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5 Rounds: An Enemies to Lovers Sports Romance (The Fight Game Book 1)

Page 33

by Nikki Castle


  For a moment, all I want to do is stare at her. I want to absorb every single detail of this night. Tonight is the night she became mine, and I want to make it one we’ll both remember.

  I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs stroking her cheeks lovingly as I try to memorize every detail of her face. Her beautiful, wide green eyes. The pink tinge to her skin from the heat of the moment. The bee stung lips from hungry kisses. I commit all of it to memory and I smile at how goddamn beautiful she is.

  "You're so perfect," I murmur, pulling her lips to mine. My kiss is gentle. Adoring. I want her to know exactly how infatuated I am with her. She grips my dress shirt with both hands, clinging to me as if my kiss makes her physically weak in the knees.

  When I slide my tongue in her mouth to deepen the kiss, she lets out a small whimper. That sound undoes the last of my restraint.

  With a growl, I slide my hands down her side to grip her waist and pull her flush against me. Eventually I tear my mouth away from hers and start to kiss and nibble along her jaw, over her ear, down her neck. When I get to her exposed collarbone and the sultry neckline of the dress, a pained sound rumbles through my chest.

  "This fucking dress," I growl into her skin as I continue to kiss across her shoulder. "I couldn't take my eyes off you tonight. All I could think about is how sexy you are in it. And that I don’t understand how it’s possible, but that it’s somehow going to look much better on the floor." I feel the shiver that runs through her under my lips. I smile at the knowledge that I can affect her so easily.

  I nudge her hips gently. "Turn around for me, baby," I whisper against her skin. She does as I ask, letting go of her death grip on my shirt and spinning slowly to face the windows. Now it's my turn to shiver when I see the backless design of her dress and the amount of skin that's visible to me right now. "Fuck," I mutter under my breath. I trace the length of her spine with a shaking finger as I absorb every detail of the sight before me.

  Once I've looked my fill, I lean forward to gently press a chaste kiss to the back of her neck. "You're so fucking beautiful," I murmur against her skin.

  I stare at Remy for what is definitely not a long enough amount of time. I feel like I’m unwrapping my Christmas present and I want to draw this out as much as I can. I run my finger along the curve of her neck and over her shoulders, and I revel in the feel of goosebumps appearing on her skin. I slowly slide the straps over her shoulders.

  The dress pools at her feet. From over her shoulder, I see her nipples pebble once they're exposed to the cool air. I can't contain the groan that rumbles through my chest when I realize she's completely naked.

  "No underwear? You dirty, dirty girl," I growl in her ear before nipping her earlobe with barely contained restraint. She lets out a whimper and arches her back to grind her ass along my hard length.

  I grab her hips and pull her even tighter against me. Trailing wet kisses along her neck and shoulder, I let my hands start to wander along her ribs, teasing a light graze along the side of her breasts. I hear her breath catch at the touch.

  I can sense the moment she runs out of patience for my teasing and light touches. Which is fine by me, because at the sight of her naked it feels like I'll die if I don't get inside of her within the time span of my next heartbeat. I'll save the drawn-out sex for round two.

  She spins in my arms and kisses me, hard. Her hands start to hurriedly undo the buttons on my shirt. I let her work on my clothes while I cup her face and kiss her tenderly, unable to get enough of her taste or even wrap my head around the fact that she's here with me.

  When she finally gets all the buttons, she yanks my shirt off my shoulders and down my arms, tossing it on the floor next to her dress. It doesn't take her long to undo my belt and pants, and then those are on the floor, too. We tumble back onto the couch in a mess of limbs and rapidly beating hearts.

  I settle between her legs. I slow our kiss, pulling away just enough to kiss first her top lip and then her bottom, before lifting my head so I can look down at the vision before me.

  The moonlight from the windows is spilling across her face, illuminating her wide eyes and swollen lips. She looks at me with a love so raw, so complete… that for a moment, I can't get enough air to my lungs. I cup her face with one hand and rub my thumb across her cheek, over her lips. I stare at her in wonder.

