Adrian: An Ironfield Forge Hockey Romance

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Adrian: An Ironfield Forge Hockey Romance Page 11

by Frost, Sosie


  “So is your orgasm.”

  “Haven’t had many before.” Her eyes widened as she looked away. “Especially independent of a hot tub. I think I’ll survive if we just…get down to business.”

  Oh, fuck no. “No deal.”

  She clutched her neck, inadvertently tugging her robe tighter over her curves. The satin rose up, up, up, teasing her hips.

  And she had no idea what she did to me.

  “It’s awkward, Adrian.”

  “So…you think a night of bad sex is less awkward than me blowing your mind?”

  “I don’t know!” She flailed her arms, and I dodged the blow to my kidneys. “I’ve never had sex, Adrian. I know what to do, but I don’t know know what to do, you know?”

  “No?”

  She sighed. “You’re practiced. I’m not. No matter what I do, it won’t be as good as you’ve had before. So, I just hoped that maybe…I could be thoroughly unforgettable to you.”

  “You? Unforgettable?”

  “And maybe that’d make it less awkward. Maybe it wouldn’t ruin everything. Maybe you could have a little fun, and I could get the baby, and we’d just laugh about it all in a few years.”

  What was the worst sin? Jeopardizing a lifelong friendship with the only soul in this world who understood me…or allowing this woman to go another moment without experiencing the true pleasure of my bed?

  But what exactly was that pleasure?

  I wasn’t a gentle guy. Wasn’t the sort of lover who could tenderly lay a virgin down, nestle between her thighs, and gently rock us to orgasm.

  I was a hair-pulling, throat-choking, ass-smacking son of a bitch who turned his women into hell-cats who begged for more orgasms while impaled on my cock.

  I’d never made love before.

  But there was no way in hell I’d treat Clover the way I’d fucked my other lovers. I’d take it slow and steady. Soft touches. Murmured words. Secret kisses. She deserved that.

  Even if I didn’t.

  “I’m going to make love to you, Clover. If you want this baby…then we do it my way.”

  She nibbled her bottom lip, and I envied the tug of her teeth. “And what’s…your way?”

  I smiled.

  “I’m going to take my time with you.” I drew close to her, staring down at a woman smaller than the devil’s heart and burning hotter than his throne. “And I’m going to show you exactly what sex is all about.”

  “Is that…a good idea?”

  “Only if you want to be pleasured. Truly pleasured. Worshiped like the goddess you are.” I hardened, but she didn’t seem to notice, lost in the baritone of my promise. “I will give you a night of unrepentant pleasure so intense that every time you touch yourself, you’ll remember my kiss, my cock, my seed.”

  Her breath puffed in a shaky pant. “Don’t you think that might make this…harder?”

  “Are you worried about enjoying yourself?”

  “Aren’t you worried about enjoying it too much?”

  “And what would come of that except you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I reached for her, claiming her delicate hand within my own. She staggered as I tugged her to my chest. “You asked me to make a baby with you, but, to do that…I have to take your virginity. That’s not a responsibility I take lightly, and I won’t treat it like a naughty fantasy. This should be a celebration of our friendship. I won’t taint that gift because you’re afraid of a little pleasure.”

  Her voice softened. “I don’t want to complicate this.”

  “Then why don’t we take it slower?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  I stared only at her trembling lips. “We’ll start simple. Let me make you come.”

  She tensed. “Here? Now?”

  “I’m not about to be upstaged by a pool jet.”

  Clover nervously laughed. “It’s a big decision, Adrian.”

  It wasn’t.

  It was the simplest, most natural decision a man could make in the presence of such a beautiful woman.

  I brushed my finger against her cheek. I’d done it before, but not like this. Not when I could savor the heat of her skin, the softness of her smile.

  “Tonight, you’re mine,” I whispered.

  Her eyes widened. “Yours?”

  “Mine to touch. Mine to tease. Mine to kiss.”

  “Is that all?”

