She stares at me, eyes heavy with desire. "I want you to fuck me, Tucker. Hard."
The crude language on her lips sends a jolt through me. I enter her with one powerful thrust, earning a cry that she muffles with her fist. I palm her tits with one hand, tweaking her brown nipples as I set a punishing rhythm.
"Such a perfect dirty girl," I praise, watching where ourbodies join. "Taking my cock so well. You like it rough, don't you?"
"God, yes," she gasps, meeting each thrust.
I reach between us to find her clit, circling it with my fingers. "Touch your tits," I command. "Show me how you like it."
She does, one hand moving to cup her breast, pinching her nipple. The sight nearly undoes me.
"That's it," I encourage, my voice strained. " fucking sexy."
I can feel her body beginning to tighten around me, her movements becoming more erratic. I increase the pressure of my fingers, matching the rhythm of my thrusts.
"You going to come for me?" I demand, feeling my own release building. "Come all over my cock like the dirty girl you are?"
"Yes," she cries, her body tensing. "Tucker, I'm?—"
"Do it." I tighten my grip on her hip. "Come for me now, greedy girl.”
She breaks with a cry that she barely muffles against the pillow, her inner muscles clenching around me in waves. The sensation pushes me over the edge, and I follow her into release, burying myself deep inside her as pleasure crashes through me.
My body tingles, nerve endings on fire as my blood thrums through my veins.
I carefully withdraw, yanking off the condom before pulling her against my chest. We're both breathing hard, skin slick with sweat.
"You okay?" I ask, suddenly conscious of how aggressive I'd been.
She nods against my chest. "More than okay."
"Your hair alright? I didn't pull too hard?"
Her laugh is soft and satisfied. "You handled it perfectly."
I brush my lips against her forehead, surprised by the tenderness I feel. "Good. I like knowing what you like."
She melts into me, her curls tickling my chin, her hand resting over my heart. The silence between us is comfortable, not awkward.
"Well," she says finally, a smile in her voice. "I can see why they hired you to endorse those."
I laugh, the tension in my chest dissolving. "Wait till you try the socks."
She props herself up on one elbow, looking down at me with those incredible green eyes. Something about her gaze makes me feel exposed in a way that has nothing to do with our nakedness.
"What are you thinking?" I ask, tugging on a curl and watching it spring back into shape.
"That I wasn't expecting this," she admits.
"The mind-blowing sex, or the Thin Ice condoms?"
She swats my chest lightly. "Both, I guess. But mostly... you."
I understand exactly what she means. In my world, people see what they expect to see—the hockey player, the enforcer, the Stag family troublemaker. But Sloane's looking at me like she sees something else entirely.
"I know what you mean," I tell her, tracing patterns on her bare shoulder. "This feels... different."
She doesn't ask how or why, just nods like she understands. Then she stretches, her body moving sinuously against mine, reigniting the hunger I thought was temporarily sated.
