My hand glides up her sweater, warming her up. I palm her hard nipple through the fabric, and kiss back up until my forehead meets hers, breathing in her floral fragrance. I hope she put it on just for me.
“Tell me to stop,” I hiss.
She shakes her head. “Don’t stop.”
I raise her sweater enough to reveal her lacy bra. I suck one nipple through the fabric.
“Shall I keep going?” I speak along the creamy skin of her cleavage, inhaling the other nipple.
“Mm. Yes,” her voice barely whispers.
My fingers work down her soft tummy, down her leggings, to the hot apex between her thighs. I rub her there, and she squirms in my hold.
“More?”
“Yes.”
I dip my hand into her leggings, into her panties.
“Are you wet for me?”
She moans my name. I play my fingers through her seam. She is wet and more than ready. I’ll bet she’s been wet for me since the day she walked into the arena. Because I’ve been hard for her every single day, but this secret rendezvous in the closet is all about her.
“I can stop any time you say,” I assure her.
Her hands land on my chest, pushing slightly against me, searching my face. And just when I think she might push me away altogether, she gathers my shirt and pulls me in.
“No, don’t stop. It’s been so long, Eli.” Sweet music to my ears.
My fingers press her clit, and she arches into me, head thrown back, moaning more.
“You need a man to treat you right, don’t you, baby? I can be that man. Right here, right now.”
“Yes. Be that man.”
With her permission clear, I find her lips again, swallowing her moans. Her thigh comes up on mine, my fingers tweak her clit until she’s close to the edge, right where I want her, begging for more, more.
Out of the corner of my eye, I gauge how far to the nearest bench where she’ll be more comfortable, when I spy an extra set of hockey gloves on the shelf.
“Look.” I break away from her lips for a second and grab the left one and put it on. Her eyes grow bright with want and need. “Remember how creative I get with a hockey glove?”
“Oh, yes.” She bites her bottom lip and nods. Her hands beat me to her waistband, and she surprises me, pulling down her panties and leggings to her knees.
I lower my gloved hand between her thighs, her breath hitching. More kisses trade between us, hungrier, while I’m dying for her to soil the glove.
She moans and reaches down, and presses the glove further, soaking the leather fabric of it through her channel. I let her run the show, guiding my hand as I coax the plump, padded thumb of the glove inside her, stretching through her tight walls. Oh, to be that thumb right now…
My mind quiets everything, focusing here with her and nowhere else, because she’s letting this happen, wanting this to happen, clinging to my shoulders as if desire isn’t enough to keep me right here with her.
“Yes, Eli, yes,” she purrs, gyrating on the glove as I hold her upright. With half-lidded green orbs, she captures my gaze in an intense dance. We find a rhythm, my thumb thrusting inside her, her hips meeting me, spiraling higher and tighter.
My cock thunders, roars, begging to burst through the zipper of my jeans, dying to know the feel of her once again. But he’ll have to chill the fuck out because I’m saving him for a special night, one where we’re in a proper bed and I can have her all night long.
She bucks harder, crying out, until her body finally allows the heat between us to erupt. My eyes never leave her face, watching her shake and come undone in my arms in the most beautiful way, with my name moaning from her lips like a melody.
I hold her through the waves of release, rubbing soft circles on her back, until her breathing evens out. I’m so into thiswoman, but does she have a clue she still holds the key to my heart, and it’s pounding out of my chest?
When she stirs, I remove the glove and admire my handiwork, the leather dripping with her.
