Page 35 of Wake Me Up (New England Bay Sharks #5)

Setting me down on the bench, he tugs my bottoms off before wrapping his hand around his dick and working his hand up and down his hard length.

“Spread your legs, baby. I’m fucking starving,” he says gruffly and drops to his knees.

Out of pure and greedy desperation, I part my legs, and for a moment, he hangs back.

“Such a fucking pretty little pussy,” he utters with a dazed look in his eyes. “Hold on tight, baby. I’m going to fucking consume you until you can’t take it any longer.”

When he moves forward, burying his face between my thighs and spreading me further apart, I can’t stop the slew of moans that come from my lips.

He devours me, licking my pussy like he’s taken a goddamn class on going down on women.

I’d probably be jealous, wondering about where he learned to be this amazing at it, but it feels too good for me to even form a thought that deep.

“Tripp,” I whimper, thrusting my hands into his hair as my body is splayed out on this bench. “Fuck … Tripp.”

His palms run up my sides, and he grips my flesh roughly, using my skin to thrust my center back and forth against his face. Deep, desperate groans come from his lips, but I can’t reach his cock to help him ease his ache.

“Stroke your cock.” The filthy words come from my mouth, and I’m not even the least bit ashamed. I’m too turned on from that, and I can’t think of anything hotter than him pleasuring himself while he pleasures me .

His hand drops from my side, and within seconds, it slides up and down his length. His mouth doesn’t miss a beat as he glides his tongue back and forth, bringing me to the edge, and I know it won’t be long till I’m falling over.

“I’m so close.” My eyes shift from his mouth between my legs and his hand making a jerking motion. “I want to watch your dick explode, Tripp. Please … give that to me, and I’ll come all over your face.”

I don’t know if it’s my words or if he’s just at the point of no return, but one last stroke, and cum shoots from the tip of his dick, spraying on his own hand, and I swear I feel some hit my ankle.

That’s it. That’s all it takes, and I’m bucking my pussy against his face and tugging his hair while I cry out his name.

“Tripp,” I practically shriek out, throwing my head back as black spots begin to dance in my vision. “Shit … Tripp.” My nails dig into his scalp, and my entire body quivers in pure ecstasy while I rock against him like I never want this orgasm to end.

Eventually, it does though. But unlike before, when I dry-humped his leg, I don’t try to run away, and I also don’t feel like I’m going to cry.

Instead, I smile down at him.

“Well, that was fun,” I say, still out of breath. “Definitely would do it again.”

“Damn straight you would.” He crawls upward, putting his palms on either side of me. “Because your pussy was the best thing I’ve eaten in a long time. And now … I’m going to have frequent cravings. And just so you know, I don’t have much willpower when it comes to my cravings, sweet thing.”

He kisses me, and I’m not even grossed out because he makes everything so damn sexy.

“I know you said no sex because baby steps and all, but do you have time to watch a movie?” he asks, tugging me onto his lap on the seat beside me. He pushes my hair over my shoulders and kisses my neck. “I’m not ready for you to go yet, darlin’.”

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I can’t fight the foolish smile that spreads across my face. It’s so big that my cheeks ache. “I’m not ready to leave yet either, Coach. ”

“Good,” he whispers. “Because I wasn’t going to let you if you tried.” His eyes narrow slightly. “Not this time.”

Maybe it’s because I know him better now than I did the last time I was here or I’ve seen how he is with my kids. Whatever the reason, I trust him now more than I did then. And that trust is making me look at him in a whole new light.

In Tripp’s bed, we watch Fool’s Gold because it’s one of my favorite movies and he let me choose, but I’m having a hard time concentrating. When I massaged his legs, I meant it to be sexy. Now I’m wondering if he really is in pain.

I grab the remote from beside us and sit up. “Can I ask you something?”

“Maybe. Is it that you’d like to ride my face? Okay … fine, I guess that’s all right,” he drawls, giving me a playful wink. “I’m kidding. Sure, go ahead.”

I gently rub my hand along his thigh, moving it to his hip. “Is your body, like … actually in pain every time you play?” For some reason, I’m whispering. It just seems like such a sobering subject. “I’m sorry if this is rude to ask. Please don’t feel like you have to tell me.”

The look on his face tells me he’s genuinely surprised I asked, and he sits up slightly, bringing his pillow up on the bedframe.

“I’ve been playing pro hockey for eleven years,” he says, giving me an almost-sad grin.

“And before that, I played hockey year-round just to make sure I got the chance to make it to the NHL. My body has been through a lot. And while I take good care of myself, what I do for work isn’t exactly easy on me. ”

“Yeah,” I whisper, dragging my hand up and down his leg.

“It may sound ignorant, but I never thought about that. I never thought about the injuries and all the repetition of the same movements.” I lean forward, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I’m sorry that you’re going through it. It can’t be easy.”

“No big deal. Lot of worse things going on in the world than my problems.” He shakes my words off—just like I knew he would. He reaches forward, rubbing his fingers on my chin. “You know what would make it better? ”

“What?” I eye him over skeptically.

“If you sat on my face.” He winks.

Smacking his stomach, I grab the remote and push play. Fool’s Gold starts to play again, and I settle back, nuzzling into Tripp’s side.

For a man who is the best listener, he certainly doesn’t like to talk about himself.