Chapter 14
Excuse me, Sir, are you going regimental? I cannot count how many times I refrained from asking that while touring the Highlands. Scotland it beautiful. The scenery is stunning, both the architecture and its occupants. Looking for a full moon on this windy night.
~ Adventurous Amanda, April 2012
She did not laugh as he drove over—but not recklessly—the speed limit to his condo. She was too tense to chuckle. She trailed her hand along the inside of his thigh, and he gripped her fingers, placing them back on the console with a growl.
That growl did things to her that she’d never felt before with anyone else. An all-consuming need enveloped her, as it had every time she saw him. It was about damn time they got to explore it, preferably without interruptions, and without clothes.
In minutes they were finally pulling into the underground garage at his condo. She’d never been to his place before, and it looked impressive. Of course he made a shit ton playing hockey, but she’d never really thought about how much that actually was.
He pulled into a spot, surrounded by luxury cars that blended well with his.
He stepped out of the car and walked around the hood. His jacket wasn’t buttoned and it flapped open, hinting at the delectable ass she was finally going to get her hands on.
Finally.
“Ready?” he asked, opening her door, and gripping her hand to pull her from his car. He tugged her, and she fell against his chest. He pressed a hard kiss to her lips and she melted into him.
“To make out in your luxury parking garage when I bet there’s a perfectly good bed in your condo?” she teased, her words husky and stilted.
He grinned down at her. “No, that was just to tide you over until I get you upstairs.”
“I’m going to need more than that,” she said, linking her hand around his back, under his jacket, and grabbing his ass.
Holy crap. Firm, perfect bubble. It was going to look so much nicer once she’d stripped him. They needed to get this show on the road before she started drooling.
“Impatient?”
“Aren’t you?” she asked.
“You have no idea,” he muttered.
“Pretty sure I do,” she said with a laugh as she tugged him toward the door and into the waiting elevator.
Unfortunately, they picked up a few people on the lobby floor, so climbing him in the elevator was out.
But then everyone got off the elevator on the tenth floor. And a couple got on at that twelfth floor. Who did that, dammit?
“Oh, this is going up. Guess we got on the wrong one. Oh well. I love riding on elevators, don’t you?” the woman babbled to Amanda. Amanda just nodded. Seriously? She’d like to do some riding in the elevator—on Ben.
He needed his own elevator. To make matters worse, he continued to hold her close, his finger trailing up and down her spine. She refused to visibly shiver, but that was with great difficulty. He was going to pay for his torture later.
Finally, they made it to his floor. One from the top. And he tugged her down the hall.
“You need to get the penthouse,” she muttered.
He laughed. “And why is that?”
“Then you get your own elevator, right? And I could’ve done wicked things to you in there.”
He visibly swallowed, and she grinned. Served him right for tormenting her.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, ushering her into his condo.
The door shut behind them, and he pressed her to the wall just inside, then sealed his lips to hers.
Finally. No interruptions. No mom, no games, no secrets. And hopefully, in rapid time, no clothes.
She broke the kiss, and linked her arms around his neck. “While I’m sure this place is lovely, give me the tour tomorrow. I want to see your bedroom.”
His laugh was pained as he dropped his head to hers. “Keep that up and I won’t last long.”
“That’s okay. There’s always round two and three. Maybe even four,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows as he scooped her up in his arms. She linked her legs around his waist and held on as he strode down the hallway. The place was probably amazing, but she only had eyes for him, and the way he gazed at her, she wasn’t planning on touring his condo for a while.
He walked her into the bedroom at the end of the hall and flipped on the light, and she finally took a look around.
Holy shit, his bedroom was huge, like almost the size of her little house. One wall was entirely floor to ceiling windows with a view of the Bay. The bridge was lit up with white lights.
“Wow,” she said, sliding her legs from around his waist and making her way toward the windows. “Turn off the light,” she ordered, and he flooded the room in darkness. “This view is amazing.”
A strong arm wrapped around her waist, and she was tugged back against him. “Yes. It’s stunning,” he said, and she turned to face him. He wasn’t looking out the window, but at her.
