Sweet Victory: BTU Alumni Series Book #3

by Ciz, Alley

  “Hmm,” he paused in thought. “For awhile Jake didn’t have any, but that changed after the Olympics. Now they all have the rings across their inner arms.” He lifted her right arm and stroked a finger along the spot he mentioned, the light touch tickling the sensitive skin where her biceps and triceps met.

  “Isn’t that a painful spot?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He gave a rueful grin. “The arm in general is painful. Most people don’t realize it, but there are a lot of nerves that, even when the needle isn’t directly on them, can radiate the pain elsewhere.”

  “But your whole arm is done.” Her eyes went wide as she scanned over the ink again.

  “It’s 'cause I’m a badass, babe.”

  “And so humble.”

  Gah! How did he manage to be both boyishly charming and panty-meltingly smoldering? It was completely unfair to the entire female population.

  “Then as you know, all the ladies have the mark of The Coven.” His thumb ghosted over the spot where her wrist met her hand under her thumb, the same area the girls had a miniature witch hat tattooed. It was their own version of a best friends necklace.

  A part of her wondered what it was like growing up with so much support, in both the form of the family by blood and the family they chose. The only person she ever had that she could rely on was Kyle, and for the last five years, she'd even lost a bit of that. Her friend really had earned a permanent spot on Santa’s Nice List by dropping everything and helping her get away from her father.

  “You’re not scared of needles, are you?” His question caught her off guard.

  “No why?”

  “Because needles are how they do tattoos. So if you were afraid it would make things way more complicated when you go to get your own hat.”

  Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of being a permanent member of The Coven. She wanted it more than she wanted anything else in her life—current half-naked man excluded—unfortunately, it wasn’t in the cards for her. As made evident earlier, her past had come a-knocking. It would only be a matter of time before it came barreling back in like a battering ram.

  “Hey.” He pushed up onto an elbow, his thirty-seven abdominal muscles rippling with the action, as he stretched a hand out to push her hair behind her ear. “Where’d you just go?”

  She let out a breath, shoving those thoughts away to deal with another time.

  “Nowhere. Long day, I guess.”

  “Well, then. Lay down and let’s watch some Friends.”

  That wasn’t the activity she had in mind. Unsure how long she’d be able to keep him, she wasn’t going to waste another second not making the most of their time together.

  “No. That’s not what I want to do.”

  “Oh-kay.” He drew out the word, confused. “You picked Friends, but we can watch something else if you want.” He spoke like a man used to dealing with impulsive women in his life. And she guessed he did.

  She cast a glance at the sitcom playing on the flat screen. The episode was one of her favorites, where the girls lost their apartment to the guys on a bet, but she was sure the cast of six wouldn’t hold a candle to Vince on top of her—naked.

  “What I meant was…I don’t want to watch TV. There’s something else I’d much rather do in this bed right now.”

  The silver of his eyes darkened to a deep charcoal at her words. Then without giving him a chance to argue, she gripped the hem of the t-shirt she wore, pulled it from her body and dropped it off the side of the bed.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Vince’s eyes instantly went to Holly’s boobs. Seriously, could you blame him?

  One, they were boobs.

  Two, the movement from removing his shirt caused them to jiggle.

  And three, they were boobs.

  Okay sure he was repeating himself on the last one, but he was a guy and well—boobs.

  He wanted to reach for her.

  Hell, he needed to reach for her.

  To pull her against him.

  To roll her beneath him.

  To taste every inch of her mouth-watering body.

  To discover if every part of her tasted as good as the sample he had weeks ago in her bedroom.

  The same bedroom where her own fucking family left a threat. Because that’s precisely what it was. A threat.

  And threats toward the woman he was falling in love with, well…that was unacceptable.

  This was what had him holding back from acting on his impulses. She'd faced one hell of a shock, and he didn’t want to take advantage of her in a vulnerable state.

  But…fuck if it wasn’t hard, and he wasn’t talking about the steel rod in his boxer briefs. Haha. See what he did there? So punny.

  For real though, she was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Her skin was creamy white, a contrast to his own darker olive complexion, with freckles and the larger and darker beauty marks decorating the canvas of her body, tempting him into playing connect the dots with his tongue.

  Those breasts he couldn’t take his eyes off of were enough to fill his bear paw-sized hands and were topped by pale, petal pink nipples. Nipples currently standing at attention, begging for him to suck.

  She still wore her plum-colored panties, the lace cover teasing him with only the barest glimpses of her sweet center. One he quickly discovered was waxed bare, and he wanted the chance to spend hours dining on all things Holly.

  His Holly.

  His girlfriend.

  His Cupcake.

  She claimed he was Photoshopped, but she was the one without flaws. His hands had the scars every fighter bore from hours upon hours of hitting things. There were other professional scars decorating his body, and his left ear had the mildest case of cauliflower ear from his years wrestling, the cartilage at the top folded over ever so slightly.

  But Holly—she could have stepped off of the pages of any centerfold. The way her hips flared out from her narrow waist made him want to flip her over, grab on and bury himself balls deep from behind. Her ass was perfection. He could spend all day watching it as she wiggled it to and fro dancing around and baking. And if he didn’t have to train, that’s exactly how he would spend his days.

