Page 9 of Hockey Halloween

Ford

The second we’re inside her apartment Willa pushes the door closed and grabs the front of my jacket, pulling me in. We’re pressed together, chest to chest, breath to breath. Her gaze burns into mine, full of the same want that’s been clawing at me since the moment we left the club.

“You sure?” I ask, my voice low.

“More than sure.”

I don’t need to hear it twice, backing her toward the living room as my fingers find the edge of her costume. The fabric of the mummy dress clings to her luscious curves, and I can’t wait to see every inch of her without it.

“You have no idea,” I murmur against her mouth, “how much I’ve wanted to unwrap you.”

She laughs, breathy and low, the sound shooting straight to my hardening cock. I bite my lip, peeling away the first strip of gauze from her body. Then another. And another.

She stands still, trusting me, letting me take my time. Which I do, because she’s breathtaking and worthy of all the attention.

Every layer I remove reveals more of her—lush skin, soft dips and swells, strong thighs, the slope of her belly, the curve of her full hips.

Trailing my palms down her naked sides and over her waist, I memorize her shape.

She shivers when I brush the outside of her thigh.

The small, breathy sound she makes next nearly undoes me.

“Goddamn, Willa,” I whisper, stepping back to drink her in. “You’re unreal. Every inch of you. Your thighs. Your hips. That gorgeous belly. These perfect breasts—” I trace the curves of her chest with my thumbs. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more.”

“I love hearing that.” She grabs the front of my shirt, voice rough with want. “Now you. Take it off.”

Stripping quickly, I shrug out of my jacket and shirt in one motion. Her gaze follows my movements, sharp and steady, cataloging every detail. Hooking my thumbs into the waistband of my pants, I push them and my briefs down. She doesn’t shy away, her appraisal dragging over my bare body.

“Holy shit,” she murmurs, half to herself. “You’re—” Her words trail off, the glimmer in her eyes portraying everything. It’s caught somewhere between the urge to stare and the need to reach for me. Maybe both.

Letting her take me in without hurry, her expression shifts. It’s not only desire, but awe. She licks her lips. “I’ve spent so long convincing myself someone like you didn’t exist…now you’re here and I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Yeah?” I ask, stepping closer. “That good?”

She meets my gaze, cheeks flushed. “Better.”

That single word lights a fire low in my gut.

Sliding my hands down her thighs, I lift her effortlessly and carry her to the couch.

She spreads her legs, her breath hitching when my fingers brush her center.

She’s soaked, all warm and ready for me.

The sound she makes when I slide one finger inside her is pure need, a mix of a gasp and a moan, going straight to my spine.

“Look at you,” I rasp, curling my finger gently, drawing another gasp from her lips. “So wet and needy for my touch.”

She arches toward me, fumbling for my rock solid cock. I’m already having a hard time controlling my reaction to her, and when she wraps her delicate hand around my hardening length, I nearly lose it right then.

“Fuck, Willa,” I breathe as I thrust another finger inside her, feeling her pulse around me. “If you keep touching me, this is going to be over before we even get started.”

“Then we’ll try again. We have all night.”

She strokes me with a rhythm that matches my fingers working her over.

Her thighs tremble with pleasure as I dip my digits in and out of her.

My vision swims feeling her touch wrapped around me, thinking about how amazing she’ll feel taking me inside of her tightness.

Summoning strength I didn’t think I had, I tear my hand away and turn to kiss her hard, desperate to regain control of myself.

“I want to be inside you when I come for the first time,” I groan, breath fanning against her lips. “I want you to ride me and take every inch I give you.”

Her breath catches, and she nods, dark eyes locked on mine. “Condom?”

I reach into my discarded pants, heart pounding. Opening my wallet, I find the foil packet one of my teammates gave me on our way to the club.

“Thank fuck for this,” I mutter.

She laughs, a deep, throaty sound that I swear I’ll hear in my dreams for weeks. After I roll the protection on, I sit on the couch, motioning her closer. She swings a leg over me, straddling my lap with a confidence that makes me dizzy.

Her thighs bracket mine, warm and solid and so fucking perfect. Her hands settle on my shoulders, anchoring herself as she slowly sinks down onto me.

I groan, head falling back. “Fuck, Willa. Just like that.”

Feeling her this way, all wrapped around me, makes me wonder how I ever went this long without her.

My hands find her hips, then slide up her waist, fingers splayed wide to hold onto her as she begins to move.

Each roll of her body sends fire up my spine.

Her skin’s flushed, lips parted in pleasure.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I press my mouth to the slope of her breast, tasting the salt of her skin and the sweetness of the moment. “You also feel like heaven.”

Her voice cracks with wonder. “And you fill me up so good, Nolan.”

Her fingers tangle in my hair as she kisses me, desperate and messy. So damn perfect . She moves with purpose now, chasing something we both want to find.

“I’m so close,” she breathes, forehead pressed to mine.

“Let go for me,” I rasp, tightening my grip on her hips. “I’ve got you.”

She shatters in my arms a heartbeat later, her body clenching around me, breath caught in a silent cry that breaks open seconds later in a guttural moan that undoes me.

I follow with a groan, hips jerking up as the pleasure slams into me, hot and consuming. It steals my breath, hollows me out and fills me all at once. I hold on to her, not letting go.

She rests her forehead to my shoulder, her breath warm and unsteady on my skin. Post-orgasm trembles still work through her limbs as I wrap my arms around her, pulling her tight, anchoring us both in the afterglow. We stay tangled together, slick with sweat.

“Holy shit,” she mutters, voice muffled against my shoulder. “Is it always that intense with you?”

I kiss the crown of her head, still trying to catch my breath. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

She tilts her head, hair sticking to her damp cheek, eyes glassy and wide. “Because if it is,” she murmurs, “I might never let you go.”

Her words hit me hard as I brush her hair with my fingertips. “You might be stuck with me, then.”

She shifts slightly, still wrapped around me, then presses a soft kiss below my jaw. And I’m right where I’m meant to be. The way we fit is inevitable.