It’s sexy to see how she so easily falls apart and loses control.
And yet, despite her sedated body, she’s still present, she’s still moving with me, clenching around me.
“Feels so goddamn good,” I whisper into her ear. “So good, Adalyn.”
She bites down on my earlobe and says, “Harder. Fuck me harder, Hayden.”
Christ.
This woman. A biter, a dirty talker, a fucking queen in my arms.
I give her what she wants, slamming into her, her back hitting the wall, our attempt at being quiet washed away with unbridled passion.
Moaning into my mouth now, she clamps around my cock, her body stilling, her hands trembling. She gasps and then murmurs a slew of curse words as her pussy contracts around my cock, the sensation so powerful, so overwhelming that within seconds, my balls are tightening and I’m coming pulse after pulse.
I come so hard and so long I almost forget where I am when I moan her name, the sound echoing in the small dressing room.
If peoplewerewondering what we were doing in here, they sure as hell know now.
Fuck, but was it worth it.
Slowing my hips, I take a deep breath and open my eyes to find Adalyn staring back at me. A lazy smile passes over her lips as she gives me a quick peck to my nose.
“That was so fucking hot,” she whispers, not that she needs to, not after what we just did. “Well worth the wait.”
“Yeah?”
She nods. “Yes, you were easily worth the wait.”
“God, Adalyn. Phenomenal. You are phenomenal.” Actually, there are no words to describe that. Being inside her . . . touching her . . . fuckingher.She’s everything . . .She’s quickly becoming my everything.
She’s everything.
I thank God I met this girl.My girl.
With another gentle kiss, to my lips this time, I become lost in the feel of her once again. I’m so fucking glad I took the time away from my normal crazy and went to Binghamton when my season ended. Withoutthatdecision, I never would have met Adalyn, the woman who didn’t steal my heart, but to whom I gladly gave it.She’s becomingmyeverything.
* * *
Adalyn rests her head against my shoulder, her wavy, air-dried hair tickling my chin, and her sweet scent consuming me. Old northeastern homes pass by in the windows, the familiar streets of Binghamton painting a path to Adalyn’s place.
The past two days have been . . . Fuck, I don’t even know how to describe it.
Life-changing.
I can remember getting the call to play professional hockey. I remember where I was sitting, what I was watching, what I was eating.
My parents’ house, on their big brown sectional, watching the movie Ratatouille with my mom because it was about a cooking mouse, which my mom thought was adorable. We were eating homemade beef Wellington. Fancy feast for two movie watchers. But that’s how we rolled. My phone rang, and it was my agent.
The room stilled, the air around us heavy, my mind whirling withholy fucksandI can’t believe I did it. It was singularly the proudest, more exciting moment of my life.
Little did I know, it was going to be rivaled.
The past two days . . .
They’ve rivaled the feeling I had when I first found out about being signed with the Brawlers.
I’m happy. I feel at peace with Adalyn in my arms. It almost is like my life is coming full circle, everything falling into place.