  By the time his eyes made it back to her face, she was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. That would not do.

  “You…are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on.” He pushed up, looping an arm around her waist, pulled so her nipples kissed his as he pressed their bodies together. “I could look at you all day and never get bored.”

  “You can’t mean that.” She looked down.

  “The fuck I can’t,” he growled. No one. Not. One. Single. Person. Would put her down. Not even herself. “You are perfect for me, so that makes you perfect. Don’t ever doubt that.”

  HOLLY BLINKED, TAKEN aback by the ferociousness of Vince’s words. The gruff way he spoke them lent a seriousness, but it was the molten look in his gray eyes that broke the last of the walls she kept between them.

  She was done.

  The last thing she needed was another man in her life to tell her what to do, yet here she was, falling in love with Mr. Alpha himself.

  She'd tried.

  She'd tried so damn hard to keep him away and keep her heart safe.

  That was an epic fail.

  Because the longer she looked into those irises that swirled like a hurricane, she was pretty sure she was tipping over the edge from falling into fallen.

  She was so screwed.

  Hopefully more than just a figure of speech.

  They leaned in, mouths meeting in a heated kiss, his tongue wasting no time tangling with hers. His hand pressed her side, and she straddled his lap, lining up her cha-chaing clit to ride along the erection poking out of the top band of his boxer briefs.

  She ground down, the lace of her panties a useless barrier between them, her lips parted to hug his cock. Pleasure sparked through every cell of her body as she dry humped him like it was an Olympic spo
rt.

  Her eyes fluttered shut, and she tangled her hands in his messy mop of hair, as he raked his teeth down the side of her neck, across her collarbone, before finally tracking lower to suck a nipple into his wet mouth.

  His hands coasted down her body, coming to a stop at her breasts, cupping each one in his massive hands, fingering the nipple not currently in his mouth with his thumb.

  “Vince.” His name a broken plea as her head fell forward to rest against his. He moved from one nipple to the other.

  “You taste so fucking good, Cupcake.” His words sent another arrow of pleasure through her body as they vibrated around her nipple.

  Back and forth, she rolled her hips.

  The mushroom cap-shaped head of his dick was almost purple as it leaked pre-cum onto the bottom packs of his abs. The confirmation of his pleasure was all it took to push her over the cliff into her first orgasm.

  “That’s it, baby. Let go.” He released her nipple with an audible pop, swallowing her moans as he crushed their mouths back together.

  While she rode the wave of orgasm, he flipped their positions as easily as he would roll over in bed, and not at all like he was supporting her full weight. His strength was a major turn-on. Then again, everything about him seemed to turn her on.

  “That was one,” he said, holding himself above her with his elbow. His fingers curled around her head, the tender way he touched her at odds with the carnal need pulsing between them. “Now let me show you what I can do when there’s not a pair of leggings between us.”

  The sheets rustled as he moved down her body, tracing the map laid out on her torso to the lacy edge of her panties. Panties he would find completely drenched.

  “These are pretty,” he said before the sound of fabric tearing filled the room as he ripped them from her.

  “Vince,” she cried.

  “Sorry, baby, but I need your cunt right fucking now, and they were in my way.”

  She hated the “C” word but forgot all about it when he traced the seam of her lips with his fingers before plunging two inside.

  Her back bowed off the bed, and another moan rang out.

  “That’s it, baby. God, you’re fucking tight.”

  She clutched the sheets as he worked her over hard and fast with his fingers.

  In.

  Out.

  His thumb moved to bump her clit with every thrust into her.

  In.

  Out.

  Swirl over her clit.

  In.

  Out.

  He hit her clit once more, and she was on orgasm number two, more intense than the first.

  She tried to muffle the sound of her cries with her hand, but Vince was quick to pull her hand away. “Hell no, Cupcake. I want all your pleasure. No one else is here to hear you. Don’t deprive me of your sweet sounds.”

  Without warning, he adjusted himself further down the bed and buried his face between her legs.

  The fingers that had stilled while remaining buried inside her resumed their pumping as he sucked her clit into his mouth, dipping into her pussy like it was the most delicious pie.

  “Fuck, you taste even better than I remember.”

  And holy shit, his tongue was as wicked eating her out as it was at tossing out dirty talk.

  She grabbed his hair, taking fistfuls of it until she was screaming out in orgasm number three.

  “Holy shit.” She breathed out as he kissed his way back up her body.

  “I’m not done with you yet, Cupcake.”

  Was this guy for real? She didn’t think it was possible for her body to handle any more pleasure. She was boneless.

  “I-I don’t think I can come again, Muffin.”

  “Oh, yes, you can.” His lascivious smile promised more than his words. “I’m not from the hockey camp. I don’t stop at the hat trick.”

  He slid until he was off the bed, hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxer briefs, dropped them, and wrapped his hands around her ankles to pull her toward him.

  “Now, it’s time for me to show you why there’s a Stud before my Muffin.”

  Holy hell. If the three-peat of orgasms didn’t already prove it, there was a good chance she wasn’t going to survive the night.

