Page 53 of On Thin Ice

I finally understood what all the fuss was about.

It wasn’t just about sex.

It was aboutthis. About giving yourself over to someone completely. About being the reason they made those sounds, wore those desperate, wrecked expressions.

I was already addicted to him, to this, to every broken sound he made for me.

I pulled off with a wet pop and grinned up at him, feeling reckless and loose and high.

“Lie down,” I said, tapping his side.

Bell blinked down at me, a little bit dazed at the abrupt change, but immediately did as he was told, sprawling against the pillows.

I knelt between his legs, drinking in the sight of him. His hole was still sloppy from where I’d fucked him, slick and shining in the low light.

I couldn’t stop myself from reaching down and pressing two fingers against him, teasing him, loving watching him squirm as I worked him open. I slid my fingers inside him, easy and smooth, and his entire body jolted, his hands scrabbling at the sheets.

“Jesus Christ,” he moaned.

I leaned down and wrapped my mouth around his cock again, sucking greedily as I fucked my fingers into him.

He writhed under me, breathless and begging, his hips jerking up to fuck my mouth while my fingers stretched him wide.

I sucked him deep, then pulled back to tease just the head, my tongue flicking his slit, tasting pre-come and sweat andhim.

Every time he got close—every time his thighs tensed and he made that helpless, broken, needy sound in the back of his throat—I pulled off.

He whimpered.

Begged.

Swore.

I was drunk on the sound of it, on the way his body shook, on how desperately he tried to chase his orgasm every time I denied it.

“You ready to come for me again?” I taunted, pumping my fingers harder, crooking them just right.

“Yes, fuck, please, let me, I need …” he stammered, so far gone his words weren’t even making sense.

I sucked him deep again, and that was all it took. He came with a hoarse cry, spilling down my throat, his body bowing up off the bed.

I swallowed every drop, greedy for it, just like he said, not willing to waste a single drop.

When I finally pulled off, Bell was spread out on my bed, panting, trembling.

Perfect.

Beautiful.

Mine.

He blinked up at me, his eyes dazed. His lips, swollen and red, were parted as he struggled to catch his breath, his skin flushed and gleaming with a fine sheen of sweat. “You’re gonna kill me,” he rasped, his chest heaving.

I just grinned and crawled up next to him, tucking myself against his side. The comforter was damp and rumpled, and in desperate need of a washing. The room smelled of sex and sweat andus, a heady combination that made something in me purr with satisfaction.

I needed to invest in several sets of backup sheets because if we kept fucking like this, I’d have to quit my job and devote all my free time to doing laundry.

Bell looped an arm around me without hesitation, pulling me closer until I could feel his heartbeat gradually slowing against my cheek.

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