Page 15 of Her Hat Trick Daddies (Game On Daddies #3)

His hand slides up under my skirt, fingers curling around the waistband of my thong, a soft cotton pair printed with a rose.

Sweet. Innocent. Completely at odds with what’s unraveling between us right now.

He peels them down and off, then lifts them to his face without hesitation, breathing me in like he’s getting high off the scent. Like I’m his favorite addiction.

My fingers yank his thermal up and over his head, feeding my hormones a five-course feast. Every inch of him is a goddamn masterpiece cut from granite, all sculpted muscle and carved abs that flex with every breath, every move.

Those sharp cheekbones, those filthy, fuck-me lips, the lazy smolder in his brown eyes.

But it’s the ink that makes my heart stutter.

Blue and orange hockey stick tattoos. And just like that.

Game. Fucking. Over.

Whatever shred of denial I had left, whatever fantasy that this could be some reckless, anonymous fling, gets torn apart and fed to the wolves. Because it’s him.

David Decker. Star center forward. Captain of the Colorado Avs. Lion.

Right here in front of me, shirtless and sin incarnate.

But we don’t exactly have time for a dramatic reveal or a teary monologue, because he’s already bunching my skirt at my waist and dragging his tongue through my soaking folds like he’s dying of thirst. I bite down hard on my bottom lip to keep from screaming.

God help me, if I moan out loud, we're done for. Even in this tucked-away room, screaming David’s name at the break of an orgasm would be a hell of a way to get noticed.

Not that he gives a damn. He nips at my slit, then licks a bold stripe up to my clit, ending with a cocky flick like he owns my pleasure. And right now, he does .

“You're gonna get us caught,” I grit out, voice strained with restraint.

He glances up from between my thighs, eyes gleaming, beard damp, grin absolutely sinister. “Then be a good girl and stay quiet.”

“I can’t,” I whisper-yell, fingers clutching the edge of the desk.

His smirk deepens, filthy and unrepentant. He circles his tongue slowly over my clit, savoring every reaction and tremble from my body. “Mmm. That sounds like a challenge.”

"A challenge?"

“The faster I lick, suck, and devour this sweet pussy—” he punctuates it with a quick swirl of his tongue, “—the quieter you have to be.”

"Hardly fai—uhhn." The words dissolve on my tongue.

I scramble, frantically patting the desk until my hand smacks a remote.

I snatch it up, fumbling until the TV’s volume blasts louder, just enough to cover the sounds I know I won’t be able to hold back.

There's no way I can stay quiet. Not with him. Not after all this time. I haven’t been touched by a man in years.

I’ve been too busy busting my ass as a single mom to even think about letting someone in.

And now, knowing he’s one of the men I never stopped thinking about, I can finally let go.

Without warning, he thrusts two fingers deep inside me, his mouth latching onto my clit and biting down harder. I come apart instantly, a helpless, gasping wreck, my cries bubbling out no matter how hard I try to bite them back.

A needy mewl escapes me as I shudder beneath his torturous movements. “God, what are you doing to me?”

He groans into my folds. “Exactly what you came here for." Then, he lifts his gaze, eyes burning. "And sweetheart, right now, I'm the only god you're praying to."

As soon as my release starts pouring out, he pulls back, rising to his feet, but he doesn’t stop.

His fingers keep working me open, dragging out every last tremor as I writhe and babble, no longer capable of words, only need.

He refuses to let up until my legs are useless beneath me.

I squirt in messy, wet streams, soaking the desk and splattering across his chest.

“That’s it. Come for me,” he growls. “Soak me. Show me just how bad you needed this.”

He grabs one of my feet, sliding off my stiletto with excruciating slowness. “These pumps drive me fucking crazy,” her murmurs, voice dark velvet. “The second I saw you in them, I started imaging all the ways I wanted to fuck you in them.”

He lifts my bare foot, presses it into the cum on his chest, smearing it across his skin, like he wants to wear me. His eyes stay locked on mine as he sucks two of my toes into his mouth, his tongue curling around them, groaning like I’ve just fed him heaven.

“My favorite kind of mess,” he rasps, sliding the heel back on with a possessive tug. “Turn around. ”

I follow his command, trembling, but eager.

He grabs my hips, spreads me open, and bends me over the desk like I belong there. Then, a hard smack lands on my ass, making me jolt.

“Loud, needy, dripping wet. You wanted them to hear you, didn’t you?” he taunts, pressing his length against me. “You wanted to be caught getting wrecked.”

Before I can answer, he shoves his pants down, grips my waist, and plunges his cock into me in one brutal thrust. I gasp, nails clawing at the desk as he fills me, stretches me, owns me.

“You’re mine now,” he growls, hips snapping hard. “And I’m not stopping until you forget anyone else ever touched you.”

“All yours,” I huff between thrusts.

He drives into me hard with relentless, punishing strokes that knock the breath out of my lungs with every snap, like he has been starving for this and finally gets to feast.

I try to stay upright, but my heels are sliding, his feral rhythm stealing my balance, my sanity.

“Oh my god,” I gasp, my pussy tightening around him.

“Uh-uh.” He leans in, voice rough silk, breath searing against my hear. “Not god. David.” Another smack lands on my ass.

He sounds possessive, primal, like his name alone is a brand he’s burning into me.

“ Harder , David,” I breathe.

He snarls low in his throat, slaps my ass again, and hooks one of my legs up onto the desk, forcing me open for him.

He thrusts deeper, his cock slamming into that perfect spot again and again, pushing me closer, pulling desperate cries from my throat.

I gasp, gripping the edge of the desk as I clench around him, the sudden pressure igniting fireworks behind my eyes.

“Come for me again,” he demands. “Let me feel it. Let me have all of you.”

I fall apart with a scream, my entire body shaking, gushing around him as he grits out a curse and finally lets go. He pulls out fast, stroking once, twice—then thick, hot streams paint across my calves, my ankles, my heels, his moans broken and raw like I just ruined him from the inside out.

He stares down at the mess, watching it drip along my skin with a savage kind of pride. “Fuck… look what you do to me.”

The moment lingers—

Until my phone blares, slicing through the sex-heavy air like a buzz saw.

Cursing under my breath, I rush to the chair where my purse is and dig through it. By the time I find my phone, Wilson’s call is seconds from going to voicemail.

“Wilson!” I chirp, trying to sound halfway normal.

“I’m here. Where are you? We were supposed to prep some observations for the next game.”

Right. Work.

“Running a little behind,” I manage, catching sight of the glistening cum painting my skin. “Be right there.”

“Okay. See you soon. ”

David’s phone buzzes next, cutting through the last thread of stolen time between us.

I don’t know how the hell to feel about what just happened. My body’s wrecked, my head’s spinning, and my heart is hammering out of my chest.

But one thing’s absolutely crystal fucking clear. David Decker is Lion.

And now? I need to find out if the men I know as Jester and Wolf are here, too.