  My voice lowered. “And mine to make come as many times as I desire.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m not about to jump into bed with you,” I said. “I won’t let this be awkward or weird or…”

  A disaster for our friendship.

  “How do we make it…not weird?”

  “Like this…” I stared at the hollow of her throat and imagined the heat of her pulse. “I’ll pleasure you until you’re thoroughly exhausted. I want you panting, sweating, and writhing. I want you to understand just what a night with me means. Then…if you’d still prefer a lights-out, clothes-on, never-talk-about-it-again night of purely procreative sex, I’ll agree. But…if you prefer it my way…”

  Clover swallowed, her hands gently pressing against my chest. I feared she’d push me away. but instead, her fingers explored my muscles—tensed and aching for more than the brush of her hands against my shirt.

  “What happens if I like what you do?” she whispered.

  My lips lowered to hers. “Then tonight will pale in comparison to the moment I take you to my bed.”

  Her kiss tasted of honey, cream, and juicy, sweet fruit.

  She tasted like a virgin. Something forbidden and trusting.

  My every nerve frayed in agonizing anticipation.

  Her inexperience was a monstrous reason for my cock to harden, but I couldn’t deny the unrelenting need to relieve my frustrations in her innocent heat.

  And what would happen when I did?

  My hands wove desperate patterns over the damned robe hiding her softness. Already too fast. Too hard. I clutched at her hips and dragged her curious body where I wanted her.

  Never in my life had I felt so strongly for a woman…

  And Clover wasn’t even mine yet.

  Problem was—she’d never actually be mine. Friends only, save for one blessed moment of relief within each other’s arms.

  And friends didn’t fuck the shit out of other friends.

  Friends had to be gentle.

  Tender.

  Sensitive.

  Everything I wasn’t in bed.

  And everything she deserved.

  Her lips parted for me, and I swept my tongue over hers. The fires erupted within me. The first nibble of her tender lips ignited a chaos in my soul. My thoughts burned away in a coalescence of heat and urgent need.

  What was this agonizing desperation?

  I dragged her tighter against my body. It wasn’t enough. That closeness. That heat. I wanted nothing more than to drown in her fires and ignore the undeniable realization that shackled me to reality.

  This was wrong.

  She was my friend. My companion. My dinner date, ride after games, and ice-pack deliverer when I was too sore to roll off the couch.

  Clover wasn’t meant to be in my arms, in my bed, in my heart.

  And yet, as my fingers tugged at the soft robe hiding her secrets, not a force in the world could’ve prevented me from sating my lust…

  Except my own damned devotion to her.

  My cock throbbed. My mind darkened. My hands hungrily claimed her curves.

  Tonight wasn’t about my pleasure.

  I swore it to myself. Repeated the words in my mind.

  Tonight was hers. Only hers.

  What she deserved. What she needed. Words she feared to speak, desires she’d long denied herself, and curiosities which required a steady hand and experienced lover to demonstrate.

  The robe teased over her dark shoulders. The soft fabric kissed along her arms to her elbows, looping low over her back.

  She
wore nothing beneath.

  And only our kiss protected her from my ravenous embrace.

  “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” I whispered.

  “You think so?”

  “I might be a friend, but I’m still a man.”

  The robe dropped to the floor.

  And she stood before me—naked, vulnerable, and strengthened by her own trust in me.

  I guided her onto the sofa, nestled into the soft pile of blankets. She lowered herself under my command—a tender push of my hand over her chest. Her heartbeat quickened, already impossibly quick.

  I envied her.

  My heart had stopped.

  The woman was a vision of my darkest fantasy. Every curve. Every secret. Every mouthwatering swell and valley.

  Her chest rose and fell in greedy breaths. Her breasts bounced as she attempted to rise onto her elbows. I shook my head, my hand gliding over her silken form. How often had I chastised myself for even taking a second glance at the dip in her perfect cleavage?

  Her tummy quivered. Tensed. Clover nibbled her bottom lip as I stared.

  God help me, did I stare.

  Hungered.

