Strike (Sphere of Irony 2)

“What—”

“Shhhhh,” I pull her over to straddle me and thrust up into her tight heat before she can say another word.

“Oh god,” she moans loudly. Kate sits up, bracing herself by spreading her hands across my chest. She rolls her hips slowly. “Oh, god.”

I practically swallow my tongue, stuttering uncontrollably. “Y-you feel so g-goooood.” Kate tilts her head back, those wicked hips never stopping in their mission to drive me insane.

We never tried this position before. Kate was always too insecure to be on top. My how things have changed.

I glide my hands up and down her smooth skin. “You look stunning riding me, angel.”

Kate moves faster, moving her hands from my chest so she can bend back, putting her them on my thighs. I can feel the gyrations of her body all the way down in my toes. Too soon, the delicious tingle begins in the base of my spine, quickly building in intensity.

“Kate, Kate…shit.”

I know I won’t be able to hold it back, and from the noises Kate is making, she has to be as close as I am. With my hands on her hips, I thrust up and drag her back and forth while bucking into her to give her the friction she needs to come.

That’s all it takes to send her over the edge, crying out my name as her entire body shakes with pleasure. The sight of Kate shattering so spectacularly while riding my cock is enough to pull me right along with her. Two more deep upward thrusts and I explode , shouting loudly and filling the condom with my release.

Kate collapses on top of me, her long hair scattering over my skin in soft wisps. I wrap her up in my arms, determined to never let her go. This moment is perfect. Truly perfect.

Kate stirs, sated eyes meeting mine. She gives me a small smile and a peck on the lips.

“We need to talk.”

Moment ruined.

Kate

After getting dressed and grabbing our forgotten drinks, Dax and I curl up on one of the sofas in the lounge of his suite. I can see the anxiety on his face, something that will take some getting used to. Stone cold is the only expression I recognize on his handsome yet intimidating exterior .

“So, err, what did you want to talk about?” Dax asks, rubbing the back of his neck in a classic display of stress.

My ears heat up. “Why, Dax?”

He looks up, his confusion plain as day.

“Why what?”

I swallow thickly. I can do this. I deserve answers. I’m not a scared, insecure girl anymore.

“Why did you leave?”

Shocked, I watch as this big, tough man — a man who never showed a hint of emotion until now — pales and his eyes shine with unshed tears.

He opens and closes his mouth several times before he can speak. “I…shit, Kate. I didn’t want to ruin your life.”

That is so far from the answer I expected to hear, I have no response prepared.

“I don’t understand.”

Dax shifts closer on the sofa, putting a hand on my knee. “The cameras, Lila, groupies, the scrutiny of it all …” He blows out a long breath. “After that disaster at your game, a game that was important to you, I realized that being with me would destroy everything you loved.”

I reach out, skimming a finger down the sandpaper stubble of Dax’s cheek. He leans into my touch, his eyes fluttering closed.

When his dark eyes open and focus on mine, the depth of the emotions behind them nearly steals my breath away. “Dax, the only thing I loved was you.”

That’s when the impossible happens. The Iceman sheds a tear.