  She lifts her hand to run it through my hair. When she fists her fingers at the nape of my neck and pulls my face to hers, I kiss her with every ounce of emotion inside of me. I kiss her until we're breathless and panting.

  Eventually I leave her lips to start trailing kisses over her body—down her neck, over her collarbone, across her breasts. I suck a nipple into my mouth until Remy's arching off the couch with a cry, then I switch to the other side and repeat the same motion. I don't think I'll ever get over how responsive she is to my touch.

  When I continue my trail of kisses beyond her breasts, I barely get to circle her navel with my tongue before Remy reaches down to cup my chin. "No," she gasps. "I need you inside me. Now." She tugs my face to further emphasize the desperation of her request.

  I immediately slide back up her body and return to kissing her delicious mouth, bracing myself on my forearm. I continue to nibble on her lip, stroke her tongue with mine, even as I reach down to fist my cock in my hand. I twist along my length a few times before grinding against her clit. The motion elicits a tortured whimper from Remy's mouth, and I swallow the sound greedily.

  "Tristan," she gasps. In her agony, she digs her fingernails into my shoulders. "Please, I need you. I need you inside me right now."

  I shudder at her words, and I know in my bones that she feels the same desperate need to be close to me as I do. As I have since the night she first stayed in my bed.

  I slide into her with one deep thrust, making us both groan at the feeling of my cock filling her so fully. I grip her hip with one hand and drop my head into the crook of her neck, my eyes squeezing shut as I try to both absorb the perfection of this feeling and force myself to make this last. Remy's hands slide from my shoulders to once again tangle in my hair. After what feels like the longest breath, I start to move.

  I had been so wrapped up in my heartbreak, I almost forgot what it felt like to be so consumed by Remy like this—her scent in my nose, her damp skin against mine, her moans in my ear. The way she grips me like it would physically pain her to let me go. The way she clenches around my cock, as if I’m the only one who can make her feel like this.

  I turn my head to press my lips against Remy's jaw, her cheek, her lips. I sink into the kiss like I wouldn't allow myself to do the last time we were in this apartment.

  "Remy…" I murmur against her lips, my thrusts never slowing.

  I feel her smile against me. Her hands run over my shoulders to cup my face, and she kisses me gently. "I know," she whispers. Just like last time.

  Except now, we can say what we didn't know or couldn't verbalize last time.

  "I love you," I say. I tell her with my words, my kisses, my body. I tell her everything I should've told her the night we spent here.

  A single sob breaks from her throat. Her legs tighten around my waist and she wraps her arms around my neck, running her fingers through my hair. She grips me tightly as she tells me, "I love you. So much."

  My heart explodes with happiness at her words. This is how it should've been a few weeks ago. We should've known that this thing between us was more powerful than just sex—we should've recognized that something bigger than us was pulling us together, fitting us perfectly together.

  I've never thought about whether I believe in soulmates, but I just know that she’s it for me. If these last few weeks taught me anything, it's that life without her is unbearably empty.

  I tangle my fingers in her hair and tighten my grip on her hip. I coax her mouth open with my tongue and stroke against hers, at the same time that I start to thrust harder, deeper. Remy's answering gasp makes me growl and hitch her hips up higher.<
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  "I want you to come with me," I murmur against her lips. "I want to feel you come on my cock. Can you do that for me?"

  Her fingers tighten in my hair and she nods eagerly. "I'm close."

  I can tell she's about to explode when she starts grasping at my shoulders, my arms, as if she's trying to anchor herself before she flies away.

  Sure enough, she gasps, "Tristan, oh my god." The sound of my name on her lips almost undoes me, and only from sheer will do I hold off my orgasm for a few seconds longer.

  Instead, I increase my pace, angling my hips in a way that I know I'm hitting her clit on every motion. Remy's nails dig into my skin as she continues to squirm beneath me, my name still falling from her lips like a desperate prayer. I kiss her one more time, pouring every ounce of raw emotion inside of me into her body.

