Page 50 of Enticing the Enforcer
Ever.
The rhythm builds between us, tension snapping tighter with every thrust, but I don’t give in too soon. I hold her there–keep her right at the edge–making her feel every second, every ounceof my claim. Her moans fill the room, raw and desperate, my name spilling from her lips like it’s the only word she knows.
“Come on me,” I grit out, nerves frayed, the need to see her unravel clawing at my chest. “I want to feel you come while I’m fucking you.”
I duck my head, flattening my tongue over her nipple, teasing and claiming at the same time. Her hips arch up in answer, body trembling, pulling the trigger I’ve been holding tight. And then she breaks–shattering against me, clutching at me like I’m the only thing tethering her to earth.
Her release rips through both of us, and I keep driving into her, owning every cry, every pulse of her body as mine. I don’t last much longer, rocking into her with a final, pulsing thrust.
That feeling, the way our bodies sweat and slide together, it’s a vow, seared straight into my bones.
She’s mine.
16
Ingrid
He spends the night.
He spends it next to me, and I’m consumed by him. By the hard lines of muscle. By the length of his thick, dark eyelashes. By the mouth that both says and does dirty, filthy things to me, and yeah, his cock–God–his cock, as he so crassly calls it… I didn’t know could be so magnificent.
It’s magnificent. I said it.
His magnificent penis made me feel things I didn’t know were possible.
Twice.
When morning drags itself into the room, he stirs first, pulling me back against the warmth of his chest. His lips brush the top of my head before finding my cheek, then lower, catching the corner of my mouth.
“Any regrets?” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep.
“Nope,” I whisper back, shifting against him. “Well… maybe that it took us so long to do that.”
He grins into my skin. “Nah. Just made it better.”
Then his mouth is on my throat, slow and hot, and my body reacts instantly. He’s already hard again, pressed thick and insistent against my hip. I should tell him no. I have another show tonight, a routine to follow. Teas to drink, vitamins to take, yoga to help stretch my limbs. Nothing, not even the sexiest hockey player alive, should drag me off schedule. I pay too many people to keep me focused.
Except…
The ache building between my thighs drowns out the sensible voice in my head. I roll onto him, pushing his broad shoulders into the mattress. His grin spreads wider when I swing a leg over his hips and settle down, straddling him. His hands grip my waist, steadying me as I drag my pussy over his length.
“You’re trouble,” he says, steel-gray eyes locked on me like he’s daring me not to finish what I started.
“Yeah,” I breathe, lining him up. “But, I’m pretty sure you love it.”
“Condom,” he grunts, hand failing for the bedside table.
There’s nothing but discarded wrappers.
“I’m on the pill,” I tell him, forcing my brain to work–to be responsible.
“We were tested before the playoffs. I’m clean.” We stare at one another for a long moment. It’s risky and dumb, but holy hell I want to feel him in me again. His hand reaches up to cup my face, “I haven’t slept with anyone since before then.”
What he’s saying is unspoken.Since he met me.
“I trust you,” I tell him, although it seems crazy. The decision is made more by my body than my mind, and I sink down in one long, slow stroke, and the stretch makes me gasp, makes his jaw go tight beneath me. My palms flatten on his chest, feeling every flex of muscle beneath my hands as I start to move.
“Fuck, Angel,” he groans, his hips rising to meet mine, filling me deeper.
