Penalty Play

by Lynda Aicher

This side of him was all for her, which made it even more special. True.

  She swirled her tongue over the sensitive tip then lifted up to claim his mouth. He met her immediately, opened to share his heat, his taste. He’d never held back in bed. Never demanded or took without giving.

  The rest of their clothing came off between panting kisses and urgent hands, but they weren’t rushed. Nothing about the licks on her neck or brush of his hand down her back was hurried. She rolled on top of him and relished his strength beneath her, savored the hint of salt on her tongue when she trailed her lips over his smooth jaw, gave extra care when pressing a kiss to the bruise on his cheek. It had to hurt, even now.

  His eyes fluttered closed beneath her, hands stilling on her hips. His pupils were large and consuming when he opened his eyes. No fear in them now. Only certainty.

  “Are you sure?” she asked, scared yet needing to be certain.

  His brows dipped. “Of what?”

  Her little laugh was only air. Of course she was the one worrying about other things in the middle of making… She stumbled on the word, breath holding before she let it go. Love.

  “Us. This. Me.” Needy. She couldn’t remember ever sounding so needy. Not even when she’d been exhausted and drained at the end of radiation therapy, praying with everything she had that the bone marrow transplant her brother was enduring would cure her.

  His expression softened, brows evening out as he brushed her hair away from her face. “Yes. No.” Her pulse spiked at his hesitation. “What if I let you down? If I can’t be what you need?”

  “You don’t need to be anything more than you are.” Didn’t he see that? “Otherwise I wouldn’t be here right now.” She never would’ve opened up to him. Told him about her past. Let him into her life.

  He tugged her head down, kissed her softly with easy touches and exploring licks until she forgot about everything else. Forgot about dying and being scared and sick with worry.

  She wanted him in her. Around her. Everywhere she could touch. Breathe.

  Yet she still didn’t rush, didn’t angle her hips to allow him to slide home. It’d be so easy and perfect and not what she wanted tonight.

  She kissed up his neck, nuzzled under his ear to catch his scent. His hands were on her hips, kneading her bottom without forcing her to increase her lazy torment.

  She nipped his earlobe, traced her tongue around the shell. “I want you on top,” she whispered. His abrupt groan matched a quick jerk of his hips. She bit his lobe harder until he stilled, grunted and returned to her slow, teasing roll. Satisfied, she went on. “I want you over me. Taking me until I scream your name and gasp for mercy and come so hard I see stars.”

  “Hell yes.” He gripped her thighs and spread them wider, opening her more to his continued rock. He rolled his hips, her wetness coating them both to ease his path.

  She sucked in a breath, savored the slick slide of his head around her opening. She trembled with the need to be filled, her channel clenching and begging. “Only then can you come,” she added to see what he’d do and say.

  His fingers dug into her thighs, his teeth closing on the tender juncture of her neck and shoulder. Oh my God. Hard but not hurting. Passion bolted from both points to enflame her chest and clamp around her stomach before pulsing in her sex.

  Everything with him was so much better than she’d dreamed it could be. But then, she’d never let herself dream this far. It’d always been too dangerous. It still was, but it didn’t matter anymore.

  She was on her back, Henrik looming over her before she could blink. His eyes were emerald chips gleaming in the faint light from the other room, large and predatory. So damn hot.

  Her breaths rushed out in deep pulls, and still her head spun, air lacking. She didn’t care though. She yanked his head down, thrust her tongue into his mouth and took his air instead. This was life, primal and giving.

  She clamped her legs around his hips and sought more. He kissed down her neck, dipped to take her nipples into his mouth, one then the other, sucking and biting until she cried out, desire racing south to fuel the emptiness that’d grown into an indefinable ache.

  She clawed at his back, urged him on while holding him back. It was a vicious struggle of immediate gratification over building ecstasy. Dramatic and elusive and damn, she couldn’t think.

  Didn’t want to think anymore.

  Only feel.

