Her pussy tightens around my fingers to the point I can hardly move them. And then it breaks. Harper comes with a raw, broken shout, her body convulsing around my fingers and against my tongue. I pull my fingers out, then gently lick her folds, drawing out every last shudder until she is limp.
I stand and reach for her shower gel, squeezing a few dollops into my palms. I work it into a lather and begin to wash her. I soap her stomach, her breasts, then drop to my knees once more to wash the inside of her trembling thighs.
Only when she is clean do I quickly lather and rinse myself.
Without a word, I wrap her in a towel, lift her into my arms, and carry her to my bed, laying her down on the sheets.
The towel falls away as I lay her on the bed, her skin glowing in the soft light. For a long moment, I just look at her, taking in her full breasts, still hardened nipples, and the rapid flutter of her pulse at her throat.
The control I maintained in the shower completely shatters, replaced by a raw, aching need that’s anything but gentle.
I follow her down, bearing my weight on my arms, and crush my mouth to hers. She melts against me, her mouth opening under mine. She tastes of sweet mint, and I can’t get enough of it.
When I finally break away, we’re both gasping for air.
“Turn over,” I say, my voice rough and strained.
A shiver racks her body, but she obeys, getting on all fours, her ass curvy and round.
I run my palm down the length of her spine, from her neck to the swell of her hips, and feel her tremble. My fingers slide lower, through the slick heat of her pussy, and she moans, pushing back against my hand. She’s so wet, already ready for me.
I grab a condom from my nightstand and roll it on quickly. When I arrange myself behind her, my world narrows to this space, this woman. Gripping her hip with one hand, I line up my cock with the soaked entrance to her pussy. I lean over her, draping my body along the length of her back, and press an open-mouthed kiss to her shoulder. And then I push inside. The air vanishes from my lungs. A low groan tears from my throat as I sink all the way in, my hips flush against her ass. For a second, I don’t move, giving her time to adjust.
She lets out a little whimper when I pull out almost all the way, only to cry out when I plunge into her in one brutal thrust.
“You feel so fucking good,” I tell her, my voice guttural. “So wet and tight for me.”
“Perfect. You’re fucking perfect,” Harper says in between moans.
I growl filthy words as I slam into her, the sounds of our ragged breathing and the slap of my hips against her ass fill the room.
“Faster,” Harper says.
I increase my pace, each thrust going deeper. It doesn’t take long before her walls are clenching around me. Readjusting my position, I slide a hand around her hip, then tease her pulsing clit with my fingers.
Harper cries out, her whole body tensing.
“That’s it, come for me,” I command, my own release coiling tight in the pit of my stomach. “Let me feel you come on my cock.”
Her climax hits her, a wave of contractions that milks me, and I lose all control. With a final, deep thrust, I follow her over the edge, my own release crashing through me.
I collapse over her, then, realizing how heavy my body must be on her, I fall to the side and take her along with me. I hold her for a few minutes, then get up to get rid of the condom.
“Cole, we should talk about this,” Harper says when I come out of the bathroom, propping herself on her elbow to look at me.
She’s scared. I get that, but right now, I’m still in that daze of good sex. Better than good. It’s the best sex I’ve had in years.
“This is complicated,” she says, eyes boring into mine.
“It doesn't have to be.”
She lifts her head to look at me. “Of course it does. I'm planning more events for your team. What happens when this burns out? When you get bored? When you meet someone else?”
The questions sting. They imply that I’m some kind of man whore. And while that’s the usual hockey player persona, that isn’t me. “Is that what you think this is? Just physical?”
“Isn't it?” Her green eyes search mine. “We're attracted to each other, we're living in close quarters, we gave in to temptation. But that doesn't change the fact that we’re wrong for each other.”
She has a point, and I hate that she does. We are wrong for each other. Harper is not my type, purely for the fact that I want her to stick around.
