Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, bracing a shaky hand on my shoulder.
“Yes. Keep going.”
I gritted my teeth and fought the urge to push him off me as pain radiated through me. It didn’t subside immediately, but it would. In the meantime, I concentrated on Riley. The sheer wonder in his gaze was mixed with something like adoration. It was humbling and beautiful and so much more than I thought I deserved.
But God, he made me want to be worthy.
He buried his cock deep inside me and went perfectly still with his eyes closed. The sound of labored breathing mingled with the scrape of a tree branch against my window. I inhaled and exhaled with purpose, willing my body to adjust. Riley lifted my right leg to his shoulder and slowly pulled out and slowly pushed in. My eyeballs rolled in my head like a defective Halloween toy as pleasure chased pain away in an instant.
He licked the seam of my lips and whispered, “So good, baby. You feel so fucking good. Magnifique.”
French? Oh, that was unfair. I grabbed his ass, tilting my hips to meet his thrusts. “Mmm. That’s it. More, mon ami.”
I winced inwardly. There was a rule somewhere about sweet nothings and terms of endearment in the heat of the moment. And everyone knew that certain words were a no-no—like love.
My love, mon ami.
He fucked away my offhand worries, moving like thunder while issuing a command for me to stroke my cock in a gravelly porn-star voice I felt in my bones. I smeared precum over the tip and watched him through hooded eyelids, admiring his every contour from the shadowy planes of his toned abs to his muscular pecs.
“Fuck, I’m almost there.” He pulled away abruptly, gripping his base as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Sorry. I don’t want to stop, but I—”
“Shh. It’s okay.” I tugged him close, rolling over and straddling his torso before lowering myself onto his dick.
I didn’t give him a chance to weigh in on the change of view. I dug my knees into the mattress and rode him hard. Sweat dripped from my forehead to my cheek as I slid up and down, jacking my cock furiously. Riley licked his lips, scratching his thumbnails over my nipples and for whatever reason, that was the final straw. I couldn’t hold off my release for another second.
My rhythm faltered, then stopped altogether as my orgasm crashed into me, sending me reeling and trembling toward a cliff. Riley took control, pushing me sideways, clutching my hips as he pounded into me. He roared like a wild beast a moment later, filling me with his seed.
That was new.
All of this was new. And dare I say…perfect.
But perfect never lasted, and this was already almost over. My last conscious thought as I went boneless in his arms was that losing him was going to hurt.
Riley
Confession. I’d never enjoyed watching a lover sleep until now. Sleepovers had always made me uneasy, and I didn’t like hanging out with a naked stranger any longer than necessary. I usually manufactured a reason to get going as soon as politely possible. I could always blame hockey—an early practice, a meeting, exhaustion—and no one batted an eyelash.
I didn’t need excuses here. This was exactly where I wanted to be.
I noted the lines at the corner of Jean-Claude’s eyes and mouth, the reddish stubble on his strong jaw, and the faint scar near his lip. He had a hairy chest, a belly, and freckles across his shoulders. Maybe he wasn’t traditionally handsome, but he was the kind of man you’d never forget. He had a commanding presence and an intimidating no-bullshit attitude that clearly communicated he didn’t suffer fools.
Yet somehow, I’d made it through every line of defense. He’d let me inside him. He hadn’t hesitated. He’d opened his arms and legs and invited me to take whatever I needed. Whatever I wanted. I’d never been more in awe of an act in my life. Sex was social currency and physical release. It was fun as long as no one took things too seriously and like I said, I’d always made sure my boundaries were well defined.
Now, everything had changed.
It wasn’t the sex itself—which, for the record, was fucking mind-blowing. It was him. And it was knowing that this giant grump of a man had broken his rules for me too. And here we were…two clueless idiots playing a sort of waiting game before real life started again and we were forced to make big decisions. Would he stay in Elmwood or try his luck in Pinecrest? Would I finish this season or retire early?
Jean-Claude’s choices didn’t personally impact me, but I felt his restlessness and I knew he felt mine. We’d become friends, confidantes, cheerleaders. He knew things about me I’d never shared with another soul. But would any of it matter next season?