Page 12 of Rematch (Stingrays Hockey #3)

Preston chuckled, then craned his head toward the corner behind him. “Lucky for us. There’s a bench seat.” He sank down on it, his firm hands on her hips, pulling her forward until she stood in front of him.

Chelsea reached for the shampoo, gasping softly when Preston put their new position to good use, sucking one of her nipples into his mouth.

She managed to work up a lather in his hair as he tormented her breasts with his teeth and fingers and tongue. He loved the way she forgot herself at times, her fists closing in his hair, tugging it roughly in response to his ministrations.

“So good,” she whispered. “You make me feel so good.”

Unable to hold back, Preston rose and quickly rinsed his own hair before twisting Chelsea away from him, pushing her chest against the tiled wall in front of her.

With his hand, he guided his cock between her legs, stroking it along her wet slit. Chelsea gripped him between her clenched thighs, adding her own motion to the thrust.

Preston continued to stroke, the head of his cock brushing her clit over and over.

On one return thrust, Chelsea tilted her hips too much and his dick slipped inside her pussy.

He clenched his teeth, gripping her hard to hold her still.

He’d never taken a woman without a condom, and honestly, he could have gone a lifetime without knowing how fucking amazing it felt, because now…

Jesus.

He couldn’t linger inside her, but pulling away was almost physically impossible.

Why the fuck hadn’t he thought to grab a condom before leading her to the shower?

Probably because he’d just fucking come.

Chelsea squirmed as much as his tight grip would allow, her pussy clenching around him, seeking more, until she realized why he was holding back. He groaned as the two of them pulled away from each other, his dick mourning the loss of her hot cunt.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t…I mean… It just feels…”

“Yeah,” he agreed, pushing his cock back between her thighs, resuming the tantalizing, irresistible feeling of being tucked between the lips of her pussy.

Reaching around her, he rubbed her clit, pinching it a couple of times, causing her to rise on her tiptoes as she moaned.

The friction between her thighs was driving his arousal higher than he expected.

“God. I think I’m going to…” she gasped. “This isn’t…normal.”

It spoke to just what a loser her ex was that she seemed shocked to discover she could come more than one—five—times in a night.

“It’s completely normal,” he replied, increasing the pressure of his fingers on her clit as he continued to slide between her thighs, the motion pushing him to the brink again as well.

While he wasn’t a stranger to multiple orgasms in a single evening, his recovery time was usually longer.

Something told him he could come right now, and only need a few minutes before he was ready to take her again.

Suddenly, three condoms didn’t feel like anywhere near enough.

Chelsea used her forearms, pressed flat against the tile wall, to help propel herself back and forth in time with his movements.

Unable to resist, he gripped her ass cheek with his free hand while still working her clit with the other. Sliding his thumb through the crack, he wiggled it over her anus, loving the loud gasping burst of air that erupted from her lips.

“Preston!”

There was enough shock in the tone to let him know she was novice at anal play. If that was all he heard, he would have pulled back. However, there was just as much interest in those two syllables, so he wiggled his thumb again.

Her head bowed forward as her body began to tremble, a sign her climax was rapidly approaching. Not for the first time tonight, he cursed the fact she was leaving.

Fucking Paris.

“God,” she cried out, her back arching as she came hard.

While Preston would have killed to be inside her body, experiencing that orgasm in 4-D, it was just as potent this way because he was able to focus more on her response than his.

He held her upright, her body too shaky to do the job.

Her breathing was staggered, and he could feel her swollen clit pulsing between his fingers.

She closed her hands into fists briefly before opening them again and splaying them on the tile, seeking purchase, support.

She didn’t need it. He would never let her fall.

There was something truly beautiful about watching this woman come undone in his arms. Because in that moment, she wasn’t just giving him her body.

No. Chelsea was giving him something so much better.

Her trust.

She’d been hurt this year, and he had gotten the sense from their conversations that her ex’s cruel actions hadn’t just broken her heart but wounded her ability to trust.

The knowledge that she was offering that trust to him tonight, warmed him all the way to the depths of his soul.

Only when the last vestiges of her climax had waned did Preston give in to his own needs. Gripping his cock in his fist, he pumped it roughly, rapidly, no more than a dozen strokes necessary before he came between her thighs, as well as on her lower back and ass.