“That’s a pretty good line, Cheese,” she said, her voice breathless.
“It’s not a line. And don’t call me Cheese in my own home,” he growled.
“If you keep growling, I’ll call you Cheese all night,” she taunted, and then gasped when he swung her up in his arms and dropped her on the bed with a bounce. He flipped on a small lamp to bathe the room in low light.
He toed off his shoes and socks, and slipped hers from her feet. He climbed on the bed and settled over her. He rolled, so she ended up on top, her legs straddling his waist, his hard cock against her ass. Her hands fell to his chest to keep herself up, and she rolled her hips against him. His chest muscles bunched beneath her palms and she curled her fingers into his shirt, wanting to rip it from his body.
“This would be much better if you didn’t have pants on,” she said, rocking against him.
“No kidding,” he said on a groan, sitting up and scooting to the edge of the bed before standing, with her in his arms.
That would never not be hot as hell.
Her legs slid down his body and she stood in front of him. She whipped her shirt off over her head and reached for the hem of his, her fingers inching below the fabric. His muscles fluttered under her touch. She’d never seen him shirtless in person. Online, yes. But it wasn’t the same. Her nails skated across his abs. He was sporting at least a six-pack under there, if not more.
The marvels of what hockey did to the human form. They should never wear shirts. Safety precautions be damned.
She gave herself an inner fist pump and giggled.
“It’s probably not good to laugh right before you take my shirt off,” he said, his dimple peeking out.
“I was just thinking about how you should never wear a shirt, even on the ice. It’s a crime to cover up your glorious chest,” she said, her fingers still traveling higher under his shirt.
“And how have you seen me without a shirt? Pretty sure we’ve never gotten this far.”
“Obviously, the internet. Now strip. Let’s make sure those pictures weren’t photoshopped.”
She laughed as his cheeks brightened. He almost looked sheepish. It was adorable. Then he yanked his shirt off over his head, and it was no longer adorable.
Definitely not photoshopped.
Holy fucking hell. Lean muscle stretched over his chest, his six-pack bisected with a fine line of hair that trailed down to his waistband. That happy trail she ached to explore. A small smattering of hair covered the top of his chest. Just enough to scratch her nails through. She’d never been a fan of totally bare chests. There was something so overwhelmingly masculine about the right amount of chest hair.
Her lips were wet, and she wasn’t sure if it was from his kisses or if she’d started drooling. She reached out, tracing each line all the way down to that V. That perfect V. As if the happy trail wasn’t enough to highlight what she wanted most, that V was.
He sucked in a breath as she explored him, his hands clenched at his sides, his breathing labored.
“You planning on touching me?” she whispered, and his chuckle was strained.
“Didn’t want to ruin your concentration. Looks like you’re studying me.”
“A gentleman wouldn’t call a woman out like that,” she said, reaching up and tweaking his nipple.
“Hey,” he exclaimed pulling back. “Didn’t we decide I wasn’t going to be a gentleman tonight?”
“Then why do I still have clothes on?”
He barked out a laugh. “We should fix that immediately.”
There was a twinkle in his eyes as he grinned. This playful side of Ben was unexpected and added to his appeal. Not that there was room to add more since she was about to explode with need, her body was wound so tight.
He picked her up and laid her out on the bed, then dragged her pants down her legs, a gleam in his eyes that she never wanted to see wane as he revealed her inch by inch.
“Stunning,” he whispered, trailing his finger along the edge of her bra, his touch so faint she swore her nipples reached for him, as he barely grazed her breasts, then traced the indent at her waist and along her belly. She was shaking with desire, her legs fidgeting on the comforter as she tried to capture any friction available. Not that it would ease her ache.
He pressed kisses across her ribs, his lips moving south as he hooked his fingers into her panties and dragged the soft cotton down her legs. He trailed his hands up the inside of her thighs, and she tensed when he reached where she wanted him most. The breath left her body as he massaged her clit with his finger, the pressure perfect, and she writhed against him, seeking everything he would give her, and begging for more.
