Page 37 of On Thin Ice

He crawled over me, his body blotting out the light. His weight settled on me, delicious and grounding, his cock sliding against mine as he ground his hips down. The friction pulled a gasp from my throat that echoed in the quiet room.

“Tell me what you want,” he breathed against my mouth, his voice a hoarse whisper as he pulled back slightly and gazed down at me with something tender in his expression. He was so close I could see the ring of darker blue around his pupils, the tiny flecks of silver near the center as his eyes flicked over my face, searching.

For a second, I couldn’t speak. The words caught in my throat, trapped behind years of denial and silence. I was so used to pretending I didn’t want anything, didn’t need anything. Had become an expert at burying desire so deep even I couldn’t find it.

But I wasn’t strong enough to lie anymore. Not with Bell pressed against me like this, his skin fever-hot against mine.

“I want you to fuck me. I want you inside me.” The confession tore from me like something physical, leaving me feeling raw and exposed.

Bell froze, every muscle in his body going rigid.

“You thought I’d want to top, didn’t you?” I asked, my sudden laugh coming out sounding a bit manic, too high and strained.

“I mean, yeah,” he said, a tiny vertical line appearing between his brows, the one I’d noticed he got whenever he was concentrating on something. “That’s why I said you can have my hole. Did we …” He blew out a breath and sat up, his thighs bracketing my hips. “Do we need to take a beat and talk this out?”

I pushed up onto my elbows, my eyes latching onto his beautiful dick, the head flushed dark and glistening with pre-cum. I could feel my mouth watering, remembering how he’d tasted—salt and musk and something uniquely Bell.

I dragged my eyes regretfully away to meet his concerned gaze.

“I’ve never been fucked,” I admitted, my tongue darting out to moisten suddenly parched lips. “That wasn’t really how things were with … the other guy.” I caught myself just before saying Drake’s name. I wasn’t the only one in that situation who’d been too afraid to own up to my sexuality, and I didn’t want to accidentally out him. “It’s uh … something I’ve wanted for a long time.”

“Have you never fucked yourself—with a dildo I mean? Or your fingers?”

I shook my head. “No dildos. Tried with my fingers, but couldn’t get a good angle. Not with my fucked up shoulder.”

His eyes flicked to the long scar there, the result of surgery I’d had after college.

“And you’re sure you don’t want to work up to that? There’s so much else we can do. So many ways I can make you feel good.”

“No,” I told him, my answer emphatic. “I need this.”

He studied me for a few long heartbeats before he gave me a single nod. “All right then. Whatever you need, E. Just say the word.”

“The word is I need you to fuck me so hard I can’t think straight.” The words rushed out, a dam breaking after years of pressure. “I need you to take control. I need to stop thinking. I need you to—” I broke off, my hips arching up off the bed as Bell scraped his nails over my nipples, the sensation shooting straight to my dick, sharp and electric.

I made a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a growl. To keep from crying out his name, I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

He leaned over me, his thumb brushing my lower lip. The gentle touch was a stark contrast to the intensity burning in his eyes. “Shhh, I’ve got you.”

And then he kissed me again, deeper this time. Sensual. Seductive. His tongue licked into my mouth slowly, tasting me like he had all the time in the world.

I whimpered into his mouth, wrapping my legs around his hips. My heels dug into the small of his back, trying to pull him closer, to eliminate any space between us.

He pulled back just enough to whisper, “Tell me if you need to stop.”

“I won’t,” I vowed, dragging him back down and rocking up into him.

“Easy,” he murmured against my lips. “You said you wanted me to take charge, so let me.”

I nodded, even as I tried to grind against him again. My body seemed to have a mind of its own, chasing pleasure, seeking contact.

Bell chuckled, low and wicked, and he nipped at my jaw before kissing his way down my throat, biting at the juncture where my neck met my shoulder and then easing the sting with his tongue.

The contrast between sharp pain and soothing pleasure made my toes curl against the sheets, and I cried out, clutching at his shoulders, feeling the play of muscle beneath his skin as he moved.

“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” he rasped, dragging his mouth across my chest.

When his teeth scraped over my nipple, I damn near came off the bed. My back arched involuntarily, pressing me further into his mouth. He continued teasing me with slow, lazy drags of his tongue.

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