  "Come for me," I whisper against her lips.

  I feel her orgasm tear through her the second the words leave my mouth. She gasps, her body tensing, right before her pussy starts spasming around my length. The feeling immediately brings on my own release. I groan as I empty myself inside her.

  The sensation of finding my pleasure at the same time as Remy is unlike anything I've ever felt before. The feeling of wanting to be as close to her as possible is one thing, but experiencing the epitome of pleasure—brought on by our chemistry and love for each other—is the most incredible thing I've ever felt. I tighten my grip on Remy as we ride out our orgasms, wishing this would never end and knowing I'll be addicted to this feeling for the rest of my life.

  When the feelings of ecstasy finally fade, we're both breathing hard and clutching each other even harder. I bury my face in the crook of her neck and tighten my grip on her. I stay inside her, not wanting to break our connection just yet.

  Eventually I pull my head back to look down at her. I study the sated bliss on her face as I run my fingers through her hair. "I should've known this was something the first time we had sex," I remark thoughtfully. "I never knew it could feel like this."

  She smiles, her fingers tracing the shell of my ear and running lightly down the side of my neck. "I didn't either. I didn't think chemistry like this existed." She pauses as something occurs to her and a grin splits her face. "Although, I have to admit, I'm glad you're this good at fucking because we definitely wouldn't have gotten together if you weren't. I would've ditched you after the first time. And if I counted correctly, I think it took us 5 rounds of sex to fall in love."

  I chuckle and push my hips forward, my still-hard dick hitting deep enough that it makes Remy gasp and the smile fall from her face. "Remember when I said you need someone to tell you when you're being stupid? Well, you're being stupid."

  I watch in fascination as arousal lights a blush on Remy's cheeks. And I know in that moment that it's going to be a long, exhausting night for both of us. It's possible I won't be able to peel myself away from her even days from now.

  After a few heartbeats, she settles and begins distractedly playing with my ears again. "I think I started falling in love with you the night we sat on the couch," she says thoughtfully. "You were nothing like I thought you were." Her eyes snap to mine as she hurriedly tacks on, "Not that I thought you were a dumb brute—I didn’t. I never thought that. I feel like you thought I was a judgmental bitch before I even moved into the house. But you were so quiet and fight-focused that I didn't know anything about you except that you were arrogant and you had a different woman in your bed every weekend. But I never thought you were stupid."

  I wince at her words. I always knew in the back of my mind that my womanizing days would catch up with me, but I never thought I would actually care. But right now, I feel the strange need to explain myself.

  I pull out of her and settle on my side against the couch cushions, holding her tight against my body so we're still facing each other. I run a finger down her side and over her hip when she throws her leg over me. "Remy… I'm not proud of the fact that I've been with so many women," I begin. I can't quite look her in the eyes while I say it, so I focus on my finger running along her skin. "Partly because it seems ridiculous to think about it now, but also because it took you from me. I hate that I told Jax what I did, and I hate that you believed it so easily. I just never liked anyone enough to keep them around, so women just became stress relievers. I know I said it before but I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you were just a booty call."

  A warm smile lights up her face and she cups one side of my face. It feels natural to turn and kiss her palm. "You don't need to explain anything to me. It was hard to know how you felt about me—and whether or not it was just sex between us—but I think that was just because we were both guilty of not being upfront about it. The Jax thing was just a misunderstanding. I don't care about any of that."

  I feel my heart explode with admiration and happiness at her admission. My lips stretch into the most content smile I’ve felt in weeks. I lean forward to kiss her, weaving my hand into her hair and holding her to me as I press my mouth against hers, taking my time memorizing the shape of her lips. I never thought I would enjoy kissing someone as much as I do with her.

