Page 39 of Trick Shot (Bainbridge Hockey #4)

I see heat bloom in her cheeks and I’m guessing her face isn’t the only thing that’s getting hotter.

“I want that,” she tells me, pushing her perfect ass back toward me. But I also want this,” she says, reaching her hand and trailing over my t-shirt covered torso. “Take your shirt off, Pete. I want to see you. I want to feel your body on mine.”

Fuck it.

What Claire wants, Claire gets. And that includes my naked chest. Reaching behind my head, I tug off the tee and fling it to the ground before picking up a foil packet and gliding the condom onto my rock-hard dick.

She puts her hands back down on the mattress as I tease the opening of her entrance with the tip of my cock.

Goddamn .

Her pussy is soaked.

“What did you do while you waited for me, Claire?” I ask, even though the answer is clear. “Did you touch yourself? ”

“Yes,” she pants, pushing back toward me like she needs the contact, and fuck , so do I.

“Did you make yourself come or were you waiting for me?” The answer doesn’t really matter. Either choice is equally hot, but when she turns back toward me, her cheeks a rosy pink, I can make an educated guess.

“You got yourself off in between these sheets?” I ask, lust coursing through my veins as I watch her head bob in confirmation. “You finger-fucked yourself with my name on your back?” I ask, my inner caveman rising to the surface.

The image is so hot that my cock swells as it slips past the wet pink lips of her pussy. “What were you thinking about?” I ask, gripping her hips as I push myself another inch inside her.

A soft moan falls from her mouth, and I watch with rapt attention as her body moves on mine.

Her perfect, greedy pussy is swallowing my cock inch by inch. The ass I love so much is writhing and wiggling. My jersey is draped across her back. I’m convinced nothing could be hotter than this very moment, but then Claire opens her eyes and peers at me over her shoulder.

“I was thinking about you—about us,” she tells me, biting down on her lip. “I was thinking about how much I love it when you fill me up. About the way your fingers feel when they slip inside me. About how good it feels when your cock is deep inside me.”

Her words are a match, and I go up in flames as I sink my cock into her just the way she was imagining when she stroked herself to orgasm an hour ago in this bed.

I pump into her in shallow thrusts as my hands move from her hips to her waist. Splaying one hand across her belly, I position the other so it’s just below her breasts, and I guide her up so that her back is against my chest, the fabric of my jersey between us.

“Is this okay?” I ask. “Can you reach the headboard if you need to hold onto something?”

Instead of answering right away, she tips her head back so that it rests on my shoulder, and she flashes those beautiful blue eyes at me. “This is more than okay.”

We both have our knees on the bed, and I snake my hand up under my jersey to let my fingers trail across the undersides of her breasts. She cries out and reaches for the headboard while I thrust my cock deep inside her.

“Pete—” she pants my name like she’s overwhelmed in the very best way. I’m toying with her nipples and squeezing her breasts while burying my cock in her heat.

“I’m right here,” I say, my voice low. I’m kissing her neck and that sweet spot right behind her ear that makes her shiver.

She feels too damn good, and those little whimpers and moans are gonna be the end of me, I swear.

When I feel her thighs start to tremble against mine, I lower my right hand on the soft skin of her stomach to hold her upright.

And holy fuck, that’s a good idea. I can feel the intensity as she grinds her pussy on the base of my cock.

I can fucking feel every flutter and tremor as I pump inside her.

She’s so damn close and I can’t wait to watch her go right over the edge.

“You look so fucking good in this,” I say, my eyes roaming over my jersey. “I thought I was gonna come back here and take matters in my own damn hands, but I like this plan a lot better.”

“Me, too,” she says on a stuttered breath. “But the idea of watching you get yourself off— oh, god, right there.”

The words are said on a rush as her body tenses.

Tilting my hips up, I hit that sweet spot inside her as she holds onto the headboard with two hands and cries out.

Her orgasm is powerful. Her body tightens on my cock like a vise and I don’t have a prayer of holding out.

I don’t even want to. There’s nothing better than holding Claire in my arms as we each make each other’s body detonate with pleasure.

We collapse on the bed and after a few minutes, I muster up the presence of mind to toss the condom. When I come back to bed, I’ve got a towel to clean up the mess we made, but Claire’s curled up in the covers, her eyes closed and a smile gracing her lips.

I don’t even bother putting my shirt back on. I just wrap my body around hers and pull up the covers.

My fingertips brush the letters on the back of my jersey as I press a kiss to Claire’s temple and drift off to sleep.