Misconduct (Hot Ice series Book 6)

by Lily Harlem

  “What do you think I want to happen then?” He licked his bottom lip and blinked rapidly a couple of times.

  “I think you want me to fuck you.”

  “Got it in one.”

  A ripple of excitement traveled up my spine as images of what he was suggesting filled my mind. “Have you done it before though? With something like that?” I nodded at the fake cock. “Up your…?”

  “At the risk of shocking you, yeah, a few times.”

  “Who with?” Not rink bunnies. Please, not just any old lay.

  He shrugged as though it didn’t really matter, though of course it did, then said, “My ex. We liked to experiment with what got us going.” He glanced away. “Things might have gone wrong between us relationshipwise but there was never any issues with our sex life.”

  “Oh, I see.” I paused for a moment and studied him. He seemed so vulnerable confessing his history and exposing his desires to me, when he was naked and hungry for sex. It made me soften for him all the more and I was already pretty much a puddle of something scarily like falling for him.

  But I did understand exactly what he wanted. Though I was a little surprised that the great Dustin “Speed” Reed was willing to be bent over. Allow someone else to take control and shaft him up the ass.

  His turned back to me, grinned and cupped my cheek. “Hey, don’t look so worried, it’s just a bit of fun.” He stroked his thumb beneath my eye. “I’m comfortable enough with my masculinity and my love of women to know that enjoying a little ass play doesn’t make me gay.”

  “I can vouch for that,” I said, studying the dark lines that ringed his irises. We were so close and I was still gently caressing his cock. “You definitely like women and you certainly know your way around the female body.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “Mmm, I do.” I kissed him softly and slipped my index finger over his slit.

  “Ah, yeah,” he whispered against my lips. “Touch me, all over, inside and out. That would make this perfect, sweet cheeks.”

  “Might just be time for me to get acquainted with your sweet cheeks,” I murmured. “Help me on with this thing.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  God, we were really going to do this. I was really going to do this. It had never been a fantasy to use a strap-on, not even a thought, but now, well, now I was keen for the action to start.

  Dustin smiled. It was a lopsided grin that held nothing back, he was eager for this.

  I stood, rid my mind of curious thoughts and set about stepping into the strappy panties. Once pulled up, the cock stuck proud and upright from my mound. The feel of it, the sight of it, was strangely liberating and power inducing. I stroked it the same way I had Dustin’s and tried to imagine the sensations had it been real flesh.

  “Couldn’t hide that under one of those itsy-bitsy skirts you wear,” he said, rubbing his cheek and creating a sandpapery sound with his stubble and palm.

  I half smiled, but it was strange this glut of power my new cock gave me. I stepped toward the bathroom, felt it bob, the weight of it tugging the harness. God, was this how men felt all the time? No wonder they were always on the prowl.

  I tugged open a bathroom cabinet, tutted when I didn’t find what I was looking for and pulled at a drawer instead. Perfect. A full tube of lube.

  I filled the sink, took out a washcloth and washed the dildo in hot, soapy water. It smelled new, of silicone, like it was fresh from whatever factory made fake dicks.

  When I went back into the bedroom Dustin was rubbing his cock with languid movements, but his posture wasn’t lazy, he was tense, primed for takeoff, something about the spread of his legs and hunch of shoulders reminded me of how he stood in goal. Seeing him like that naked was glorious, his wide chest was rising and falling, his solid abdomen displaying all of his prominent muscles.

  I stopped right in front of him. “Close your eyes,” I said quietly, recalling what he’d said to me. “I want to adore you, touch you all over inside and out and make you forget who you are and why you’re here. Just give yourself over to me so I can bring you pleasure and then hold you together when your release threatens to drag your balls right out of your body and you feel like you’ll never stop coming.”

  His mouth fell a little slack. He stared at me for a moment and then shut his eyes.

  Where had all that come from? Shit. I hoped to hell I could keep my promises.

  I swallowed and took a deep breath. One thing was for sure, I wouldn’t find out unless I gave it a go.

