Page 39 of On Thin Ice

I’d never begged like this for anything in my life before, but then, I’d never wanted anything as badly as I wanted Stryker Bell inside of me.

For a long, terrible second, I thought he was going to tell me no, that this wasn’t happening.

But then his eyes fluttered closed, a fan of bronze lashes against flushed cheeks, and I watched as his whole body literally shuddered, a ripple moving from his shoulders down to his toes like an electric current passing through him. When he opened his eyes again, there was something devastating in his gaze, hunger mixed with vulnerability.

“I know … I know everyone thinks I’m just this fuckboy who puts his dick in any willing hole, but that’s not who I am,” he said hoarsely, the words scraping out of his throat as if it cost him something to say them.

“I know.” I didn’t even have to think about my response. If that’s who he was, I wouldn’t be here right now.

“I’ve had three partners in the last two years,” he continued, his eyes never leaving mine, his gaze earnest and open in a way that made me both want to look away and never stop looking all at once. “And I get tested every three months regardless. I’m also on PrEP, have been for years. I’m careful.”

“I know. I trust you, Bell.” I reached my hand out toward him. “Now get over here and fuck me.”

CHAPTER10

Bell stared at me for a long moment, as if he were weighing a million decisions, calculating the risks and the rewards with each heartbeat. “Are we really doing this, E?” he eventually whispered, the question hanging in the air between us.

“Please,” I begged, the single syllable carrying the weight of years of denial and need.

He let out a low sound—not quite a moan, not quite a sigh—and crawled back onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight as he covered me with his body.

He pressed our foreheads together, his breath mingling with mine. “You’re going to wreck me, aren’t you?” The words ghosted across my lips, half-question, half-prophecy.

I huffed out a broken laugh. “You? I’malreadywrecked.” My hands trembled as they found purchase on his shoulders, fingers digging into muscle.

Bell’s lips tipped to the side in a smirk, a flash of the cocky young man I’d first met breaking through the intensity of the moment. “And to think, I’m just getting started.” He sat back and tore the lube open and slicked his fingers before reaching down to touch me where I was still wet and aching from his tongue.

His fingers circled my hole, teasing me with slow, shallow touches that made my hips jerk helplessly against his hand, my body betraying my desperation. The sheets beneath me were damp with sweat, twisting under my restless movements.

“Relax, baby,” he murmured, his voice sweet and so fucking patient, a stark contrast to the hunger I could see burning in his eyes. “Let me in.”

I wanted to. God, I wanted to.

The need for him to be inside me was a physical ache, a hollow emptiness I needed him to fill.

But relaxing wasn’t something I knew how to do.

Not when every muscle in my body was locked up tight and desperate for him to justtakeme already.

I didn’t want soft or gentle or loving. I wanted him tofuckme. To pound into me until I couldn’t remember my own name, until I couldn’t remember all the reasons I’d spent years denying myself this.

But to do that, he had to get inside me first.

“You’re too tense,” Bell said, his voice gentle but firm as his finger continued to circle my entrance without pushing in. “Take a deep breath for me.”

I did as he asked, filling my lungs.

“Now, when you exhale, I want you to bear down a little, like you’re pushing against my finger. I know it sounds counterintuitive, but trust me.”

I shot him a skeptical look, but he just nodded encouragingly. “It works. I promise.”

I blew out a long breath, my ribs expanding and contracting with the effort. I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking out the sight of him watching me with such careful attention, and bore down as I exhaled.

The broad tip of his finger slid into me with almost no resistance. The intrusion burned slightly, but the discomfort was quickly overtaken by a wave of pleasure that made me gasp as my nerve endings lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

“That’s it,” he crooned, his free hand stroking my thigh, gentling me. “Look at you taking my finger so good. See? Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind’s fighting it.”

He worked me open with relentless care, sinking one finger deep and crooking it just right until I saw stars behind my eyelids. The pressure sent lightning up my spine, making my toes curl and my back arch off the mattress. I cried out, the sound bouncing off the hotel room walls.

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