Van (Cold Fury Hockey 9)

Her hands curl into my shirt and she fucking growls into my mouth. It shoots a bolt of pleasure straight through to my balls.

I savor her taste just for a minute, but I want more than that. Tearing my mouth away, I'm further weakened by the way her eyes are filmed over with desire and need.

Even though the words are heavy and oh so wrong as I scrape them off my tongue, I tell her, "I'm tired of your games, little girl. No more flirting and shaking your ass around me."

She laughs at me, and well she should. She hasn't been doing that for days now since she promised me she wouldn't. The brat has my fucking number and she knows it was that kiss in the bar that knocked down my defenses and left me vulnerable. She may not have intended it, but Simone is getting what she's always wanted.

Gripping her hair tighter, I lean my face back into hers and bite down on her lower lip. She gives a tiny sound of pain, so I lick it. Simone responds by thrusting her hips into me, and my rage burns even hotter that I've succumbed.

I release her so fast she stumbles forward slightly. I take a tiny step back, taking everything away from her but my command. My voice is harsh...guttural when I tell her, "Get your ass in my bed and get naked. I'm going to show you what happens when you aren't smart enough to stop provoking me."

The coldness in my eyes and the lack of intimacy in my tone were meant to intimidate her.

Send her running.

Instead my cock turns to fucking concrete when I see her eyes fire up with pure excitement over what's to come.

Goddamn fucking, incorrigible brat. I watch with narrowed eyes as she saunters to the hallway, pulling her blouse up over her head as she goes.

I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Part of me hopes to hear her go into the bathroom instead, because if she does, I'm fucking out of here.

Instead, I hear the familiar creak of my bedroom door and the taunting call of her sweet voice. "Come on, Van. Show me what you got."

"Fuck," I mutter, and with both trepidation and yearning beyond what I've ever felt before, I turn toward the hallway. I feel like I'm walking to my doom.

Or is it destiny?

The urges I have where Simone are concerned are so intensely dark I can't help but wonder how similar that makes me to him. From that first hot kiss, I've wanted to possess and control her, which is why it was so imperative she leave me the fuck alone.

Sadly, that ship has sailed, and I have no clue what's going to happen once I touch her.

When I walk into my bedroom, Simone is removing her jeans. She looks up at me and holds my gaze as she wiggles out of them. When they get to her ankles, she sits on the edge of my bed and holds her legs out. I note that her panties and bra, which she left in place, are black lace.

"Do the honors," she says with a sexy purr, completely ignoring my order to get naked and get on my bed. I'd imagined her spread-eagled and waiting, not this sexy creature wanting to play with me.

After I shut the door behind me, I pull my wallet from my pocket. Our eyes stay riveted upon one another as I fish a condom out.

I don't say a word. An endearment. A promise of what I can give her.

I sure as shit don't help her out of her clothes at her request.

I just free my cock from my jeans and roll the condom on, wanting her to get that this is me giving her the basics of what she's demanded.

Nothing more.

She tilts her head slightly, her eyes narrowing just a bit with uneasiness as she watches me walk toward her.

Bending over her, I put my hands to her hips and she gives a tiny hum in the back of her throat that she likes my touch.

She cries out in surprise when I flip her onto the bed, tossing her up just a bit before I yank her jeans off. Pulling her right up to her hands and knees, I push her legs apart.

"Oh God," she murmurs in a way that tells me she likes what I just did.

Fuck.

I'd hoped to scare some sense into her--since all mine has completely evaporated--when she realized I don't have love and roses to offer her. But this woman isn't normal, or so I'm finding out, as she pushes her ass back toward me. Her head hangs low in surrender and her body trembles. My balls start aching with need.

Just fuck.

Slipping my fingers into the waistband of her sexy black panties, I peel them down the back of her legs. As she's revealed to me, I take only a moment to admire the backside of her pussy before I slip a finger into her.

Goddamn soaked and so needy, her muscles contract around me.

"Van," she whispers. "Please."

An involuntary grunt rumbles out of me as I hook my finger inside of her, pressing it deeper.

"Please," she says again, and I give her what she wants.

Removing my hand, I line the tip of my cock up to her wet folds and I start to press inside of her.

Chapter 8

Simone

I can't breathe.

I honest to God can't even make my lungs work because I'm afraid to take my attention away from the feel of Van as he starts to work himself inside me. I can only feel one hand on my hip, the other I imagine holding himself steady as he enters me.

And the head of his big, thick cock pressing inside.

Everything I thought I wanted from him culminates in this one thrilling, provocatively sinful moment, and I know there was Old Simone, and there will be a New Simone when this is done.

Right now, I'm In Between Simone and I can't fucking breathe.

Van lets out a strangled sound as he takes me...an inch in, back out. Two in, back out.

So big and I feel stretched to capacity, but I still want him deeper. So I start to push back against him.

A hand immediately comes to the back of my skull and he grips a chunk of my hair, pulling my head up slowly. I go from looking at his comforter to my gaze sliding upward as he pulls and pulls me so my head is tipped all the way back and I'm looking at the ceiling.

"Touch yourself," he says gruffly as he holds my head in place and resumes his slow, deliberate strokes. My hand immediately goes between my legs, and the first brush of my fingers against my clit causes my hips to tilt, seeking more friction from myself.

At the same time, Van gives a sharp punch of his hips into me, seating himself deeply, and I nearly weep.

"Yes," I hiss as all the air in my lungs comes out in a massive r

ush. "So good. So damn good."

This mysterious, withdrawn, and taciturn man shouldn't be this alluring to me, but he is. My body hugs him tight as if it knows his cock was made just for me.

Then he moves.

A hand on my hip, the other keeping my head pulled back by his fist in my hair. Van's breathing roughens as he starts to fuck me, and I pant right along with him as his thrusts go deeper. My fingers work between my legs, but I'm having a hard time concentrating there. Vague, distracted sweeps that can't compare to the feeling of him pounding inside me.

Van's hand grips my hip tighter and he slams into me with snarls and grunts of pleasure. My hand drops away from my clit to press down into the mattress for leverage, and I throw myself backward onto him.

"Fuck," he groans as my ass slams into his pelvis, the zipper on his jeans scraping my skin.

That one word torn from his chest as if he's died and gone to heaven is what sets me off. Like a fucking rocket, my orgasm bursts apart with such intensity I scream out my release.

Van's hand is gone from my hair and both hands are now spanning my hips as he fucks me with brute force, and I love every fucking minute of it.

And then he's shoving me down onto the mattress, his heavy weight slamming onto me. His pelvis bucks and grinds into my ass with a rolling motion, and then he whispers, "Simone," as he starts to come. He gives a ragged moan that sounds fulfilled and defeated all at the same time.

He buries his head into the back of my neck, and I feel his hot breath through my hair as he continues to slowly move within me. Tiny shudders of pleasure pop along my skin as I relish every millimeter of friction his cock is still creating inside of me.

There's a moment he goes still, and then he's rolling off my back. Turning my head his way, I push my hair out of my face to look at him.

If I'd been hoping to find a sated, peaceful expression on his face, I'd be sorely disappointed. Instead he looks troubled as he stares at the ceiling, both of his hands resting on his stomach as his breathing starts to return to normal. He looks wicked and sinful with his condom-covered cock lying at an angle across his lower abdomen and over the bottom hem of his shirt, which he hadn't even bothered to take off. He's still fully dressed and he just gave me the best sex I'd ever had in my life.