“Oh yes,” she moaned as he kissed her trimmed curls, his tongue so close to where his finger played her like one of his perfectly tuned guitars.
His tongue reached her clit at the same moment he sank his finger inside of her, curling it at the perfect angle as her muscles clenched and her back arched off the bed.
He traced along her lower lips with his tongue, pressing against her clit again, and wiping all lucid thoughts from her mind as she gave into her need.
“Holy shit, yes,” she shouted as he sucked her clit, his tongue tracing, building up a need in her that she’d never experienced with anyone else. Fuck, he was good at this. She never wanted it to end.
She gripped his hair, holding his face to her body, her thighs tight against his head as she pulsed around him.
He crooked his finger one last time, and her desire coiled into a sharp point before she exploded around him, with no words but a whimpered sigh. Her back hit the bed, her body boneless, as she attempted to recover from the most powerful orgasm she’d ever had.
She took in a shuddering breath, letting go of his soft strands to sink a hand into her own hair. “You should end with that, because I don’t think I can move.”
He chuckled and slowly kissed up her quivering body. “I haven’t even gotten started yet,” he said, before locking his lips with hers.
“Why did we wait so long to get naked?”
He laughed, softly. Shit. That had been out loud. Not that she cared. She pulled him down on top of her, still trying to catch her breath. They never should’ve waited this long.
Fuck, she was stunning. And she was all his. He rolled, pulling her on top of him, and popped the clasp on her bra. They’d apparently missed that. He tossed the scrap of cotton away and traced her pebbled nipple with his thumb as she shuddered above him. Her breasts were just as beautiful as the rest of her, and the perfect handful.
He cupped her, raking his nails across her tight nipples, and she rocked her hips against his belly.
His cock was hard against her ass and aching for relief. She reached behind her, which was perfection as it thrust out her breasts and she gripped his cock through his boxer briefs.
He took in a sharp rush of air as she squeezed him, her thumb tracing over the tip.
“Take these off, now,” she ordered. He trailed his hands down her waist and cupped her gorgeous ass, giving her a quick squeeze before he raised his hips, and shucked his boxers down to his knees. He used his feet to push them the rest of the way, which caused her to jostle on top of him.
Best view ever.
Her hands dropped to his chest to keep herself upright, her soft laugh floating up between them. He couldn’t resist a taste, his tongue darting out to lick her nipple, and her laughter turned to a gasp as she leaned over him.
He drew her breast into his mouth, his tongue twirling around her nipple, sucking as she moaned above him, her hands back in his hair, scraping along his scalp.
“Oh god,” she murmured, as he gripped her ass, kneading her soft flesh and moving to her other breast, giving it identical treatment.
She arched her back, rubbing against his cock, and he needed to put them both out of their misery. He released her breast with a pop and she shivered against him.
“Find a condom now,” she bit out, still rocking against him, seeking that friction that he equally needed.
He reached toward the nightstand and pulled open the drawer with one hand, while he kept the other anchored to her ass, his thumb pressing into her hip, her breasts brushing against his lips in exquisite torture.
“A little help,” he huffed out.
She reached back and gripped his cock, rubbing along the tip with her thumb, and stroking her hand down his length.
“That’s not what I meant,” he gritted out, finally pulling a condom from the drawer and nudging it shut.
She lifted her ass and scooted back so his cock was now nestled against her lower lips, her desire enveloping him, and he bit back the urge to surge inside of her with nothing between them.
He groaned as she stroked him a few times, her fingers tightening around him, like he didn’t have enough pressure going on there already. He thrust into her hand, unable to stop his reaction, and she snatched the condom from his loose grip, tearing open the package with her teeth.
She leaned down and swirled her tongue over his tip, and his entire body narrowed with need.
“Next time,” he growled, grabbing the condom and rolling it down his cock.
“I wanted to do that,” she pouted, a dirty gleam in her eyes. Fuck. She would’ve taken her sweet time, and he would’ve expired before he ever made it inside her.
“Next time,” he repeated.
