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S he’s begging me to fuck her.

Meanwhile I’m basically fucking the mattress.

I mean—twist my arm. What guy wouldn’t rather dump his load inside a pretty woman than on the duvet cover of his bed?

I’m flat on my back in the middle of my California king, condom on the pillow next to my head, and Austin's tits beckoning from above.

I cup them and play with her nipples, cock stiff, pressing into her ass crack as she rests on my stomach, pussy slowly gyrating in slow circles.

It’s taking every ounce of self-control I possess not to bury myself inside her— I feel like I’m losing my mind.

I lower my hands, pressing my thumb into her clit in small circles and she leans back to give me more access…

Her body is perfect for me.

Nice boobs.

Soft stomach.

An ass I want to pump into from behind, knowing I won’t snap her like a twig.

Austin leans forward, pressing a hand against my headboard and gripping it, raising herself above me…lining my dick up be tween her pussy and moving back and forth without taking me inside her.

It’s torture.

She’s practically panting.

“I could come like this.” She lets out a whimper. “I love your dick so much.”

Her hair falls over her shoulders, covering her nipples the briefest of moments and my fingers brush it back so I can look my fill.

I toy with her boobs as if they were my playthings …

Her breath hitches when I roll her nipples between my fingers, her hips stuttering in their rhythm.

“Jesus,” I rasp, my voice thick with need to thrust. My head falls back against the pillow as I stare up at her, chest heaving. “You’re killing me.”

Her head rolls to the side.

“I can’t stand it anymore.”

Neither can I.

The tension snaps, sharp and electric. My hand shoots out, grabbing the condom from the pillow beside me. The wrapper crinkles as I tear it open, my hands shaking just enough to slow me down.

“Hold on,” I mutter, reaching around Austin’s body to fumble with the condom, my fingers brushing against her soft, warm skin as I try to steady myself. “Shit.”

“Here, let me,” she whispers, her fingers pushing mine aside to take over. She rolls the condom over me with a deliberate slowness that has my teeth clenching and my vision blurring.

Sex brain.

That’s what this is .

Pure, primal, animalistic need overriding every logical thought in my head.

The desperation to fuck her.

Our contact is a spark to dry tinder.

My breath hitches as she sinks down, taking me inch by agonizing inch. The feeling is indescribable, her warm pussy, the tightness, the way her body molds to mine.

A groan rumbles in my chest, raw and guttural. “Holy fuck.”

So good.

Her head tilts back, a soft cry escaping her lips as her body adjusts to mine. For a moment, everything stills—the world narrowing to just this: her warmth surrounding me, her hands braced on my chest.

One gasp.

Another.

Austin lets out a mew and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard come out of another person and it drives me to the brink.

I moan so loud I’ll be embarrassed about it later.

“You like that?” she asks. It’s obviously a rhetorical question because obviously I fucking like it.

Am I a man?

“God, yes,” I groan, my head falling back against the pillow as I surrender completely. “Don’t stop.”

I swear to God I’m half in love.

Sex drunk.

That’s what this is….

My thighs begin shaking as she rides me, the pressure in my balls building to the point I feel out of control.

My body shakes.

Sweat builds on my forehead.

Her hand pushes against the headboard…bearing down…deeper…I’m buried to the hilt…moans…

For the briefest moment I wish I was back in college, in a cheap double bed with a cheap headboard, so we’d hear the sound of the headboard slamming against the wall—and so neighbors would hear us fucking.

I come to that thought .

My body jolts as a guttural moan tears from my throat, and I come hard, spilling into the condom. The release is blinding, my grip on her hips tightening as I ride the wave, every muscle in my body tensing and then giving way all at once.

Then.

Several seconds later Austin comes, too, lowering herself and burying her face in the crook of my neck. Her breath is warm, her skin slick against mine, and the weight of her feels perfect.

My arms go around her, pulling her close, holding her as her body relaxes into mine.

Neither of us speaks.

We don’t need to.

“Are you awake, too?”

Her voice breaks the stillness of the dark, soft and hesitant, carrying across the quiet space between us. My eyes open, and I turn my head toward her.

I shift my arm beneath the covers, sliding it closer until my fingers find hers. Her hand tightens around mine, and the small gesture feels like an invitation. I take it, rolling onto my side to face her.

Raising my other arm, I glance at the watch on my wrist. The faint glow of the dial reads three.

“Yeah,” I whisper back, my voice low, barely louder than hers.

“Can’t sleep.”

The bed shifts as she mirrors my movement, turning onto her side and curling her body toward mine. I feel the faint brush of her breath against my shoulder, warm and steady.

We lie there for a while, our hands tangled beneath the covers. The silence isn’t heavy—it feels peaceful, like we’re sharing something unspoken. Her breathing slows and deepens, and I wonder if she’s drifted off.

Just as my own eyes start to close, her voice breaks the quiet again, soft and unexpected .

“Tonight was the most fun I’ve had in forever.”

I smile into the dark. “Same.”

“I still can’t believe you talked the guy into letting you drive the Zamboni,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

I chuckle, the memory fresh and vivid. “It wasn’t that hard. You just have to find the right bribe.”

Cash.

“I’ve never been in an ice rink with no people. It was surreal.”

It was.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice softer now. “It’s not often we’re in there alone. There’s always a crowd—teammates, coaches, someone. But tonight…” I trail off, letting the memory fill the space between us.

“Tonight, it was ours,” she finishes.

I tilt her chin up with my fingers, just enough to find her lips in the dark. The kiss is slow, tender, the kind that says all the things we don’t have to say out loud.

When we pull back, she doesn’t move far, her forehead resting against mine. Her breath is warm, mingling with mine, and for a moment, I think the night can’t get better.

Then she speaks.

“You know what the best part of tonight was?”

“Obviously the Zamboni,” I tease, the corners of my mouth tugging upward.

She laughs, soft and genuine, and her hand playfully smacks against my chest.

“No,” she says, her tone light but steady. “The best part was you. Just being with you.”

The words hit me harder than I expect, settling deep in a place I don’t think I’ve let anyone reach before. I don’t answer right away because I’m not sure I can. So instead, I pull her closer, wrapping my arms around her as though that will somehow show her what I can’t quite put into words.

We kiss again, her hands caressing my chest, the light touch skimming my pecs. Fingers trail over my flesh, giving me goosebumps.

I can’t help but move, rolling us so I’m over her, bracing myself on my forearms as I lean down. My lips already know the shape of her body in the dark…the curve of her shoulder…the dip of her clavicle.

It’s a map I’ve memorized without even realizing it.

“You’re beautiful,” I tell the darkness.

And yeah—my cock is stiff, so what?

Her hands slide down my back, fingertips tracing the lines of my thick muscles—when she leans toward the side table, her hands fumbling to find the drawer, I know she’s going to thank me for the compliment by fucking me.

A slow…

Lazy…

Fuck.