  Eventually I pull back. I continue stroking her hair, not wanting to let go of our contact. "You're different than I thought you were, too, you know. Not that I ever thought you were a—what did you call it? A judgmental bitch? Maybe a little bit of a know-it-all, but that's not a bad thing." I grin as she frowns and lightly slaps my shoulder. "You weren't that far off with your assumptions about me, though. I am arrogant and selfish. I have to be for fighting. All the other stuff that people assume about me because I'm a fighter… I never fault anyone for it because I never take the time to prove them otherwise. So, I don't blame you for thinking the worst of me."

  Then a huge grin splits my face. I realize I have the perfect opportunity now to tell Remy the secret that I've always wanted to share with her—the one that I've always wondered if it would shake her opinion of me.

  She narrows her eyes suspiciously at my suddenly gleeful expression. "What?" she asks hesitantly.

  "There is one assumption that you were wrong about, though. Wanna know what it is?"

  She pulls back to get a better look at my face, and I watch her eyes dart over my face as she tries to find some hint about what I'm going to tell her. "What?" she asks suspiciously.

  My grin widens. "I'm not sexist. Not even close. I admire women more than a lot of men I know, so I would never look down on them or make assumptions about what they can and can't do."

  Her suspicion changes to confusion. "But what about—"

  "The first time we met?" I finish, knowing exactly what she's thinking about. "Yeah, I wasn't being sexist. A new ballet studio had just opened up next door, so we had been getting women at the gym all day long that were looking for the school. I think they had the wrong address listed on their website. By the time you came in that night, I had directed about thirty women to the studio. You looked exactly like the other girls had looked: nice clothes, wide eyes, and a ballerina bun in your hair. So yes, I assumed, but it wasn't from being sexist like you always thought."

  Her eyes widen as I talk. By the time I'm done, her jaw has dropped, and her mouth keeps opening and closing. She clearly doesn't know how to respond. After a few seconds—during which I grin gleefully at her speechlessness—her mouth snaps closed, and she looks at me with an incredulous expression. It's almost like I'm watching her brain rework the very foundation of her opinion of me.

  "Why didn't you tell me that?" she finally asks.

  I finally let myself chuckle at the situation—at the memory of Remy yelling at me after I directed her to the ballet studio. "Because I liked how feisty you were. I only ever met women who threw themselves at me, so hearing you tell me how you really felt and not pulling any punches was a breath of fresh air.”

  She glares and slaps my shoulder again. "You’re so cocky," she mumbles. My grin widens.

  "Don't get me wrong, you being feisty also became incredib
ly annoying when you loved to point out my playboy ways and shit on me every chance you got. But it was attractive at first. And you'll never convince me that I was wrong about it being your defense mechanism because you were so attracted to me.

  She gapes at my blatant arrogance, and I can't help the raucous laugh that bursts out of me at the sight. The sound startles her out of her shock because she turns a full-force glare on me and shoves my chest with both hands. "You're such an ass," she growls.

  I laugh again as I roll myself on top of her to pin her to the couch. She tries to wiggle out from under me, but I keep her caged in with my hips and arms. Instead of letting her escape, I lean forward to press my lips against hers. At first, she's stiff with anger, but I continue to kiss her as I wait patiently for her to relax. After a few seconds, I feel her sag into the couch. She grips my arms as her mouth starts to move against mine.

  "I wanted you, too," I murmur against her lips. I nip her bottom lip before pulling away to look down at her. "You were one of the hottest things I had ever seen. I just didn't want to admit it because I knew you didn't want me, and because you were Jax's little sister. You were off limits. But I always wondered if you were a freaky little thing under those professional clothes." She rolls her eyes at my statement but doesn't correct me. My blood suddenly heats at the knowledge that I get to see just how freaky she can get now that she's mine.

  Oblivious to the filthy thoughts now running through my head, she says, "We still have to figure out the best way to tell Jax. I have no idea if he's going to be upset."

  I lean down to nuzzle her neck and press a kiss to her shoulder. "I'll tell him. If he's angry then it'll be at me, not you. But I'm pretty sure he already knows because that motherfucker is a psychic or something. He can read me like a book."

 

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