.” He closes his eyes, then thrusts back in again, slowly and deliberately. He moves in deep circles, stretching me, giving me pleasure I never knew was possible.

“You like that?”

“Oh, I do. Keep on going, big guy.”

He grabs my ankle and wraps my leg around his hip. He’s frying my brain. His hands find my ass, and he flips me over so that I’m straddling him again, his dick buried deep inside of me.

“Take what’s yours,” he says, his hands guiding my hips. But I hardly need guidance anymore. Our bodies begin to slap together, and I lurch forward, a wave ofrelease from deep within washing over me.

“Oh…fuck,” he groans, and begins to thrust harder. Then his eyes roll back, and he is still for a moment.

I collapse against his chest, his heartbeat thrumming against mine.

21

LOADING THE BAR

LIAM

Iwake to the crisp light of a cold January morning filtering through my floor-to-ceiling windows. The sky outside is a brilliant, cloudless blue—the kind that promises a bitter cold day.

My bed feels different this morning. Unusual. Warmer. Because of the woman curled up next to me.

Sophie is still fast asleep, her dark hair fanned out across my pillow. Her face is peaceful, lips slightly parted, long lashes resting against her cheeks. The ivory sheets are tangled around her naked body, rising and falling gently with each breath, and I feel my dick stirring.

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