  “Now. Please,” she ordered, or was it begged? It didn’t matter. Her head rolled on the pillow, back arching when he lifted his head from her breast, the wet tip tingling and puckering more when the cooler air swept in to chill it.

  Heat burned in Henrik’s eyes and his hair fell across his brow in a rakish dash enhanced by his bruised cheek. Wild and gorgeous.

  “Love me, Henrik.” Was there more behind the words—her choice of them?

  He didn’t question or contradict her though like he had when she’d told him to fuck her. He only nodded then lunged for the bedside drawer. It was on her lips to say she was on the pill, but she bit it off at the last second.

  The idea of feeling him bare inside her, hot and open, was so tempting. It was another barrier she wanted gone but couldn’t have. That was too reckless and dangerous.

  And a little too close to Aiden’s baby accusation.

  He sat back to roll the protection on, his erection dark and thick in his hands. Saliva formed at the memory of it filling her mouth, his taste covering her tongue. Sitting over her like that, his strength displayed in his spread thighs and muscled chest, he appeared bigger than ever.

  A tremble shook her limbs, a deep quake that bloomed from her chest to spread outward. An urge to mark his clean skin rose up to hook in her mind.

  “No tattoos. Is there a reason?”

  His lip curled in a weak half smile. “I hate needles.”

  Her chuckle bubbled through the quiet. How incongruous and exactly like so many other parts of him. He could take a beating on the ice but not a little needle. “What about stitches?” She ran her fingers over the long scar under his ribs. The result of a check to the boards and an errant stick.

  “They numb it, and I close my eyes.”

  Logical. He’d endure when he had to, but not by choice. Smart too.

  She shifted her hips up, bit her lip when his gaze dropped to focus on her spread legs. He ran a single finger through her wetness in one slow swipe. Heat rushed up her abdomen and down her thighs. Her nipples puckered, prickles covering her chest in a wave of added sensation.

  His lids were half lowered when he met her gaze, sucked his finger into his mouth. Oh, God. They moaned in unison, the harmony holding in her ears.

  He pulled the digit out in a seductive suck and release before making another pass through her heat. He circled her channel, dipped in. She clamped around it, her muscles contracting to hold tight, but he slipped it out against her mumbled protest. His eyes sparked, lips quirking.

  Her mouth was parted to allow air to her lungs, yet it didn’t feel like enough. He was mesmerizing as he leaned forward to hold his wet finger over her lips. The musky scent of her arousal hit her nose on her first inhalation. A part of her was shocked, another part so turned on she could barely catch her breath.

  Her fingers dug into the bedding, yet she didn’t move to stop him when he lowered his finger to her lips.

  “You taste incredible,” he murmured. “In both places.” He traced his finger over her upper then lower lip, eyes tracking the motion. “I want to taste them together. Catch every flavor of you at once.”

  Oh… Her brain shorted out when she caught the heated intensity in his eyes, the pungent scent of her juices. Erotic and more right than anything she’d ever experienced.

  “Then do it,” she ordered, pulse raging. Anticipation scorched her nerve endings until every shift of air sang over her skin.

  Her chest hitched with each panting breath as the very tip of his tongue snaked out to edge a line along her bottom lip. Her mouth par
ted more, the urge to surge up and steal a kiss was countered by the desire to see what he did next.

  He’d thoroughly claimed her that time on the couch, and she had no doubt he could—would—do it again.

  If she could wait.

  She panted into his mouth, catching the heat of his breath and a repeated influx of her arousal. But she also found a bit of his scent, of the deeper musk that rose from his excitement. It blended and melded together like their mutual moans of pleasure.

  Her breath hitched when he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, teeth capturing it before he let it slip free. He licked his lips, eyelids dropping on an exhale. “Delicious.”

  Automatically, her tongue snaked out to verify his claim. Was it that good? The tang hit her taste buds, muted but distinct. Unique without a specific flavor. She was licking her upper lip before she thought about it, hunting for more.

  His knowing grin had her freezing.

  “Have you ever tasted your own come?” she asked, brows lowering in a dare for him to lie. Did guys do that? Taste their come? It wasn’t a topic she’d covered with her brothers.

