Sterling (Carolina Reapers 6)

And Jansen touched every single one of them.

And since I was merely a puppet at his mercy in this position, I did the only thing I could do—crushed my mouth to his. I kissed him, devouring his mouth like I would his cock later. Sighed and moaned between his lips, relishing the taste of him as he pounded inside me with such a primal branding I could barely breathe or think straight.

Reduced to nothing but sensation, I succumbed to the glittering pleasure he wrung from my body. He held me like I weighed nothing, drove into me like he wanted to brand himself across my soul. Wanted to ensure that no one would ever be able to follow him.

And no one ever would.

No one could ever or would ever compare to him. This incredible, fantastic, brilliant man.

“I love you,” I said, flicking my tongue along the edges of his teeth.

He growled, driving into me harder, faster.

Pushing me over that sweet, sharp edge until I shattered around him.

Relentless in his hunger, he kept plunging into me, the heat of him, the rock-hard length of him dragging one orgasm out into another. My thighs trembled as I clenched them around him, my cries likely sounding down the fucking street.

I didn’t care.

I couldn’t care.

Because all that existed or mattered was him and me and us.

This love that burned and sparkled and consumed. That strengthened and shook me.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his fingers digging in tighter where he held me against the wall.

I tangled my fingers in his hair, yanking his head back so I could watch him come. And the sight of it—those churning blue eyes that ignited like blue flames, those muscles flexing as he effortlessly held me against that wall, the way he owned every single inch of me in that moment…

It sent me right over the edge with him. Again.

And after? We collapsed to the floor, a mess of tangled limbs and heaved breaths.

I’d never felt happier or more complete than I did in that moment.

I was nearly drunk on the knowledge that Jansen Sterling had claimed me, heart and soul.

15

Sterling

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The edge of the desk bit into the back of my thighs as I stared at the clock on the wall in London’s office like it was the countdown on a nuclear weapon. Fifteen minutes. That’s exactly how long I had to get my ass downstairs and into the locker room to gear up.

“Then you need to get another security screener down there,” London said as she walked through the door, her cell phone at her ear. “Because we can’t have an hour-long line to get through security, Sean. It’s not acc—” Her eyes widened slightly as she saw me, and then her expression softened. “Call Rob and ask him for another screener. I have to go.” She hung up and slipped her phone into her back pocket.

“No rest for the wicked, huh?” I asked. “You’re supposed to be off today.” She’d even come in casual—jeans and a fitted, black Reaper jacket.

“Right?” She took a seat next to me on her desk. “Sean hasn’t quite figured out the staffing issues.”

“Don’t worry, next year there will only be one desk in this room, and it will be yours.” I put my arm around her shoulder and tucked her close to my side. Just having her near settled my stomach.

“Speaking of this room…” She nailed me with those glacier-blue eyes. “Are you hiding? Usually you’re the first one in the locker room, and I can’t help but notice that you’re about fifteen minutes from the mandatory check-in time.”

I glanced at the clock. “Fourteen minutes.”

“I know today has to be hard for you.” She stroked her hand down my thigh in a soothing motion.

“I’ve never played when I knew he was in the stands. He’s shown up to a couple of games, but I only knew afterward, and I’ve sure as hell never been on the ice with Maxim at the same time.” Great, the nausea was back in full force.

“What can I do for you?” she asked gently.

I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Just love me.”

“I do. I love you with my whole heart.” She tipped her face up and kissed me. “You are an amazing goalie, Jansen. Sure, maybe he gave you some good genetics when it comes to hand-eye coordination or something, but the rest is you. Your training. Your hard work. Your dedication. He can’t touch you out there.”

“Still feels like I have something to prove.”

“Only to yourself. The rest of us are already well aware of what an incredible player—incredible man you are.”

The knot in my chest loosened with her words, and I kissed her again before rising to my feet. “I love you, London Foster.”

Her smile was bright enough to make me fall all over again. “Good. Now go. I’ll see you after.”