  Hers was a willing body, so soft and innocent. I might’ve rose over her. Might’ve given her thighs a harsh slap to open for me.

  Might’ve unleashed myself right then and there and plunged my cock into her innocence just to feel how she’d envelope me in her heat.

  Sex was something primal to me. Raw. Vulgar. It was the slapping of skin and the mess of cum and the submission of a woman as she orgasmed over my rutting cock.

  For the first time, my desires disgusted me.

  Even as my cock threatened to burst.

  I fought my damned instincts and instead counted my every blessing for the opportunity to graze my hand along her chest, over her waist, and to the miracle that waited lower.

  I settled between her toned legs, and her parted thighs revealed a perfection so tempting even hockey became a distant memory in the promise of a new obsession.

  Slickened petals and quivering folds beckoned me close…

  What did she need most?

  A taste? A touch?

  “If you want to be truly pleasured…” I knelt before her, tormenting myself with a soft kiss to her thigh. “All you need to do is ask.”

  Clover fought with herself, deliberating between covering her bared breasts and clinging to the sofa beneath her. “And you’ll deliver?”

  “As many times as you wish.”

  I pulled myself over her, capturing her lips with what I’d intended to be a reassuring comfort.

  But her soft mew of submission frayed my willpower and reduced me to little more than animalistic monster.

  A single kiss, and I was undone.

  Destroyed and invigorated. Enthralled and uncontrolled.

  I dove for her neck, nipping at the delicate flesh. Clover cooed, wiggling deeper into the blankets.

  Wasn’t every day I sunk my teeth into a perfect neck, so I savored the fluttered excitement of her heartbeat beneath my lips. Not hard enough to hurt—just an introduction, a prelude to the pleasure to come.

  For a woman who’d never had sex, Clover certainly knew what she needed.

  For too long those Honey Bs had eluded me. Now? They were mine. Clover arched for me. I plucked her nipple into my mouth and groaned, suckling hard enough to earn her whimper as my tongue coiled over her budded tip.

  The woman practically orgasmed on the spot.

  She wiggled. Panted. Drove her fingers into my hair as my beard tickled her soft skin.

  I couldn’t help myself.

  I bit.

  And she shuddered with excitement.

  Fuck me.

  She demanded so much more than whatever cheap thrill she’d coaxed from the hot tub. A vixen this responsive deserved an experienced touch, a man who understood how an eager body was meant to be pleased, teased, and thrilled.

  I captured her nipple between my teeth and tugged. It was a test. I needed to sense her limits, to see how much she could take.

  Clover always surprised me.

  She welcomed it all.

  Or maybe she was that excited, that willing to feel anything beyond her own touch and the usual bitter disappointment.

  My kisses lowered, deliberately tracing down, down, down over her navel. Her slim form twisted under the heat of my breath. And to think…that flatness would soon be mine. She offered it to me, willed me to take her, consume her, and then celebrate with her as my seed took root and her tummy began to swell.

  It was a great fantasy, but I’d never survive this night—this tormented bliss. I’d die a happy man between her thighs, feasting on a sweetness I’d never dreamed that I might possess.

  Clover edged onto her elbows, watching me with widening eyes.

  Was it…concern?

  “Just how inexperienced are you?” I stilled between her legs. “Don’t tell me no one’s done this for you before…”

  The slow shake of her head broke my heart.

  “I never asked it of anyone,” she whispered.

  I’d never liked the few men she’d dated.

  Now, I hated them.

  What sort of man had no idea the prize within their own beds? How could any refuse to indulge himself in her most delicious of secrets?

  “It’s not something you ask…” I grunted. “This is something a man does because he’s got no control over himself. Because he’ll fucking die in the next few heartbeats if he doesn’t bury himself in your slit and deliver you to Heaven with the stroke of his tongue. It’s a reaction to you, a necessity.”

  My gaze drifted low, focusing on her dripping slit, eager to lap at her cream.

