The Revenge Pact (Kings of Football #1) - Ilsa Madden-Mills Page 0,105
is it for us.
“Don’t think about that,” he murmurs quietly.
I nod.
“The view of the stars is incredible,” he says. “It’s quiet and peaceful, with just the wind in your face and the snow under your feet.”
“Lead the way.”
I’m in this with him, all the way, no matter how it ends…
26
No underwear. Dammit. I drape a fluffy white hotel towel around my waist and open the bathroom door. Anastasia left earlier to pop into Lila and Colette’s room. Before that, we spent two hours on the slopes, had dinner in the restaurant, then came back up to the room.
It’s one of the penthouse suites with a huge king-sized bed, a living room and fireplace, even a kitchen. I won’t get to enjoy it, but I paid for her to stay here while I’m gone.
I blink at the darkness, adjusting my eyes. Water dripping, I make my way to where the light switch is, then pause when I hear “Iris” start playing on the speakers in the room.
I turn around and see her, silhouetted against the big window that overlooks the mountains.
“You’re back?” I say inanely. “I mean, yeah, of course you are.”
“Mhmm,” she says over the soft music.
My chest rises as I take her in, the blood in my veins rushing.
Half in shadow, half lit from the flames in the fireplace, she’s wearing my hoodie from the night on the rooftop. Her back is to me as she sways to the music, her hands in her hair as she lifts it up.
My heart catches as she turns around slowly, eyes on me as she slips one shoulder out of the unzipped jacket. She’s wearing nothing underneath it, yet my gaze eats up her face, the curve of her cheek, the arch of her eyebrows, the curl of her red lips. I love her. Her. It’s not about the sex, although that’s going to be out of this fucking world; no, it’s about who she is.
She knows how to move, this girl. She plays with the collar of the hoodie then releases it with her fingers, slipping her shoulder out of the other arm. She holds it in front of her, easing it down, revealing her breasts, the slope of her hips, the skin of her thighs.
My hands clench.
“Baby…” My voice is gruff, layered in emotion. Never seen her completely naked, and she is drop-dead gorgeous.
“You wanted to look,” she says as she drops the hoodie and does a twirl in front of me, and I groan when I see her lush ass, that indentation at the bottom of her spine, the spot where I want to put my tongue.
The song plays softly, and I walk to her, need spiking. I turn her around and cup her face. My thumbs skate over her cheeks, my fingers diving into her hair as I bring her forward and kiss her. It’s a dirty kiss, open-mouthed and erotic and deep. I want to consume her, fuck her, love her. Her tongue tangles with mine, then her teeth tug on my bottom lip. My hands lift her up and hold her as her legs wrap around my waist.
“That was a short striptease, and I was going to give you a blow job.” She laughs against my lips as I fall back onto the bed with her on top of me.
“Later.” I flip us over and stare down at her. Her lavender hair splays out behind her, and her green eyes shine in the dim light.
“Hmmm, I thought about surprising you in the shower, but since I wanted to be good, I thought we’d do your fantasy first.” She runs her hands through my hair and sighs. Her touch wanders to my face. “I love your hair. Your eyes. These lips. I’m ready for the magic,” she murmurs. “Wow me with your vast skills.”
I huff out a laugh. “No pressure at all.”
We’ve had the safe sex talk. I’m clean from a football physical and have always used a condom. She’s had a recent checkup and is on the pill.
“Let me touch you like I’ve been thinking about,” I say softly.
I scoot her up to the pillows and hover over her as I whip my towel off and place my knees on either side of her. Long hair, expressive eyes, dark lashes, full breasts with dusky nipples, the long legs, the V between her legs, the one I’ve already tasted and can’t get out of my head.