“Promises, promises,” she said, shifting back and raising up to take just the tip of him inside her. And then she stopped, holding herself above him.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked, gripping her hips and lifting his to meet in the middle. He sank in another inch.
“Just waiting to get interrupted, like always,” she said.
“That is not funny,” he growled.
She smirked and then lowered herself completely, taking him fully into her body, until her pelvis rubbed against his, the friction, both torture and a relief.
“Oh yes,” she moaned, rocking against him, finding a rhythm that matched his. She placed her hand on his lower belly, supporting herself as she rose until just the tip was in, and then plunged down again.
He gripped her hips, tilting her for an angle that left them both panting for more.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, when she rolled her hips, her inner muscles squeezing him. He wasn’t going to last long, but he refused to come before her. He gripped her hips, as she writhed on top of him, leaning over his body.
He traced her curves with one hand, her flesh shuddering beneath his wake as he touched every inch of her, then he lowered her down for a kiss. His tongue swept into her mouth, and her hands reached for his hair. Sinking in. Holding on. Her hips rising and falling as he met her thrust for thrust.
“I will never get enough of you,” he whispered against her lips when he broke the kiss.
“Yes,” she moaned against his mouth, and he wasn’t sure if he’d said too much. Logical thought had left the building as soon as the front door had shut behind them, and he wanted her to know just how much he wanted her. He wanted to give her everything she ever wanted.
She shifted and leaned back, her breasts high, her hand in her hair as she moaned. He’d commit this image to his memory. Holy fuck.
“Touch yourself,” he groaned.
She met his gaze, the heat in her eyes matching his. “What?”
“Show me how you like to be touched.”
“You don’t need instruction.” She gasped as he pulled her down again, seating himself to the hilt and rolling his hips to hit her just right.
He grinned. “Thanks for that, but I want to watch you touch yourself. Like you do at home. By yourself. Imagine I’m not here,” he gritted out as he pumped in and out of her.
She exhaled a laugh. “So not possible to imagine that right now,” she said, reaching down to scrape her nails over his nipples.
His abs tightened as she leaned forward, switching the angle, and he rubbed against her clit, creating the friction they both craved.
He let go of her ass, and gripped her hands, pushing her up so she was fully astride.
“If you ever need help with push-ups like that, count me in,” she said, her voice breathy.
His chuckle was strained as he watched her fingers trail down her body, his own body a tightly wrapped coil threatening to burst. Her fingers fluttered across her belly, and she paused just above her clit.
“Don’t you dare stop,” he growled, knowing how much she loved when he did that. Fuck. He’d growl for her 24/7 if it meant watching her touch herself and surrender to her bliss.
She gave him a wink before finally reaching her target. Her muscles clenched around his cock, milking him, as a moan escaped her lips.
He sat up on his elbows, his gaze locked to where they were joined, where he could see her fingers pressing circles over her clit.
He’d never watched anything as beautiful. Her flush spread across every inch of her body, her moans merging to pants as she pressed harder. He reached over to grab a pillow to prop his head up, and then anchored his hands on her hips again, thrusting into her, controlling their movements as she lost her rhythm.
Expletives slipped through his lips as he watched her rotate her hips, her finger never leaving her clit. His control threatened to slip as each moan grew in volume. This. This is what he would commit to memory.
She nibbled on her lower lip and met his gaze, her eyes glittering in the low light, her other hand dropping from her hair to her breast, squeezing the supple flesh as her thumb raked across her nipple, and she groaned low and long.
“Yes,” he urged, as she broke eye contact and arched her back, her fingers still moving, her muscles spasming around him. He thrust into her one last time and she exploded around him with a cry.
He quickly followed her over the edge. It was a leap he had no problem making, and as they floated back, and she dropped down to his chest, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, and tucked her in close.
“Oh my god, Ben. As soon as I can feel my toes, we are so doing that again,” she panted.
“Promises, promises.” His voice was just as husky as hers.
This was what he’d waited for. And it’d been worth every interruption, every false start they’d had to get to this moment. He wasn’t going to let it—or her—go anytime soon.