  I reached for one of the scarves and then tied it around his head. It was pale yellow and edged with pink. The colors didn’t suit him, but what did suit Dustin was having him quiet, turned-on and doing as I told him—for once.

  “Stop playing with yourself,” I said, unfurling his fingers from his cock. “That’s for me to do.”

  He immediately set his hands on the bed, slightly behind himself.

  I took over the slow up-down movement on his cock, leaned forward and kissed his cheek, his neck and onto his collarbone. He tasted salty, a mixture of the sea and sweat from our exertions earlier, and his skin was warm and hard. “Relax,” I said. “You were able to do exactly what you wanted to me—”

  “Are you complaining?”

  “Hell, no. But now it’s my turn. Lie down. On your side.” I released his erection.

  The mattress shook as he shunted up the bed and flopped away from me. The ends of the scarf trailed onto the pillow behind him and he clenched his fists, one on the sheet in front of him and the other on his hip.

  For a moment I stared at his big, hard, body. He was quite possibly the hottest, roughest guy I’d ever had naked fun with. Then I curled in behind him, my fake cock sliding against his tense buttocks.

  I swept my upper hand down the length of his body, felt him quiver beneath my touch. Again I kissed him, licked him too. I wanted to explore every inch of him. His broad back was gorgeous, acres of flesh all sun-kissed and smooth.

  He moaned a little, deep in his chest, and I drifted my hand down his hip, over his hand to his knee. “Pull your leg up,” I said, my lips moving against his flesh. “So I can touch you where you want me most.”

  Again the bed shifted, so did I as he pulled his top leg upward, bending it at the knee and then clasping his shin. It seemed as good as position as any to prep him and I wanted to play with his cock too. Grip it in my hands as he came so I could feel the cum spurting up and out.

  Quickly I discarded the lid of the lube and flooded my fingers. I wasn’t particularly experienced in this but I knew enough to understand that he’d need to be plenty moist to take my big dick.

  “You okay?” I asked, nipping his shoulder and then kissing the sore spot.

  “Fuck yeah…” His voice was breathy. Anticipation? Excitement? A combination of both?

  “Good, now just relax.”

  He gasped a little as I spread cool lube around his anus and then slid my fingers forward to caress his balls. They were soft and hairless, partially retracted because of how turned-on he was. I took that as a good sign.

  Then I went back to his pucker and smeared the slippery wetness over the small wrinkles of skin.

  He trembled, a full body shake. I kissed and licked the base of his neck, making soothing noises. It was strange, this switch in control. But I liked it, more than liked it. I had the baddest, toughest goaltender in the NHL shivering for my touch, aching for my penetration, I was flying high on power and also in humbled awe of his trust.

  I slipped one finger into his dark heat, just the tip.

  “Ah Jesus, you touching me like that.” He twisted his head on the pillow. “Fucking awesome, but I can take it all, just do it…”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, fuck, I’m going to explode if you don’t do it soon.”

  “Are you giving me instructions when I’m the one in charge?” I couldn’t help but smile even though my tone was stern.

  “Nope
, just a fucking suggestion.” He groaned when I gave it to him right up to my knuckle. The deep softness of his insides was such a contrast to his hard exterior. I stroked a little, searching for the hard nub I knew would be there somewhere.

  A denseness on the inside wall caught my attention and I rubbed over it.

  He just about shot off the bed. “Fuck,” he grunted. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  “Mmm, I think it’s time for that,” I said, sliding my finger from his ass.

  He was panting as I lubed up the dildo, his leg still braced upward, giving me access.

  I adjusted my position a little so I could make sure I had accurate aim, and then, with the tip of the cock positioned at his hole, I pushed in a fraction of an inch.

  He resisted, or at least his ass did. Not surprising—it was a big cock.

  Carefully I moved in real close again, pressing my breasts into his back and reaching between his arm and his leg for his cock. “Take me,” I murmured. “Let me in.”