  But what a way to go.

  THE TASTE VINCE had gotten of the nectar between Holly’s legs weeks ago was nothing compared to drinking directly from the source. She was so fucking sweet she should probably be banned from his meal plan.

  Like he’d ever let that happen. He planned on feasting on her as often as she let him—preferably daily.

  He had her with his fingers, his mouth, now time to fuck her the way he’d been fantasizing about since that first day at Espresso Patronum.

  He had her off the bed, in his arms, legs wrapped around him, and pressed against his bedroom wall in seconds. He couldn’t remember anything feeling as good as his dick sliding through her wetness as she ground against him, and he wasn’t even inside her yet.

  As his eyes closed in an effort to not come like he was fifteen again, he was struck by why it felt so good. She wasn’t the only one bare. He had forgotten to grab a condom. Shit.

  “Shit.” He thunked his head onto the wall beside her.

  “What’s wrong?” Concern laced her tone. “Am I too heavy? Shit, I don’t want to hurt you while you’re in training. Put me down.” She smacked him on the shoulder repeatedly.

  She was hilarious.

  “Yeah, it’s not that, Cupcake. You’re barely my warmup weight.” He couldn’t help but chuckle. He had a naked woman in his arms, wrapped around him, pressed against a wall, dick zeroing in on the landing zone, and he was laughing. Only his Cupcake could do that to him.

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “I forgot to grab a condom.”

  Her eyes widened as if only realizing it herself. Her lower lip turned white as her teeth bit into it. He used his thumb to free the abused flesh from her worrying.

  “Hold on.” He repositioned his arms around her to carry her with him.

  “No, wait.” She placed a hand on his chest to stop him. He raised a questioning brow. “I…” She hesitated. “I have an IUD, and”—he watched as her throat moved with her swallow—“and I’m clean. I’ve been tested.”

  Shock almost had him dropping her. That was not what he was expecting. At all.

  He’d never been inside a woman without a rubber before. One, not ever really dating anyone seriously, he would never take the risk. Two, piggybacking off of reason one, it was hard to trust that a girl wasn’t trying to trap him into a free ride. He may not be a champion yet, but Jordan and Skye had certainly made sure he was the highest-grossing non-title-holder in the UFC. And third, he'd never wanted to, but, fuck, did he want to with Holly.

  “Are you sure?” He had to ask.

  “Yes.”

  “I mean, I’m clean too. I’ve never not used one, and fighters have to get tested all the time with how bloody the sport can be.”

  “Vin.” Her hands came up to cup his face between them, her thumbs tracing figure eights along his cheekbones.

  And yes, he had cheekbones, and they were fucking fantastic, thank you very much.

  “Do you honestly think I'd even be considering this if you weren’t? Not once since I’ve met you have you ever done anything to put me at risk. Why would I think this would be any different?”

  She killed him. Her unadulterated trust almost brought him to his knees.

  He shifted so her shoulders were anchored to the wall while her weight rested on his lower body. He buried both hands in the waves of her hair, fingers tangling in the strands, and claimed her mouth the way she claimed his heart.

  With a swivel of his hips, his now weeping dick slid through her slickness and pressed its way home inside her. She was tight. So tight if he hadn’t stretched her out with his fingers he’d be worried he was hurting her.

  He pulled back slightly before pressing in a few more inches.

&nb
sp; Again he pulled away until only the tip was inside, plunging back in, not stopping until he was seated inside her to the hilt, using gravity to aid his progress.

  The breath whooshed from his lungs like he’d just taken a hit in the ring.

  Her pussy gripped him like a vise, barely letting him pull out enough for his thrusts. He felt each ridge and vein of his cock drag along her inner walls.

  Her head fell back as he pushed back inside, his mouth automatically finding the soft spot where her neck met her shoulder, sucking and biting her skin as he pumped inside her.

  In.

  Out.

  A suck and a bite.

  In.

  Out.

  Her moan.

  His groan.

  In.

  Out.

  Her pulse pounded like a drum as he continued to lave attention against the pulse point. He was sure her pale skin would easily bruise, and his inner gorilla beat his chest like he was Tarzan thinking of her walking around with his mark on her.

  In.

  Out.

  “Fuck, Cupcake. I’m gonna come,” he growled into her neck.

  “Vince.” His name was a keening cry, and he felt the telltale flutters of her pussy as she came around him, soaking his balls as they emptied themselves inside her.

  Wall sex. A good idea? Yes.

  Wall sex. A bad idea? Also yes.

  Why, you ask?

  Well, he came so hard his knees were weak—which he'd never thought was really a thing—and he also felt like he was about to blackout from acute pleasure.

  Sex. Had. Never. Felt. Like. That. Before.

  Only with Holly.

  His Cupcake.

  Fuck if he wasn’t going to marry the girl someday.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Vince woke up before his alarm like every day during training camp. It was both a blessing and a curse.

  With his arms wrapped tightly around Holly, he took a moment to inhale the sugary scent he’d come to crave. He forced his mind to stay in the moment and enjoy the feel of the warm, naked woman in his arms rather than think about what happened or what he learned last night.