Page 40 of Like a Power Play (Greenrock University: Icebound #1)

I’m a fucking liar. A desperate liar, by the way, because never in my life have I been turned on by a threat.

Not until now. And even with the nervous pound of my heart, part of me wants to find out if Darcy’s the type to follow through on her promises.

Her fingers continue pumping, in and out, the sound stretching to fill every corner of the room as I whimper as silently as I can manage against her lips, arching my back in desperation.

She sucks my earlobe between the cut of her teeth as her hand continues thrusting. Her breath brushes against the shell of my ear as she whispers, “Do you like that, Pretty Girl?”

“Oh fuck!”

Shit.

Darcy stops. Her hand. Her breath. I swear, even the pulse between us stops too. I suck in a shaky breath.

“Sorry,” I say quickly, body still writhing, desperate for friction.

My hips roll against her hand, doing all the work, because if that’s what it takes to come undone, then god, I’ll fucking do it.

Anything, anything at all to cure the ache thrumming between my thighs.

Anything to be wrecked by her hands the same way time wrecks plans.

Relentlessly.

Darcy lets out an annoyed sigh, but before I can apologize, beg her to continue because—shit, I have no dignity left so what the hell?—a warm flesh presses to my mouth. It's smooth and supple. Warm.

“If you’re that loud again, we’re going to have to stop,” she says, and my tongue begins tracing her nipple, sucking gently. She moans. “Do you want to stop?”

My mouth parts with her skin only to respond. “No,” I breathe. “No, please don’t stop.”

“Then control yourself,” she orders, pressing her supple tit back into my mouth, the taste of her warm and sweet, slightly salty from our time on the ice.

My hips continue their needy rhythm against her hand, the slick heat between my thighs making the glide effortless.

I can feel the subtle shift of her fingers, the way they press and stroke, and the knowledge that she’s controlling this, that she’s holding back, sends a wave of frustrated heat through me.

“Darcy,” I murmur against her chest I want her to push me over the edge, to wring me dry, but she holds back, teasing, tormenting. Her fingers slide deeper, stretching me, filling me, and I gasp against her skin.

I am excruciatingly desperate.

“I like watching you like this,” she whispers.

Then she picks up speed. “Needy. Begging.” Each stroke is calculated, each brush against my clit with her thumb an intentional tease.

Pressure builds in my gut, a tight, throbbing ache that spreads through my entire body.

“Listening, for once, like a good fucking girl.”

Holy fuck.

I press my mouth harder against her breast, silencing the whimpers that threaten to escape.

My teeth sink into her skin, and she winces slightly, but she doesn’t slow down.

I feel the pulse of her heart against my lips.

It’s just as fast as my own. Her fingers continue.

Hot, wet thrusts, and something inside of me starts to unravel as my body jolts and grinds.

The tips of her fingers curl against that sensitive spot inside me. Over and over.

“Shit! I’m gonna—” I plead, my voice muffled against her. My body clenches, a desperate, involuntary spasm, and that loosening thread inside me snaps.

“Don’t stop,” she commands.

A silent cry rips through me, the sound trapped in my throat.

My body shudders, convulsing around her fingers, and the throbbing ache in my clit finally bursts.

I can feel her fingers, still moving, still stroking, pushing me further, deeper into the white bliss.

I cling to her body as the sensation rolls through me, every muscle in my body tightening and loosening at the same damn time.

When the world slowly returns to focus, Darcy’s fingers ease, and I’m left gripping her body in a sweating, panting heap. Her breast slips from my mouth as she pulls back, and I let go of her, trailing my pulsing fingertips down her body.

She quickly pulls them away, and my stomach sinks.

“Let me return the favor,” I murmur, still panting, tracing her jaw.

I feel her head shake against mine, then, the flat sheet sliding out from under me.

When Darcy pulls the eye mask off, it’s like I have night vision in contrast to the dark silk I had on before.

I can see better now, and I think Darcy’s aware, because she’s fully cocooned, hands included, in the sheet.

“It’s not an exchange,” she says, collapsing beside me on the bed.

The moonlight sweeps over her briefly as she falls back, and it’s like it exists to illuminate her.

Our eyes lock for a moment, and then she smiles softly.

“Don’t take it like that,” she says. “I’m just more of a giver sometimes.

Helps me feel less insecure.” Then her brow quirks.

“Didn’t take you for a pillow princess though. Huh.”

An offended scoffs slips out of me, and I grab the pillow from under my head, and smack her with it lightly. “If you fucking tell anyone—”

She laughs, then settles back into the bed. “Please. You think I want anyone to know I fucked the team captain?”

“Better than the spawn of Satan.”

“Hey that’s mean.” She grins. “I prefer the devil herself.”