Tripping (Iced #2) - Kristine Allen Page 0,75
whispered in a tight voice. His rasped instructions made me realize I’d been holding my breath.
Body tense and lips parted, I’d braced for the explosion of the century, uncaring of my need for oxygen. I’d been hyperfocused on clutching to the waves of pleasure at the detriment of basic bodily needs. As I inhaled deeply, my head spun and the sensations continued, leaving me awash in satiation and floating in a languid pool of pleasure.
“On the bed,” he instructed, and I obeyed. When I fell facedown on the pillow, he deftly rolled me over. “I want to see your face when I come, and I want you to come with me.”
A kiss, complete with tangling tongues and needy nips, distracted me until he again stretched me as he entered my body. Perfect. That was the word I’d use to describe the feel of him buried deep within me. My legs instinctively wrapped around him, and he hissed as he thrust hard.
Every movement of our bodies had my brain scrambled. He slowed as our mouths teased each other. His teeth grazed my collarbone and up my neck. Resting on his elbows, his slid his arms under me and curled his hands over my shoulders. As he dove deep, his hold kept me in place. Our sweat-soaked skin glided sensually with each stroke.
“Oh God, Cameron,” I said with a shocked breathy whimper. “I’m going to come again. Holy shit. I’m going to come again!”
“Yes,” he insisted as he continued to fuck me. “Come on my cock. Fuck, yes. Hurry, baby.”
His urging coupled with the perfect way we fit together had me bursting as my sheath tightened around him and pulsed in almost violent spasms. My nails dug into his back as I hung on for dear life.
He only made a few more thrusts of his hips before he was seated deep inside and went still. A feral groan accompanied the tensing of his body above mine and the pulsing of his cock against my walls as we fell over the edge together.
An indeterminable time later, he slipped out, and I whimpered at the loss. He pressed a kiss over my heart and quietly went into his bathroom. I heard the water running before he came back with a warm cloth. His gentle motions as he cleaned me had me gazing lovingly at him. He was so intent on his task that he had no idea I studied him.
For such a big and powerful man to be so caring did funny things to my insides. The ripple of his muscles with each movement made him a work of art. The tattoos covering his arm, shoulder, and chest were mesmerizing. He was beautiful. Both to look at and on the inside. He tossed the washcloth into the bathroom and crawled back in the bed.
Moving me like I was no more than a rag doll, he tucked my back into his front.
“You know I have to work in the morning,” I said as my eyes grew heavy.
“Mmhm,” he replied. “You have your alarm set?”
“Yes, but my phone is in the pocket of my jeans on the floor,” I said with a tired sigh.
“I’ll hear it. Go to sleep,” he muttered as he nuzzled into my shoulder. Wrapped up in a warm cocoon of Cameron, I drifted off—secure and warm.
And happily in love.
“Anna”—Stone Sour
It had been a week since Bleu and I had worked our shit out. I’d been lucky that I’d been home for five days after that. Now we were in the middle of a three-game road trip. We had won the first game by a pretty decent spread against Carolina. We were playing Boston tonight, had tomorrow off, then St. Louis.
Bleu would be joining me in St. Louis Friday night so she could be there for Saturday’s game. We’d come to a compromise, and I finally got it through to her that I wasn’t trying to throw my money or influence around. She accepted it and agreed that she could rearrange her lesson schedule if she had time to plan.
“Cam!” Kris shouted as he motioned for me get into position. Dodging Boston’s Brett Davis as he tried to block me, I spun around and watched the puck. A few more seconds that seemed like minutes, and the biscuit hit my stick. Handling it closely, I darted to the side, passed briefly to Alex, then I had it back and took my shot.
The puck shot through the air and went through the sieve tender’s