by Mara Jacobs
“You’ll have to wait and see,” she said, easing the sweater up a bit more so the entire cup showed now, but not the flesh above it.
“More,” he commanded. “All of it.”
She pulled the damn sweater off in one smooth motion. “Jesus, you’re beautiful.” He reached out and ran a finger across the bounty at the top of the black satin, dipping into her cleavage. She shivered but didn’t move away from him. No, she moved deeper into his touch. His fingertip kept the glide going to the side of her breast, then he shifted his hand, cupping the side of her, and down underneath, lifting and shaping her. His thumb flicked her nipple, the small bud hardening at his touch. He flicked a couple more times then pushed his thumb in, right onto the nipple, circling, grinding.
“Ahhh,” she sighed, her head falling back. She braced her hands on the outside edges of the narrow table, causing her to arch into him. Practically begging for his mouth.
He reached behind her, having to put his face right into her tits to do so. Which he was so okay with him. He undid her bra and yanked it down away from her. She raised one hand just long enough for him to slip the strap through. He left the other strap around her arm and the bra stayed there, still on the table. She didn’t seem to care and it wasn’t about to slow him down from getting his mouth on her.
He cupped both of her tits and pushed them together, lashing them both with his tongue as he handled them with a fair bit of force.
“Yes,” she gasped, and he squeezed them harder and sucked deeply on one of her nipples.
God, she was so responsive, so ready for this. He moved his thumb under and up through her cleavage made tighter and higher by his hands. He stroked his thumb up and down through the warm, fragrant passage.
“This is going to be my cock, baby. Right between your tits. And you’re going to like it, aren’t you.”
“Yes,” she sighed.
“Look at me,” he said sternly. Her head snapped up. Her eyes were dazed, her mouth wet from his kisses. “Watch me taste these amazing tits.”
He put his mouth on her again, but kept his eyes on hers. She took a hand off the table to run it through his hair. The she stopped and began to take it away. “Don’t stop,” he said. “Put your hands in my hair. Hold me to you. Pull on my hair when you want it harder.”
She did as he told her, her fingers digging into his scalp, holding his head to her. It spurred him on and he took a tight nipple back into his mouth and sucked. Her breasts were soft and firm as his hands molded them. Her fingers played in his hair, losing some of their bite.
So he bit her.
Not too hard, but just a tiny bite on her nipple had her hands clutching him once more.
“Yes,” she moaned. He moved to her other breast and bit again, this time tugging on it as he pulled away. Her ass rocked on the table as she gasped.
His girl liked a little pain with her pleasure.
He knew how exhilarating pain could be. He fairly flew down the ice after being painfully checked in the boards.
He wouldn’t go too far with her and would certainly never hurt her, but damn if all these revealing desires of hers didn’t have him dying to be inside her.
“Enough,” he said, abruptly pulling away, pleased when she clutched at him. But he ducked out of her hands and pushed the chair from the table, awkwardly standing up.
She just watched him. She didn’t even offer to help, so dazed with lust. Her sweet tits heaved from her breathing, wet and glistening.
He pulled his tee-shirt over his head and sent it flying. God, he loved the way she looked at his body. It made all the hours of training worth it just for the gaze of hunger she was giving him.
He grabbed one of his crutches from the chair they’d been resting on and propped himself up, standing in front of her but just out of reach.
“Unsnap your jeans.”
He noticed her hands trembled as she reached for her fly and undid the metal button. Good, ‘cause he sure as hell was shaking on the inside.
“Unzip.” She did.
“Now take them off, but don’t leave the table. I want you to squirm ‘em off.”
Her big brain seemed stumped.
“Scooch and rock. I want to see those gorgeous tits jiggle while you do.”
More heat infused her already flushed face, but she began to rock and lift and squirm her way out of her jeans while she remained seated.
And Jesus, it was a sight to behold. Her breasts swayed with the motion and jerked when she tugged. Petey put a hand on himself over his track pants and started to slowly stroke. The sight caused Alison to stop her progress.
“Keep going,” he firmly said.
She did, her movements faster now, tits bobbing from side to side.
He squeezed his cock so he wouldn’t end this too quickly.
When she had the jeans past her thighs he tipped the arm part of his crutch forward, catching the denim and pushing them down and off her. He brought the crutch back up and used the toe of it to push the jeans under the table so as not to fuck up his traction.
“Pretty as a picture,” he said as he looked at her, meaning every word. She leaned back again, posing for him. Her bra still lay on the table, one strap loosely hanging from her arm. The black satin bra matched her panties, which was all she was wearing. Her legs were spread a little—not as wide as they soon would be—with just a tease of what awaited him showing. She reached to the waistband of her panties, but he growled, “Leave ‘em on.” She halted her progress.
“Slide one hand in,” he told her. “Slide your fingers along those plump lips. But don’t dip inside. Not yet.” Her head tilted to one side and a little back, almost resting on her shoulder, as she did what he commanded. He watched the movements of her hand through the black satin, gliding, light, but not going deeper. Her wrist and the top of her hand moved in and out of the satin and he began to lightly stroke his cock.