“Fuck,” he said through gritted teeth, shocked by how much come there was, considering he’d just filled a condom less than half an hour ago.

“Jesus. Chelsea.” Her name fell from his lips like a prayer.

God knew that was what this night with her felt like.

The answer to a prayer, something he’d never even thought to ask for.

The side of Chelsea’s head rested on her hand against the wall, her gaze cast over her shoulder in his direction. “You are so sexy,” she murmured.

He couldn’t hold back his grin as he leaned forward and kissed her shoulder. “Can’t hold a candle to you.”

Chelsea pushed herself upright, and Preston spun her around until her back was directly under the stream of hot water. Pumping some body wash on his hand, he scrubbed away his come, then dragged his fingers through her slit, cleaning off her own arousal.

“It occurs to me I’ve been doing showers wrong my whole life,” she said, her voice husky as she looked up at him through long lashes.

“Oh yeah?”

“I’ve always used them for getting clean. I see now, the best showers are the ones where you get very, very dirty.”

Preston laughed, even though she made one hell of a point.

Turning off the water, he reached for a towel before helping her out of the shower. She giggled as he vigorously dried her off, then swatted his hands away as he started sluicing water from her long hair.

“I’m perfectly capable of drying myself off,” she said, grinning widely.

“Well, I’m not, and this is definitely a tit-for-tat situation.” Preston grabbed a dry towel and handed it to her, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Chelsea took it without complaint. While his attempt at drying her off had been playful, hers was full-on seduction as she slowly drew the soft material over his skin.

His cock took notice—because of course it did—and within minutes, he was riding at half-mast again. She was going to be the death of him. And he didn’t fucking mind a bit. He’d had a good life.

Once they were dry, they returned to the bedroom, crawling beneath the covers together. They hadn’t even known each other six hours, and yet it felt completely natural to lay next to her, neither of them uncomfortable in their nudity.

“I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve come tonight,” she whispered.

“You keep mentioning that.”

“Because it’s pretty fucking notable,” she said, half joking, half serious.

“Am I to assume you’ve broken some sort of record? Tonight’s your personal best or something?”

Chelsea’s eyes widened. “Or something, for sure. My previous best was twice in one night, and that was because Rick was tipsy and riding high over a big promotion at work. It put him in a frisky, celebratory mood.” Then she sighed. “Dammit. I’m sorry. I hate that I keep bringing him up.”

Preston gripped the back of her neck, tilting her downturned face upward until her gaze connected with his. “Chelsea. I’m never going to bitch about comparisons between me and your ex when I come out sounding like a total stud.”

His joke had the desired effect as she cracked up. “Oh my God. I can’t remember the last time I’ve laughed this much. You are too much.”

“Aaaaaand?” he prompted.

“A total stud.”

“Good girl. Now, how would you feel about recreating that shower scene here in bed? Only this time, with a condom…and me buried deep inside your body?”

Chelsea didn’t bother to respond with words. Instead, she did one better, flipping over onto her hands and knees, shaking her sexy ass at him.

“Only if you promise to spank me again,” she said.

Preston, unable to resist, lifted his hand and smacked one of her gorgeous ass cheeks.

Chelsea glanced over her shoulder at him. “Do that again. But harder.”

Preston didn’t need to be asked twice. “I knew you were a kinky girl.”

She laughed in delight. “Only with you.”

Unable to resist, Preston lowered his head and gave her a light nip on her now-pink ass cheek, while she tried to wiggle away. “Good answer. I like the idea of keeping all your kinkiness to myself.”

Preston spanked her again, and while the first few were light and silly, it quickly morphed into something hotter.

Especially when Chelsea lowered her head to the bed, lifting her ass higher. “So hot,” she murmured.

Her flushed cheeks—both sets—proved that statement true.

Unable to resist testing her limits, Preston ran his finger through her ass crack once more. Ordinarily, with a new lover, he took his time, broaching new bedroom adventures over countless evenings rather than trying everything right out of the gate.

But with Chelsea, there was no time, and he was overcome by the need to claim as much as he could because he knew this was all there was.

Chelsea moaned softly when his thumb brushed her anus.

“New kink or familiar one?” he asked.

“New.”