Killian (On the Line #1) - Brenda Rothert Page 0,44
made me feel like a clingy girlfriend trying to speed things along.
Killian: Be in the kitchen making pancakes in something lacy and revealing. I’ll make it worth your while.
My anxiety over the word mishap faded in an instant. Now I just felt an intense need to get home and change into some of the new lingerie I’d ordered. The lacy red bra and panties with garters would be perfect.
I’d never felt so feminine and desirable. When he held my hands hostage during sex, I was at his mercy. Since I was accustomed to asserting myself during sex to make sure I got mine, this was a new sensation. He knew exactly how long I could stand it slow and deep, and when I needed it hard and fast. He knew how to touch me so I came longer and harder than I ever had.
Sexually he made me feel very safe and, slowly, I was testing the waters by starting to talk dirty back to him. It was a first for me, but it turned me on as much as it did him. I trusted him completely and I was quickly coming to a place where nothing was off limits.
I smiled as I remembered that first meeting with my reckless team captain. Things had changed a lot since then. I only hoped this unyielding passion was something that could be sustained.
Killian
Once the game was over, I sat on the bench in the locker room and listened as Orion and Bruce unleashed the fury they’d been holding in for the past three hours. The raked everyone over the coals and I couldn’t blame them—for the most part, everyone had played like shit. When they were finally finished, I showered and changed and got the hell out. I didn’t want to spend another second with these assholes. All I could think about was forgetting the whole shitty mess with my head between Sid’s legs.
I jogged up to her front door just as she was trying to unlock it while balancing a paper sack of groceries on her hip.
“Here,” I said, taking the bag and keys from her. “Let me do this.”
Her face fell. “I was hoping you’d take a bit longer. I had to stop for pancake mix and syrup.”
My heart tugged with happiness.
“You didn’t have to do that. And it doesn’t matter what I said in that text message. I’m just glad to be here.”
“I know.” Her cheeks pinked a little. “But I wanted to. That thing about working out your frustration . . . I liked the sound of it.”
I turned the key and pushed the door open, allowing her to enter first. I followed, closing the door and setting the sack of groceries on the table at the front door.
“Hey,” I said, reaching for her hand and pulling her toward me. “I’m still plenty frustrated.”
She smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” I helped her slide out of her wool coat and tossed it on top of chair. “Get on your knees.”
She dropped to the ground and gave me a hungry, pleading look.
“Suck my cock, baby,” I said, unzipping my suit pants and sliding the button open. She nodded compliantly, her eyes widening when I slid my boxers down and my cock stood at full attention in her face.
I wound my fingers into her hair and pulled lightly, tipping her face up toward me.
“Suck it good and I’ll fuck you,” I said. “Start with my balls.”
She opened her mouth eagerly, wrapping her hand around my shaft and flattening her tongue to lick my balls. The warm, wet caress made me grit my teeth and groan. When she took my whole sack into her mouth, I tightened my hold on her hair.
“Goddamn, baby,” I ground out. “That’s fucking good. Yeah, suck my balls hard. Get your spit all over me.”
She sucked and licked and I groaned at the building ache in my balls. Just the sight of her, down on her knees pleasing me, was enough to do me in. I was dying for her to put my cock in her mouth when I realized why she hadn’t. She was waiting for me to tell her to.
So fucking hot. This powerful, confident woman wasn’t just letting me take sexual control of her—she wanted me to.
“Now my cock,” I said, tugging on her hair to pull her mouth away from my balls.
She descended on me, taking me so deep I felt the back of her throat against the tip of my dick.
“Ah, yeah.