She had the most beautiful skin; flawless and the color of a latte with too much milk. His eyes went back to her breasts, still red and heavy from his mouth.
“Put your other hand on your tits,” he said, his voice rough with arousal. She moved quickly, the bra strap falling away as she moved her hand from the edge of the table and to her breast. She had one hand on each place he wanted to feel, to taste, to lick. He didn’t need to direct her. She started pinching her nipple, tugging on it as he had. Shit, she was rougher with herself than he’d been.
“Okay,” he said as he pushed the waistband of his track pants down, letting his cock spring free. “Slip a finger in.” She must have been on the edge as much as he, because in a flash her hand disappeared into her panties.
“Wet?” he demanded.
“Yes,” she gasped.
“Show me.” She whimpered at the thought of leaving that warm heat—he didn’t blame her—but removed her hand, holding up her fingers. He leaned the crutch against the chair where the other one rested, then stepped forward, grabbed her wrist and sucked on her fingers. She inched her ass closer to the edge of the table, closer to his erection.
“You want this?” he asked, stroking himself as he continued to hold her wrist.
She nodded and he squeezed her wrist. “Yes,” she said.
He let go of her and grabbed the top of her panties with both hands. “Rock back,” he told her. When she did he slid the panties off her and down her legs, which he pushed together. Once the black satin scrap lay on the floor, he linked a hand under each of the knees, stepped closer to her, slid his hands down her shapely calves, and then twisted his hands so he could push her legs up in the air.
The movement threw her off balance and she put her arms behind her, bracing herself. He put her feet over his shoulders, which pulled her even closer to him, then slid his hands down her legs to her hips. One hand grasped a hip and the other circled under her legs to grab ahold of his hard dick and guide it into her.
The heat of her. She was like a furnace and he wasn’t even inside her yet. And
then he realized why it felt so amazing even just being next to the wet heat. He was riding bareback.
“Christ. Shit.”
“What? What is it?”
“No condom. I mean there might be one somewhere in my shaving kit, but…fuck.” The thought of picking up his crutches, hobbling back to the bathroom, rummaging…shit. And if Alison hopped off that table to go get one, he had the sinking feeling she wouldn’t come back.
But still, there was no way he—
“Are you okay? I mean, are you clean? Disease-free?” she asked.
“Yeah, I am. We have a physical at the start of every training camp, so I know I’m clean.”
“And you’ve worn a condom every time since?”
No need to tell her she was the only one he’d had sex with since reporting for training camp. “I wear a condom every time…period.”
“Then we’re okay. I’m on the pill.”
He didn’t want to think about that—why she’d need regular birth control. And then he thought about it and it made sense.
“You’re okay with just that? The pill?”
She inched herself even closer to him, half her ass nearly off the table. “Yes,” she said. “I’m okay with that. Just do it. Now.
“Speed,” she said and smiled up at him. “Speed, speed, speed.”
Fourteen
A good hockey player plays where the puck is.
A great hockey player plays where the puck is going to be.
~ Wayne Gretzky
Alison couldn’t believe it. It was as if she’d finally figured out the missing piece to the puzzle that was sex. Or at least sex for her.
Petey took his erection, guided it just inside her, then pulled it back out. She groaned. He smiled that cocky, sexy smile and drove into her.
He inched closer to her and his hand came up and slid behind her neck pulling her to him for a kiss. She leaned forward, still needing to keep her balance, which sent her legs up higher along his chest.
Which drove him deeper inside her.
She could barely kiss him through her gasp of satisfaction.
She sucked on his tongue, her kisses a bit frantic as she tried to make him move. Her position was such that she was at his mercy, not able to control the pace, the depth, anything.
Exactly how she wanted it. She clenched around him.
“Fuck,” he groaned, taking his lips from hers momentarily. But he still didn’t stroke, just continued to kiss her.
“My pace,” he said. Then he took her bottom one into his teeth and nipped and licked it. She clenched again, and he grabbed onto her hips and angled her ass up higher, which felt fantastic, but made her have to lean back on her arms even further, her balance off-kilter. He split her legs more, as he followed her back for more kisses.
Then finally—finally—he began to move inside her.
“Yes,” she sighed.
His strokes were long and slow and seemed to find every nerve inside of her. “Faster,” she whispered and kissed him again. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, to feel those broad shoulders and the strength that came from them, but she knew if she released her arms she’d have to pull off some kind of crazy ass yoga move to keep her balance long enough to snake her arms around him.
He slid deeper inside her and moved his pelvis in some kind of circle or something. Whatever it was sent a shot of electricity through her whole body.
God, she really couldn’t believe how her body was responding. She’d thought sex had always been nice and pretty good for her, but now she had to wonder if she’d been fooling herself. She’d always had to work much harder to get to even a fraction of—
“Stop thinking,” Petey growled at her. His voice—holy crap—that deep, masculine voice barking orders at her. She was embarrassed at how wet it made her.
“So wet,” he whispered in her ear, as if reading her mind. His pace quickened a tiny bit. Not enough for her, but she trusted him now. He knew what she needed, maybe even more than she did.
