A Secret for a Secret (All In 3)

“I didn’t mind. And I wore cheap ones tonight, just in case.” I take the opportunity for what it is and lift my dress over my head, tossing it on the floor. My bra and panties are lace and satin from the bargain bin, because I am very much hoping for a repeat of last time. “It’s okay if you want to lose control with me, King. I definitely want to lose control with you.”

He exhales a shaky breath, and his gaze moves over me in a hungry sweep. The smolder in his eyes sparks and flames. He crosses the room in four long strides and comes to an abrupt halt in front of me. His hands curl into fists, flexing and releasing as a low groan bubbles up from his chest. Still fighting to keep his leash on.

I uncross my legs and hook my foot around the back of his knee, tugging him closer.

His threads of control pull tight, threatening to snap.

He moves into the empty space between my thighs, and his hand shoots out, sliding into the hair at the nape of my neck to anchor there. His other hand runs up my bare thigh to cup my ass, fingertips digging in hard as I wrap my legs around his waist. I moan when his erection presses up against my stomach.

He tips my head back, lips only a breath away from mine, eyes dark with need and lust. His tongue peeks out to touch the imperfection in his front tooth. “You are entirely too much of a temptation to resist.”

“So stop resisting.”

I expect him to give in and kiss me, but instead he drops his head and drags the tip of his nose along the column of my throat, lips following until he pauses at my ear. “You may need to set some parameters for me, my queen, so I know how out of control I’m allowed to get here.”

I shiver in anticipation at his low warning tone and this new endearment. “No parameters.”

He pulls back, lips temptingly close. “None?”

I bite the edge of his jaw, enjoying the slight sting and tug at the base of my skull when his fingers tighten in my hair. “I’ve been waiting for months to get back into your bedroom.” I arch up and nibble his bottom lip. “Lock the Boy Scout in the closet and let yourself off your leash, King.”CHAPTER 14

UNRESTRAINED

Kingston

I very rarely lose control.

Actually, that’s untrue.

Pre-Queenie I very rarely lost control. Now it seems every time I’m alone with her, the word becomes an elusive, untenable concept. Especially when we’re unclothed. Which is part of the reason I’ve avoided bringing her back to my place after our dates. Or spending any time with her in either of our hotel rooms at away games. I’m trying to be respectful of my girlfriend and our situation.

But tonight I planned to bring her back here. After I picked her up, brought her flowers and chocolate—those are sitting on my kitchen counter—and took her out for a nice dinner.

Because I haven’t done more than kiss her in the past two weeks. I haven’t touched her, tasted her, made her come. And it’s literally all I can think about when I’m not on the ice.

I haven’t been this hormonally driven since I was a teenager. And back then I used hockey to work out the frustration. It’s become an ineffective strategy where Queenie is concerned.

In hindsight, the two-week wooing period in which I deprived Queenie and myself of any kind of gratification was probably not my smartest move. And now she’s given me explicit permission to loosen my reins.

Queenie’s fingertips drift down my cheek. Even that innocuous contact sends a shot of heat down my spine and makes my erection twitch behind my fly. A tiny moan leaves Queenie’s lips, pulling me out of my head.

“I’m taking you to bed.” It’s more growl than words.

A shiver runs through her, and she clasps her hands behind my neck as I hoist her up. “That’s all I’m asking for,” she murmurs in my ear, nipping at the lobe.

“I think you’re asking for a lot more than a make-out session and a snuggle.” I squeeze her lush bottom as I carry her down the hall.

“An orgasm would be incredibly welcome.” Her lips part against the side of my neck, and her wet, warm tongue sweeps out, teeth pressing gently into the skin.

I shoulder the door open and carry her over to the bed, laying her out on the freshly washed sheets. “Just one?” I ask as I climb up after her.

Queenie yanks my shirt free from my pants and rises up on her knees, palms flattening against my stomach, pushing my shirt up. I pull it over my head and toss it on the floor while Queenie goes to work on my belt. “Last time I was here I lost track, so if you can make me so incoherent I forget how to count, that would be perfect.”