  “This is how you should be treated,” I whispered. “Had I known you’ve never been taken properly, I would’ve done this myself years ago.”

  I sunk low, spreading her legs to capture her slit for myself.

  The woman was sweet. Heavenly and addicting. Soft and hot.

  Innocent enough to make a man go mad with lust even while buried within her silken inferno.

  I claimed her with a ferocity too demanding for how gently I had planned to take her. But my strength waned in the presence of a writhing goddess.

  I consumed her like a starving, feral animal, eager to drown in her intoxicating heat. I gripped her hips and hauled her closer as I ravaged the softness between her legs like a rabid beast lunging for his prey.

  “Oh…my…” Clover squirmed away from the sudden onslaught.

  My growl kept her still, but I still gripped her tight and pinned her to the couch. Her surprised gasp dissolved into a heady groan.

  Her body softened as she submitted completely to my tongue.

  And my cock nearly burst through my jeans.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  I’d promised her gentleness and attacked her like a crazed beast.

  I’d offered her a night of pleasure, then selfishly drank her honey.

  I’d convinced her to let me close, only to awaken my own desires within her perfection.

  Her scent, her softness, her heat overwhelmed me. Her slickened petals quivered against my tongue as her body tensed with amazement. She stared at me, wild-eyed and shocked.

  “What…dear God…what are you doing to me?” She shuddered as her fingers raced through my hair. “Adrian…”

  She panted my name, and I resolved to hear it groaned again and again.

  “This is how you should feel in a man’s arms.” My voice rasped—too rough for such a sweet declaration. And yet, the rumble of my words twisted her hips. “You should know what it’s like to be pleasured. To be taken. And this is what I’ll give you—a night of unconquered delights. I’ll make you mine, and you’ll understand how right it is to be possessed by me.”

  The woman moaned, and the timid cry inspired me more than any encouragement she’d ever cheered within the rink.

  I didn’t deserve someone so sof
t and warm.

  Hockey was a brutal, unforgiving sport that rewarded a man through his quiet agonies. Bruises. Broken bones. Concussions. It’d become my life—my purpose. And I never regretted it, nor the loss of gentleness and compassion.

  But then…Clover offered me everything.

  A child.

  Her body.

  This pleasure.

  She gave herself to me, and yet I stole so much more from her breathless moans.

  For a fleeting, wonderful moment, I had something fragile and vulnerable in my arms. Something soft. Something quiet.

  The world fell away as my sole obsession shifted to delivering Clover to the depths of her own desires.

  Her body quaked, and her hips bumped her slit against my lips. She struggled against the onslaught of sensations. Writhing. Aching. Clutching at the couch and blankets beneath her.

  “Better than the hot tub?” It was wrong to tease, but I loved how her cries turned shrill as I centered over her swollen nub and sucked.

  “So much better…”

  Her words broke with a wavering cry. She pushed herself onto her elbows, watching me. We locked eyes, and the intimacy of that moment—that shock of raw arousal—nearly undid us both.

  Why hadn’t I tasted this sooner?

  Why had I denied myself this pleasure?

  How could I live without her sweetness once this was done?

  She even tasted virginial. Pure. Her sweet cream drenched her thighs and my mouth with slickened honey. I dipped my tongue deeper into her, pushing through her tightness as deep as I could get.

  Hot. Wet. Tiny.

  Jesus Christ.

  My every thought burned as my cock begged for a release.

  Didn’t trust myself. Not so near this delicate part of her, and not with the primal thoughts searing my brain.

  To conquer.

  To claim.

  To completely ravage this woman and steal that first time for my own selfish delights.

  But I’d promised Clover a simple experiment for the night. Nothing more than her pleasure.

  And that was delight enough for me.

  Clover whimpered, biting her bottom lip. Her hips danced. Her body tightened. And a surge of heated sugar rewarded my twisting tongue.

  “You can come…” My words weren’t simply invitation. I commanded it. “Don’t hold back.”

  Her eyes pinched shut. “But…it’s so fast…had no idea…”

 

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