The hand that had been holding her hip eased in front of him around her thigh, skimming her belly and easing its way down. She tried to open her legs wider, but her heel started to slide from his shoulder. His quick reflexes had it back in place before she could even register what was happening.
“Don’t worry, I can fit in there just fine.” And to prove his point, he wedged his big hand between her thighs that were only as far apart as the width of his chest.
He found her clit easily and lightly brushed across it.
“Oh, God,” she cried out and dropped her head back. “So good.”
“I know it is,” he said, his pace picking up speed as his finger circled around her. “So fucking good with us.” He made another circle, then added his thumb and pinched her clit.
Her head pushed back even further as the waves rushed over her, every muscle in her body clenching and then releasing. The convulsion went through her just as he drove deep, and lights exploded behind her closed eyes. It seemed to go on and on. He gasped and lifted her butt, and then rub or twist again and another jolt would go through her. Just when she started to come down, he said, “Look at me.” But she couldn’t. She couldn’t even lift her head to—
“I said, ‘look at me.’” He hadn’t raised his voice, but the tone made her lift her heavy head and open her eyes.
He didn’t say any more, just took his hand from her and trailed it up her body to the middle of her chest, between her boobs. He pushed. Her arms began to tremble, barely able to hold herself up without him pressing on her. “Let go. Just let go.”
She did, and he pushed her flat on her back with her legs still up in the air against his chest. He never moved his hand, continuing to hold her down. Pinning her to the table. She closed her eyes, but he pinched a nipple and commanded, “Open your eyes. Keep ‘em open. Watch me fuck you.”
His words sent another aftershock through her. She began to build again as he started stroking deep and fast. She heard and felt his balls slapping her ass with the force. “Pinch yourself for me,” he said as he took his hand from her chest and moved it back to her thigh. She brought her hands up to her breasts and played with them. They felt so tender and achy. Pinching the nipples almost alleviated the pain, but not quite. She tugged on them as he had and looked up at him to see him nodding encouragingly at her as he stroked inside her.
His hands grabbed the back of her thighs and pushed them forward, her legs spreading, calves coming off his chest. He pushed even further, her knees bending and her thighs nearly to her boobs.
He grunted his approval of the deeper position and she showed her approval by squeezing her inner muscles and holding.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he said in a moan and seemed to snap, slamming himself into her over and over. She tried to keep up with him, to clench on his down stroke, but he was going too fast for her. So delightfully fast. And then she outpaced him and exploded again. Her arms fell to her side, thumping against the table.
Petey drove deep into her one last time, his body shuddering with his release, which seemed to go on and on until he finally slumped down onto her. She lifted her arms—no easy feat—and wrapped them around him, sliding her hands down his back, moist from exertion.
“Wow,” was all she could say, inadequate as it was.
But it was more than he could apparently manage, for all he did was grunt and kiss her neck.
They stayed that way for a while. She loved the weight of him on top of her, so big and male.
Eventually he shifted and she realized he’d been standing with the brace and no crutches, and she knew he had quite a bit of force in that stance.
“Petey, your leg,” she murmured, nudging him.
“Hurts like a mother,” he said as he shifted again.
She pushed on him. It wasn’t that she wanted him off of her—because she didn’t, not really—but he needed to move that leg, and she needed to come back to her senses.
She wasn’t going to beat he
rself up this time, like she had after Katie’s wedding. She’d needed this, needed him. Needed to find out about herself and her suspicions that she wanted to be controlled in bed.
Well, she certainly had that figured out now.
And it wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t had the day that she did. A little bit of envy after visiting Katie, tweaked by the visit to her parents’ next home. And, oh yeah, dealing with Sherry hinting around about the cabin.
It had all added up to a small wallow of self-pity that could be eased by a professional athlete pounding into you.
He pulled out of her, which sent a shiver of desire through her that he obviously noticed.
“Let’s go to bed. But you’re going to have to be on top for round two. My leg will barely get me down the hall.” He grinned. “But, damn it was worth it.”
He pulled up his pants and stepped away from the table. While he hobbled to get his crutches, she slid off the table, walked the few steps to the living room and grabbed a throw from the back of the couch, wrapping it around herself.
“Aww, now that’s a shame,” he said, watching her as he propped himself up on the crutches. “Come on, I’ve got to lie down and get this thing off.”
She started to speak but kept her mouth shut and followed him to her room. He got himself to the bed and sat on the edge, propping the crutches on the nightstand. He reached for the brace, but she was beside him and brushed his hands away.
“Let me,” she said, and bent to loosen the Velcro straps. He started to reach for her, but she got the brace off quickly and moved away, placing it on the floor where he’d be able to reach it in the morning.
He moved back on the bed, then eased his leg up. He propped himself up against the headboard, and looked at her. “You’re not coming to bed, are you?”
She shook her head. “It was…it was amazing, Petey.”
“Hell yes, it was, and can be again in just a little while. Now come to bed, Al.”
“No. And it can’t happen again.”
“That’s what you said last night.” It wasn’t smug, but more of a gentle reminder that she’d changed her mind once, why not again.
