Page 63 of Falling for the Orc All-Star

I switch sides, tusks scraping across the melon-sized breasts I’m devouring. “These are my third favorite things to kiss on you,” I sigh.

“What’s first?”

“Your mouth. Then your sweet pussy. Then these. These are paradise. All of you is paradise. And better.” I hug her right, too tight, stealing her breath.

“What’s better than paradise?” Ingrid gasps. She fights for breath when I release her, and her pussy holds over my tip, then slowly sinks down.

The noise she makes when she stretches around me, the struggling, lustful grunt... It's a heady, heavy sound, a sound that makes me wish for two good legs so I could stand behind her, bend her over, and sink into her until my knot disappears, trapped in her spasming heat.

I can’t think straight, but sometimes my best answers come from not being able to think straight. “Having you in my life. Having you in my arms, sharing all the little things with you. Sex feels incredible physically, but knowing you run to my arms when you need me is even better. Do you get that? You, being in my life, is like the best thing I’ve ever felt.” I lean back and look up at her.

She’s so fucking gorgeous, naked and wet like this, riding me, moaning on me...

But I’m equally excited about going home and trying to make something to take to Kev and Marina, equally excited to think about her curling up under my arm while the dogs sit on my lap like overgrown puppies.

Ingrid’s eyes open, and she sees me gazing up at her, worshipping her. “The paramedics called Kevin her rock. I lost my rock a long time ago when my parents split up. When careers took my family around the world and made me wonder if I was left behind.”

“I’ll try so hard to be your rock, baby,” I whisper, letting the weightlessness of the water propel me up into her, letting me carry her effortlessly, slotting us together deeper than before.

Her eyes are shining. She glows. My star.

“You’re not my rock. You’re my mountain. Bigger. Stronger. Safer. And a little harder to climb,” she ends her beautiful speech with a giggle.

I didn’t know you could fall in love with someone more each time you see them. I thought love was the destination, and when you got there, that was it. That was love.

With Ingrid, it’s better. Always pulling me higher, showing me it changes, gets deeper, that there’s more.

“You’re my star. Always making me reach higher. And the mountain and the star, they could touch one day,” I whisper, not caring if that’s poetic nonsense or just crazy talk.

Ingrid bites her lip, and her head rolls back, long, wavy brunette hair kissing the water. My fingers fly over her clit as I bury my tip inside and my face between her breasts, sighing when I feel her come apart around me.

Chapter Twenty: Routine

“It’s Wednesday. Do you have practice?”

Ingrid uses an old paper and pen calendar as well as the one on her phone. “I thought I shared the schedule with you. Here, mark down all the days in red. The ones in white are away. The ones in green are free days.”

I slide her my phone, and she beams at me. “What?”

“Some men don’t hand women their phones so trustingly.”

“But I trust you.” I nibble her ear and pull her closer. Tonight marks two weeks since my accident, and a week of settling into a routine with my girlfriend. I call her that in my videos—I make them at every practice. At the dog park. At the senior apartments. At the coffee shop. Almost every video begins with, “My gorgeous girlfriend and I are...” And then I tell people about how awesome people in Pine Ridge are, or how awesome my teammates are.

All I’m doing is saying what I’m seeing, but because I have a number on my back and can get a puck past a goalie, people get excited about it.

“Stop eating me, we have all that leftover spanakopita from the Angelakises,” Ingrid giggles and scrolls through my team schedule.

She’s writing my practices and doctor’s appointments in her phone and on her calendar. We’re adding things in on both of our schedules, like when people are dropping off meals to my house, when we’re visiting at Hilltop, and when we have home games.

“Want me to heat it up? Did I remember to bring it over?” I ask and limp to the fridge. This Saturday night, we’re free. My team is away in Cleveland, and so I’m at Ingrid’s house. On nights when I’m expecting meals, we’re at mine.

“Yeah, put it in the oven. Oh, and can you turn the coffee maker on?”

“You want coffee? This late? Ooh. Does someone need energy?” I tease.

Ingrid gives me a long look. “I filled the reservoir with water. I just want it hot for my tea.” She points to a pretty little canister on her counter.

My mouth dries out, and my cock springs up. “Okay. Tea. H-how often have you been having this?”