Page 132 of Sin Bin Daddies
Ford’s lips trail over the exposed skin with something like reverence. His palms frame her hips, grounding her.
“I need to show you,” he murmurs. “Not tell you. Show you what you do to us.”
Asher kisses her again, deeper this time. Her arms wrap around his shoulders, anchoring herself.
She’s breathing faster, thighs shifting apart instinctively as Ford settles between them, his mouth moving lower, tongue tracing just below the waistband of her panties.
She arches, gasping, her head falling back against the arm of the couch. “God—Leo?—”
“I’m right here.” I move to her side, kneel, and catch her face in my hands. “Just breathe,cariño. Let us take care of you.”
Asher slips the hoodie off her completely, tossing it aside. Her skin is flushed, golden under the dim office light, and everything about her makes my pulse stutter.
Ford hooks his fingers under her panties and eases them down. She’s wet, glistening, her thighs trembling.
He doesn’t hesitate. His mouth finds her glistening cunt, and her whole body jerks. She moans, raw and desperate, hand flying to his hair.
“Shit—Ford?—”
Asher strokes her breasts, brushing his thumbs over her nipples until she’s gasping all over again. I kiss her cheek, her neck, her shoulder.
She’s overwhelmed, soft and open, and utterly undone, exactly how we want her. Her hips start to roll, and I know she’s close.
“You’re so perfect like this,” I whisper. “So fucking perfect.”
She chokes out a breath, thighs clenching. “I’m—don’t stop?—”
Ford doesn’t. He just digs in harder, holding her there until she cries out, loud and wild, her body shaking as her orgasm wrecks her.
A flush creeps up her neck, her eyes rolled back as she leaks down her thighs.
Gorgeous. She is so fucking beautiful.
Asher lifts her gently, easing onto the couch so she’s straddling his lap, chest to chest. I’m already unbuckling my belt. Ford stands and kisses her slow, tender.
“We’re not done,” he says, voice thick with hunger.
She clings to Asher, dazed and needy. “Please.”
I lift her chin and press my mouth to hers. “Anything you want,mi amor. Anything.”
“Fuck me please.”
Needless to say, we’re all late as we rush toward the arena five minutes after we’re supposed to be there.
The arena is packed. The Minnesota Hawks are relentless tonight, hammering toward our net like they’ve got something to prove.
I’m standing at the edge of the bench, calling out shifts, mentally logging every play, when I glance up into the stands.
There she is. Maddie.
Wearing that ridiculous Frostbite ice costume again. It clings to her belly, making her look absolutely adorable.
She’s twirling, handing out little foam pucks, laughing as a kid wraps his arms around her waist. Even from here, even in a crowd of twenty thousand, she’s the only thing I see.
God, she’s luminous.
Asher skates off the ice for a shift change. Ford bumps his glove. I call a play. The scoreboard blinks.
