She swallowed hard but didn’t pull away; instead; she leaned in again, urgency radiating from her. “He doesn’t scare me anymore,” she said quietly. “Not with you here.”
That statement ignited something primal within me—a fierce need to protect and claim all at once. I captured her lips again with renewed fervor. My hands roamed down her back as I lifted her slightly off the ground; she gasped into the kiss but didn’t resist—only clung tighter as if anchoring herself to me.
Her taste became more intoxicating with every movement, and soon we were lost in a rhythm that felt entirely natural—a dance we hadn’t practiced yet knew by heart. It consumed me completely—the feel of her warmth against my chest as if she were made just for me.
She pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, her breath shaky. “How did you know?—”
“I heard it in your voice,” I said, my own low and rough with everything I hadn’t been able to say over the phone. I leaned in, letting my lips brush the curve of her neck. She shivered, and the sound she made—soft, involuntary—lit something wild in my chest. “I knew something was wrong.”
The second I kissed her again, she melted into me. Her body arched against mine, her hands tightening at my shoulders. That spark between us ignited like a fuse—fast, hungry, inevitable.
“Will you…” she breathed, her voice catching between shallow exhales, “will you be penalized?”
A smirk tugged at my mouth as I dragged my hand to the hem of her shirt, fingers brushing skin without lifting it. Teasing. Anchoring. “I don’t care.”
“Nikolai,” she said, half-warning, half-plea. Her voice trembled with something that wasn’t fear—it was need, and maybe guilt too. “I won’t… I won’t let you give up hockey…”
I pulled back enough to look her in the eye, my palm cradling her cheek. “I won’t,” I promised, my voice steadier than I felt. I pressed a kiss just beneath her eye, then one to her cheek. “But you’ll always come first.” The truth of it sat heavy in my chest, but right. “And I mean that in every way.”
She blushed then—genuine, unguarded. The kind of blush you didn’t fake. It hit me hard, how beautiful she was when she wasn’t trying to be. That kind of softness? It undid me.
She looked down, hesitating, like she needed a second to believe all of this was real. That I was real. That we were. I didn’t move. I just waited.
She leaned in again, and this time, when we kissed, there was no doubt. No question. Just a promise wrapped in every touch: we were all in, consequences be damned.
Mina's fingers trembled as she tugged at my shirt, her eyes locked onto mine. I could see the desire burning in her gaze, mixed with a hint of nervousness that only made me want her more. I let her pull the shirt over my head, my muscles flexing as I helped her along. Her breath hitched as she took in the sight of me, her hands tracing the lines of my chest, my abs, as if she were committing every inch to memory.
I took my time, letting her explore, even as my own hands itched to do the same. When she finally looked up at me, her eyes wide and dark with need, I couldn't wait any longer. I reached for the hem of her shirt, slowly pulling it up and over her head. Her hair cascaded down her back, and I couldn't resist running my fingers through the soft strands, tugging gently to tilt her head back.
Her breath came in short gasps as I leaned in, kissing her neck, her collarbone, my hands roaming over her smooth skin. I could feel her heart racing under my touch, and it sent a surge of heat straight to my groin. I wanted to take my time, to savor every moment, but the urge to have her was overwhelming.
I unhooked her bra with one hand, letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts were perfect, fitting neatly into my palms as I cupped them, my thumbs brushing over her nipples. She moaned softly, arching into my touch, and I couldn't help but smile against her skin.
"You're so fucking beautiful," I murmured, my voice rough with desire. She shivered at the words, her hands gripping my shoulders as if she needed something to hold onto.
I dropped to my knees in front of her, my hands sliding down her sides to grip her hips. Her breath hitched as I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her jeans, pulling them down along with her underwear. She stepped out of them, her body trembling slightly as she stood before me, completely bare.
I looked up at her, taking in the sight of her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, her eyes dark with desire. She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, and I wanted to worship every inch of her.
I leaned in, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh. She gasped, her hands gripping my hair as I trailed kisses up her leg, moving closer to where she wanted me most. I could smell her arousal, and it drove me wild. I wanted to taste her, to feel her come apart under my touch.
When I finally reached her pussy, I couldn't hold back a groan. She was wet and hot, and the first taste of her sent a shockwave of pleasure through my body. I gripped her hips tighter, holding her in place as I feasted on her, my tongue exploring every inch of her.
She moaned and writhed above me, her hands tugging at my hair, her hips bucking against my mouth. The sounds she made were intoxicating, driving me to give her more, to push her higher. I could feel my own desire building, my cock hard and aching, but I ignored it, focusing solely on her pleasure.
I slid a finger inside her, and she cried out, her body clenching around me. I added a second finger, pumping in and out of her as my tongue continued to work her clit. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, and I knew she was close.
"Nikolai," she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm... I'm going to..."
I didn't let up, didn't slow down. I wanted to feel her come, to taste her release. And when she finally did, her body convulsing around my fingers, her cries echoing through the room, it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever witnessed.
I slowed my movements, letting her ride out the waves of her orgasm, my own body aching with need. When she finally stilled, her breath coming in ragged gasps, I looked up at her, a smirk playing at the corners of my mouth.
"You taste fucking decadent," I said, my voice rough with desire. She blushed, her eyes meeting mine with a mixture of shyness and satisfaction.
I stood up, my hands sliding up her body to cup her face. I leaned in, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself on my lips. She moaned into the kiss, her body pressing against mine, and I knew she was ready for more.
But I wanted to take my time, to savor every moment. I wanted to make her feel as good as she made me feel, to show her that she was worth every second of my attention. And so, I slowed down, my hands exploring her body as if it were a sacred ground, my lips tasting every inch of her skin.