  “Yes.” He dipped to kiss her fully, licking the last of her juices from her lips before thrusting into her mouth, his hard response as erotic as his actions. The thought of him licking his come off her sent another blast of wild desire through her.

  She met his advance, staking her own dominance as he did his. This was give and take, power and passion too knotted to unwind.

  He dropped to his elbows, abdomen nestling against hers. She dug her heels into his hips, pushed up in a silent plea to be filled. One part of her brain was latched on the swirl of his tongue over hers, the other on the nudge and slide of his cock along her heat. So close but not in. Her stomach cramped, thighs tensing.

  She needed him in her.

  He jerked back, panting beneath desire-heavy eyes, and reached to align himself. Her gasp was a sharp inhale when his crown entered her then stopped. Passion, need and more clung to his features, his braced arms quivering. “I can love you.”

  Her breath was gone, there was absolutely no air in her lungs after those words. He slid into her, filling her as no other ever had. Deep and steady until there was nothing but them. One, not two. She was certain of that, had never felt so connected to anyone.

  His kiss was gentle, a soft touch that confirmed her belief. I can love you. Did he? Really? How? Why? When?

  Her hands shook when she slid them over his shoulders, held him. She took his weight, gladly accepted its presence. Light, so light it lifted the rest away.

  He rocked his hips to glide out then back into her, a smooth motion that rippled through her in a wave of heat. God. His gaze burned her when he lifted his head, everything pouring unchecked from them. Dark yet bright, she saw his desire and pain, fear and devotion. She saw love and wanted it so badly her heart clenched with the ache.

  “Then do,” she whispered as he moved within her. He jerked, a hard snap that ended with a smack of skin on skin. Her cry flew out on reflex, the pleasure firing sharp and wanting. “More.”

  He complied, thrusting into her with the strength of his powerful thighs and ass. He took her with increasingly harder strokes, driving deep. She clutched at his shoulders and pulled him down to capture his warmth.

  “Jacqui.” Her name came out like a plea, a desperate note she understood. Felt.

  He ground his forehead into her collarbone, back arching. His hips slowed, the pace grinding down to a moderate lunge. She tried to catch her breath, her attention focused on the sensation of his dick sliding over her sensitive inner walls. She clenched around him, savored his rumbled groan.

  Her smile broke across her lips. She still had power, even prone and begging beneath him. The dynamic thrilled and excited her more. Drove her higher.

  She gripped his ass, a cheek in each hand, and dug her fingers into the hard flesh as she ground against him. His head snapped up, eyes burning hers as she rolled her clit over him, sought her climax with a greed that seared her.

  There. There it was. Building tense and rough in her groin.

  With a sudden heave, Henrik sat up. He hitched her closer, pushed her legs up, hips working his thickness in and out of her in shallow thrusts as he watched. The image was so damn hot. So primal she could only stare and feel. She was exposed to him, every secret part open to him—literally and figuratively. And she didn’t care.

  Sweat clung to her chest, dampened her palms, her flesh a heated mass of cresting desire. His abs rippled and flexed with each rock of his hips in a show of strength that reached in to clench around her heart.

  Desperate, wanting, she found her swollen, hard clit and rubbed it. Shadows played over his face and body, adding an intimate touch that bordered on evil. Good and bad. Hard and soft.

  His groan rushed over her to peak her nipples and dance on her skin as he drove harder. His hands were clamps on her calves and he pushed them wider in order to sink deeper.

  “Yes.” The confirmation bled out of her on a wave of breath she barely heard. Blood roared in her ears, bound with her racing heart and the wall of ecstasy crashing around her.

  Her orgasm lurched her forward, abdominals clenching as he hammered into her, her finger rubbing madly on her clit.

  “Yes.” The repeated cry was wrenched from her dry throat, torn forward by the raging force of passion that exploded from her core. Wave after wave of pulsing sensation that flattened her to the mattress and sucked the air from her lungs.

