Killian (On the Line 1) - Page 46

I walked over to her office door and opened it, peeking into the main office area. Barb’s desk was vacant and the lights were off. I closed the door and turned the lock on the handle.

“Get up,” I said.

Her eyes brightened as she rose from her chair. I approached purposefully, backing her against the wall behind her desk.

“Show me your pussy,” I said in a low tone.

She licked her lips, her expression a mix of desire and uncertainty.

“I won’t touch,” I promised.

Hiking her skirt up around her hips, she lowered her white panties to mid-thigh. My cock sprang to life, hardening as I stared at the short patch of red curls right above her slit.

I grabbed her skirt with both fists and pushed her against the wall, putting her creamy skin and exposed pussy on full display.

“We’re gonna win tonight, and after the game I plan to fuck this pussy long and hard. I want you to get it ready for me. Go get it waxed bare and buy some lacy panties.”

“Yes,” she said softly. “I’ll be ready.”

I stared into her eyes, taking in their glazed look. We both knew I’d be shredding those panties tonight. And we were both fucking dying for it.I always felt ten feet tall walking out of the tunnel before a game. The roar of the crowd and the thrill of the game ahead gave me an adrenaline rush like nothing else.

But tonight there was a deeper fuel to my fire. Sidney. I couldn’t stop picturing her, skirt hiked up and panties bunched around her thighs.

When it came to sex, she didn’t just do what I told her, she loved doing it. The wanton look in her eyes when I’d told her to show me her pussy had me more charged up than anything.

She was a woman who was always in control. She was the boss. The one charged with making tough decisions. I knew part of my appeal was that in the bedroom, I took control. I gave, and she took. It was the one area in her life where she could let go. Nothing was off limits.

I slid onto the ice, leading the team around for a lap. The crowd was a sea of blue. I took in their energy, knowing we’d bring them a win tonight.

For once, I hoped Sidney wasn’t in her owner’s box. I imagined her lying on a table at a fancy salon, hot wax warming her delicate skin. She’d be such a sexy sight with a bare pussy. I had a flash of jealous anger as I made the final turn around the rink. Had any other man eaten her soft, smooth pussy? I wanted her to discover how much more sensitive it was this way with me.

I slid to a stop and waited for the announcer’s pre-game introductions. I had to get my shit under control—there was no way I’d be able to focus with a raging boner.

But my imagination was still running wild. Would she buy a thong? I wanted to run my fingers over the strap on her ass and tug on the back of it to create friction against her clit.

Or maybe she’d buy lacy panties. I’d lick her pussy through the fabric, then rip them in half and take her from behind.

“How’s it goin’?” the ref asked me.

I shook my head, forcing the images away. “Uh . . . good. How ‘bout you?”

“No complaints.”

He looked at the other captain, a guy who’d been stuck with the unfortunate name of Reggie Roach.

“What’s up, Roach?” he asked.

He shrugged and smirked at me. “Looking forward to an easy win.”

“Let’s go, old man,” I said. Roach hated jabs about his age.

“Speaking of easy, tell your mom thanks for last night,” I said, grinning. Roach was an old school trash talker. It was one of the things I liked best about going up against him.

He was about to issue a comeback that probably would’ve had me rolling, but the ref dropped the puck. We both swung our sticks, jokes forgotten.

It was game time, but the real fun would come later.Sidney

By the time I heard Killian’s key turning in the lock to my front door, I was beyond ready. I’d been in a state of constant arousal since our encounter in my office earlier.

He walked into the bedroom, his tie loose around his neck. The fire in his smoky gray eyes matched the burn between my thighs.

I drank in his gaze as he studied me from head to toe. I’d chosen classic black lingerie—a lacy bra and skimpy panties to match, complete with garter belts.

“Perfect,” he said, tossing his coat on an open chair.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Strip for me,” he said, sitting down in the chair he’d thrown his coat on.

I took a deep breath, wishing I’d had time to prepare. YouTube videos would’ve at least helped me know where to start.

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