Killian (On the Line 1)

I’d have to wing it. I approached him, stopping close enough that he could see me but not touch me. Then I turned my back to him and slid my bra straps down one at time, my head turned so I could see his reaction.

When I reached around to unhook my bra and toss it to the floor, his eyes blazed. I cupped my breasts in my hands and tossed my hair back.

He had a hand on the fly of his dress pants and I saw him massaging his erection as I bent to slide the garters off. I pushed the panties halfway down my ass, wiggling it for his benefit, and then turned to face him as I slid them the rest of the way down.

“Wow,” he said, his gaze fixed between my legs. “So fucking hot. Come closer.”

I stepped out of my panties and approached. He brushed his thumb over the exposed skin of my pussy. Moaning, I eased my hips forward to increase the contact.

He reached into his pocket and took out a condom, holding it out.

“Put it on me,” he said.

I took the foil package in my hand and bent to unbutton and unzip his pants. I worked them down just enough to free his erection and then tore open the package.

He groaned deep in his throat as I rolled it on. The throb between my legs was all I could think about, and I gave a small cry of satisfaction when he put his hands on my hips and guided me to his lap.

I straddled him, bending my knees to lower myself onto his rigid arousal. Just as his tip brushed my opening, he gripped my hips, stopping me from going any further.

“You want me?” he asked in a low tone.

“Yes, please,” I said, my hunger for him almost unbearable.

“Ride me hard, Sid. Hard and fast or I’ll stop you.”

“Oh, God.” I looked up at the ceiling, his voice driving me into a frenzy.

With no further warning, he pulled my hips down, slamming himself into me.

“Ah, Killian,” I cried, grabbing his shoulders for support. He was deep inside me, and my bare skin against his felt better than I’d imagined anything could.

I rode him with no inhibition, his words still ringing in my ears. He was thrusting up into me at the same time. It was the deepest sex I’d ever had, and within a couple minutes I threw my head back and screamed his name, coming so hard I was lightheaded for a second.

He was right behind me, gripping my shoulder and wrapping his other arm around my waist as he groaned loudly through clenched teeth.

I collapsed against him, breathing hard. He kissed my neck softly, humming a noise of satisfaction against my skin.

“You take orders well, Sid,” he said. “Very well.”Killian

I pushed up on the sides of the tub to ease myself to a standing position. The burning in my thighs and ribs made me pause halfway up and I held onto the grab bar for support. The ice bath had helped some, but I was still sore as hell. The game tonight had been brutal.

Bennett was nearby, and he held out an arm to steady me as I got out of the tub. I winced as I lifted one leg, and then the other, over the edge of the bath.

“We got a shitload of ice time tonight,” he said. “My legs are on fire, too.”

We were currently ranked second in the league, and we’d played the number one ranked team tonight. The whole game had been a street fight for the puck. The fans had loved every minute, and I had, too. But now I was moving like an old man.

I took a quick shower and dressed in my suit, my body still aching from the simple act of getting dressed.

“You coming out tonight?” Felix Mercer, one of our goaltenders, was trying to get a group together for dinner and drinks. He was only nineteen but the kid was a phenom, and I could tell he’d be in the big league soon.

I shook my head. “Nah, I’m beat. But drink one for me, man. Great game tonight.”

He grinned happily. We’d barely scraped out a win tonight, and it wouldn’t have happened without him. Felix had the young, hungry attitude we needed if we were going to sustain ourselves and get into the playoffs.

When I walked out of the locker room, a reporter approached me for a quick interview. A flash of dark red hair nearby caught my attention. Sidney was talking to some of the guys, congratulating them on the win.

The reporter turned to see what was distracting me.

“What do you think of the Ice Queen?” he asked, sticking a notebook in his pocket. “Off the record, of course.”

If only he knew. I tried not to smile.