Page 65 of The Mistletoe Trap
He plucked the wrapper from her hand, and she lunged for it. “Hey. I had a whole speech.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” he said, light enough for her to avoid taking offense. He yanked her to him and kissed her hard on the mouth. With his lips and tongue wrestling her into supplication, a fevered sense of urgency destroyed everything else that existed in the world besides her, Gavin, and this bedroom.
Last second, she snatched the condom. The way he watched her roll it on amplified every sultry sensation currently coursing through her. Once she’d secured the latex in place, she lifted herself up and onto him, unable to wait one more second.
Gavin’s vise grip on her hips intensified as she slid down his shaft, and as hot as his watching her had been a moment ago, this sparked a whole new level of arousal.
A strangled noise emanated from his throat as she reached the hilt, and she let out a whimper herself as the head of his penis hit a spot so deep inside her, it did feel like they’d become one.
Then he pumped into her.
Julie’s carnal side roared to life, and she moved in time with the pistoning of his hips. Due to his size—both of his erection and in general—her psoas muscles were stretched to the limit. Seriously, how did guys do this for so long?
Maybe that’s why they all finish so fast.
Gavin grunted, and she batted away the sense of disappointment, since she’d already had an amazing orgasm. But instead of coming, he rolled. The instant her back hit the bed, he slammed into her, their hips knocking together.
A keening noise she’d never made before filled the air between them, and she gathered fistfuls of the sheets in both hands, sure she’d float away if she didn’t. Gavin’s gaze latched on to hers, and the image of him over her, beads of sweat pricking his forehead as he lost himself inside her, would be seared in her mind forever.
“Damn, you feel amazing.” Gavin twined his fingers with hers and pinned her hands to the mattress. “You’re perfect. This is perfect.”
“Yeah, this,” she rasped. “This is exactly what I needed.”
Fire replaced the blood in her veins, and she gave herself over to the decadent burn. Every thrust, every meeting of their abdomens fueled the flames until the inferno nearly overwhelmed her.
And then she could sense the mythical unicorn of orgasms building—the elusive vaginal kind she’d suspected might not be a possibility for her. She was almost afraid to move or breathe in case she chased it away, but her legs began to quiver, and she dug her fingernails into his biceps. “I’m so close, Gavin.”
“What do you need to push you over?” he asked.
After a second of hesitation, she went all in. “Um, you could pull my hair a little?”
A roguish smile spread across his face. “Gladly.” Pins and needles coursed over her scalp as he pushed his fingers into her loose curls. He wound a section of hair around his fist, and she basked in the prickle of pleasure and pain.
One more sharp tug, and she plunged into the abyss, crying out Gavin’s name as the world fell out from underneath her. Thanks to the iron fingers on her wrist and twined in her hair, she relinquished control, unafraid of hitting bottom.
A handful of seconds—or maybe even minutes?—later, her soul returned from its metaphysical journey. She beamed at the ridiculously attractive man who’d sent her there. “Mmmm, that was amazing. Now, what do you need?”
“You,” he said, sinking deeper into her and inclining his head to kiss her lips. “Just you.”
…
As much as conditioning sucked, Gavin was grateful for his, as well as his self-control. He hadn’t been entirely prepared for how amazingly well he and Julie fit together, and for one stressful instant, he’d been afraid he’d end up being another disappointing lay for her.
Determined not to let that happen, he’d called upon his training and told himself to make it through the fucking game. As she’d come, her walls had clenched so tightly, he’d barely survived. But being able to watch the show had been worth the wait and then some.
A quick switch-up of angles, and black dots danced across his vision. Every ounce of his blood rushed south, and pressure built and built as he pumped into her.
Julie wrapped her legs around his waist, every part of her squeezing that much harder.
Her lips touched his, and thenboom, detonation. Gratification flowed, each wave more overpowering than the last. He emptied himself, riding the aftershock of his release until his bones became rubble and debris and nothing else existed but him and Julie.
Through the haze, he reminded himself not to crush her. He stumbled to the trash can to quickly dispose of the condom, and then fell onto the bed beside her, his chest heaving with the breaths he’d missed and would gladly go without if this was the result. “That was…”
Julie shifted to face him and, in a trance, he reached for her. All of five seconds apart, and he craved having her skin against his again. She snuggled tighter, and he secured an arm around her, taking comfort the resulting pinch in his shoulder felt fairly insignificant.
He could only imagine his trainers and coaches asking what had caused his recovery hiccup. Earlier today he’d informed them he was doing his PT and had a masseuse who was working miracles—and by masseuse he meant Jules. He’d also informed them he was improving leaps and bounds and ready to get back on the field. Most of the guys would understand taking a risk for sex, but that didn’t mean they’d be any less pissed.
If Gavin let himself go there, he’d end up angry at himself, and he didn’t want to ruin the here and now. Even if he could, he wouldn’t undo it, and considering this might be the one and only time he shared this level of intimacy with his gorgeous best friend, he intended to savor it.