  “Just do it,” he said, wrapping his free hand around mine as I fisted his shaft. “Just fucking do it.” He set up a firm pressure and a determined pace, masturbating by using my hand beneath his.

  I pushed harder, curling my hips, and felt a sudden give. My cock slid in an inch or so and then I stilled to let him adjust to the size.

  “Oh, fuck…” he groaned.

  My heart was thudding, my belly tense and my clit was throbbing against the front of the panties. I reckoned it wouldn’t take much to tip me over the edge too. I was dizzy with desire, hyped up with lust, but I had to keep it controlled. Dustin was relying on me to.

  “Feeling good?” I asked.

  “Hell yeah!”

  I gave him more, loving how my increased entry extracted a moan and a tremble and then as I went higher a gasp and a jerk.

  “More?” I asked.

  “Yes, more. All the way.” He was moving my hand faster on his cock, almost as though using that sensation as a distraction from the burning stretch of my invasion.

  “I’m going to give you the whole thing now,” I said. “The way you did me, out there. Just fucking fucked me.”

  “Yeah, fuck me, sweet cheeks, fuck me, fuck me…”

  I released his cock and brought my hand down on his ass, a stinging slap that hurt my palm and sang around the room.

  He cried out, surprise more than pain I guessed.

  “I’ll fuck you when I’m ready. I’m in charge, I’m the boss.” I took a hold of his shaft again and once more he covered my knuckles with his palm and squeezed as I jerked him off.

  “Don’t I fucking know it.” He tipped his head backward, squashing his crown into my face. “Jesus Christ…ah…”

  He couldn’t wait any longer.

  Neither could I.

  “Hold on to something,” I said. “You’ll need to.”

  As I’d spoken I’d ridden to full penetration, seating the dildo as high as it would go.

  “Ah, damn it.” His voice sounded strangled but he pushed down, as though wanting more.

  There was no more to give, so I withdrew, drove back in, hoping that my angle was rubbing over his prostate.

  It seemed it had. The guttural whimper that vibrated through his body was like nothing I’d ever heard before.

  “Yeah, like that,” he gasped when I stilled at full depth. “Oh, yeah, give it to me like that. More, more…”

  I remembered what it had been like for me in my dark world, just sensation and his touch, his kisses, his determination to make me come spectacularly. So I began to work a rhythm, pulling almost out and easing in. His hole took me easily now, so it seemed, and his insides accepted me. Each time the root of the cock buried deep, the panties rubbed on my clit and the pressure in my pelvis was mounting. It spurred me on—perhaps I too would come.

  His cock was solid. I wasn’t sure how much harder it could get before he climaxed. That wouldn’t be long. I was making sure the cant of my hips was just right on each thrust. Each time the flare of the cock head butted over his internal hot spot he groaned and stilled for a split second.

  “You want to come?” I asked breathlessly.

  “Yes, fuck, yes.”

  “Come then. Come for me. Let me feel you let it all go. All of it. Flood my hand, let me flood you.”

  “Ah, ah…ah…”

  He arched his back.

  I tunneled deeper still.

  “Fuck, there it is, yes, yes, yes,” he hissed.

  His shaft spasmed and his entire body froze as my palm filled with cum.

  I continued to ram into him, the movement creating a tapping pressure on my clit that matched my rapid pulse rate. A small climax shook my pussy and I gasped, the surprise of it catching my breath.

  “Don’t stop,” he moaned as another ejection of cum burst from him, coating both of our fingers. His hand was still wrapped around mine, setting the furiously fast pace.

  I was grinding in and out. Taking him right through his release as I’d said I would. In that moment I felt more masculine than ever before, being inside another person, drawing pleasure from them. The control, the invasion, the possession, it was a powerful place to be.

  He was shaking, battling for breath. Another rope of semen ripped from his cock and he curled forward, fetal-like, releasing his top leg as though the effort of holding it high had become too much.

  I pressed my cheek to his shoulder, held him tight, closed my eyes and absorbed the tremors of pleasure besieging him.