  She floated in the dark wave of euphoria, heart pounding its allegro beat to crash in her ears. Steady, fast, filled with promise.

  Her legs were lowered, her hand slipping to the side to land on the bed. Henrik dropped over her, his warmth covering her heated skin, his hard thickness still stretching her. Full. So full and sated.

  With her eyes still closed, she forced her hands to smooth up his back, caress his skin and absorb his strength. The power he’d contained yet unleashed with care.

  Slowly she noted the tension in his muscles, the slight quivering that raced through his shoulders, the strain of his stiff hold where he hovered above her. She opened her eyes, confused and concerned to see his clenched jaw, perspiration wetting the hair that draped across his brow.

  Then she remembered her words spoken in a heated dare what seemed like hours ago. Yet he’d listened, followed and had given her what she’d forgotten about.

  Amazement meshed with tenderness and that strange, heady rush she’d yet to define. It filled her chest and heart with wonder and love. Yes, love.

  She held his gaze, mesmerized by his will and seemingly unending capacity to give. She lifted up, eyes still on his to press a kiss to his firm lips.

  “Come, Henrik.”

  She dropped back, flattened by the primal groan that tore from his chest. He thrust into her hard, demanding, and she opened to him, spread her legs wide and reveled as he unleashed his trapped desire. Each rapid drive pounded her closer to the headboard until she braced her hands on it.

  He buried his face in her neck, tensed and held for a hitch of a breath before he roared his release. The vibration tickled over her neck and infused her with a strange power as he shuddered through his climax, hips slowing until he sank into her, muscles going lax with his gasping breath.

  That was amazing. Wonderful. Incredible to watch and feel. She’d driven him to that wild release and damn…that was cool.

  She wrapped her arms and legs around him, held on like before, only this time she wasn’t mired in fear. No, this time she was filled with contentment.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Henrik shuffled his shoes on the cheery welcome mat, its greeting mocking the nerves that’d held his stomach in a tight ball most of the day. Thankfully, he’d had practice and an extra-long workout to keep him busy, or he might’ve driven himself crazy with doubts.

  The tiny ranch home was well maintained on a quaint street lined with similar style houses. The sun had already set, st
reetlights warding off the night. The mature trees and large shrubs lining the neighborhood matched the older homes. Quiet, a little worn but hardy. The home before him with burgundy trim against gray paint and white shutters was sharp, even if it appeared a bit faded.

  The amber hue of lights glowed around the curtain-covered windows and the faint sound of the TV drifted through the closed door to reach him. Another welcome that had him sucking in a fortifying breath.

  This wasn’t the first time he’d met a girlfriend’s parents and family. They were just the first ones who mattered to him. He’d grown closer to Jacqui since they’d opened up to each other last week, and this meeting was a big step forward in their relationship. He cared about the impression he made and wanted Jacqui’s family to like him. The distant charm he’d mastered before he’d hit his teens wouldn’t work here.

  A set of headlights flashed against the house, and he jerked around to watch a car pull into the narrow drive. He’d opted to park on the street. An easier escape if a quick exit was needed.

  The low rumble of the car engine turned off, silence descending. The interior light clicked on to highlight a man with shoulder-length dark hair tucked behind his ears. His gaze was clearly leveled on Henrik before he shoved the door open.

  Henrik straightened his spine, shoulder shifting back as the guy came around the older model sedan, a cold expression hardening his features. He was being judged, no doubt about it. He was more than used to it. Ready for it.

  The man bounded up the stairs to stand before him. The stoop wasn’t very big, which put the other guy well within Henrik’s space. A few inches shorter and a lot leaner than him, the man didn’t waver in his drilling assessment.

  Henrik held out his hand, eyes never shifting from the guy he assumed was one of Jacqui’s brothers. “Henrik.”

  The man didn’t move for a long moment, long enough for Henrik to think of withdrawing his hand. But the guy finally conceded, the shake a brief hold that was far from welcoming.

  “Aiden.” Face still stiff with cold distance. “Jacqui’s brother.”