  Eventually we both stilled. I stayed lodged inside him with my hand around his cock and waited as our breathing came back to normal.

  After several minutes he straightened out his spine and released my hand. The sticky cum was cooling and his cock softening.

  “That worked for you?” I asked, nuzzling the tip of my nose into his nape.

  “Off the fucking scale worked for me,” he said. “Jesus, didn’t think I’d stop firing.”

  I kissed the patch of skin where his shoulder met his neck. “I’m going to pull out, okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m done.”

  He tensed as I withdrew the dildo, then seemed to flop bonelessly against the mattress with the blindfold still in place.

  Quickly I went to the bathroom and took off the strap-on. I dropped it in the sink with hot, soapy water, gave it a thorough clean and then put it back in the drawer—evidence of our naughty game erased but the memories set in forever.

  I climbed back on the bed and spooned in next to him, carefully undid the scarf from his head and tossed it aside. He barely moved, barely seemed to register my actions. I guessed now it was his turn to sleep off his orgasm and I was happy to hold him while he did so.

  Chapter Fourteen

  We must have dozed for an hour or two—me pressed into Dustin’s back, him clutching my arms around him—because when we woke the sunshine had gone from the front of the house and the room was no longer bathed in morning light.

  Dustin cleared his throat and turned, faced me. His face was soft and sleepy and I stroked my hand over his stubbled jawline.

  “I think you fucked me unconscious, sweet cheeks,” he whispered.

  I grinned. “You had a good time then?”

  He grinned too. “No, it was fucking awful.”

  “Liar.”

  He kissed me and pushed my hair over my ears. “I’m hungry,” he said. “Let’s go eat something other than each other.”

  He got up from the bed and reached for his trunks. On his left buttock was a fading pink handprint.

  He caught me staring. “What?”

  “Seems you have a memento of your bad behavior,” I said, pointing.

  He spun and looked over his shoulder. “Perhaps I’ll be bad more often.”

  “I don’t think that could be possible.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  “Mmm, no.”

  He laughed. “I told you when we first met that I might enjoy you slapping me. Didn’t think back then that you’d act
ually get a swat at my bare ass.”

  “No, it was your other cheeks I was thinking about marking.” I frowned at the memory.

  He walked over and cupped my face. “You’re a harsh boss, you know that?”

  “You love it.”

  He kissed me, winked and then straightened. “I’ll cook. You shower and dress and do your hair.” He paused and spun a circle by his ear with his hand. “Or do whatever it is girls do, and be ready in twenty.”

  *

  Dustin made a salad with cold chicken and rice. It wasn’t cordon bleu but I was hungry, and sitting on the deck with him, eating, was perfect.

  I looked at the cloudless skyline and then watched a hummingbird busying at the flowers. Dustin was eating in that functional way of his. He needed calories, fuel, and he was going for it.

  I sipped a glass of iced water and looked at the little threads he wore on his wrist.

  “What are they for? Some kind of weird religion?”

  “Nah.” He shook his head.

  “So what then?” I speared a chunk of chicken and popped it into my mouth.

  He shrugged. “I promised someone I’d wear them.”

  “Who’d you promise? Your ex-wife?”

  He snorted. “Hardly.”

  I waited, wondering if he’d tell me now or if I’d have to probe further.

  He sighed, sat back and reached for his water. “It’s a long story, but basically a few years back I was doing some charity work at the local hospital.” He paused and looked out at the horizon I’d been studying moments ago. “I got friendly with a kid there. He was a mad hockey fan, thought I was the business.”

  “What was his name?”

  “Joel.”

  A sadness washed over his eyes and his lips tightened. He set down his water.

  I swallowed, not wanting the answer to my next question but knowing I had to ask anyway. “What happened to Joel?”

  “He had terminal cancer, a brain tumor.” Dustin shook his head. “He had a short, painful life but faced it with a smile and bravery. I was in awe of him, to be honest.”

  “How old was he, when…?”