Page 111 of Secrets and Lies
His moans turn into frustrated groans, and he rocks his hips impatiently, silently begging for more.
“So eager.” I rub my tip over his entrance, not giving him what he so desperately needs.
“Please,” he says on a low, guttural moan and once again tries to push back against me.
“Patience,” I tell him as I angle my hips so my dick pops out of his crease the next time he pushes his hips back.
“I want it,” he mumbles, sounding completely out of it.
“I know.” I rub my tip over him again. “And you’ll get it,” I say soothingly and push against him until my tip dips inside him, but then pull out as soon as he tries to push back on me again. “When I say you can have it.”
He lets out a frustrated grumble and grabs fistfuls of the sheets in his hands. The material of the restrains squeaks softly, and more arousal floods my system when I look up the line of his body and see the dark straps against his pale skin.
Steeling myself, I guide my dick back to his waiting hole. “That’s it,” I praise when he stays still for me, and push against his opening until my cockhead slips inside him.
We both groan as I sink in so that almost my entire head is buried in him, but I pull all the way out as soon as he tries to push back on me again.
“Did I say you could do that?”
He mumbles something I can’t make out, but by the tone, it doesn’t sound all that complimentary—or polite.
“What was that?” I press my tip inside him again. “I didn’t quite catch it.”
His groan is loud and desperate, and I can actually see his body tense as he locks his muscles and forces himself to stay still.
“There you go,” I say softly and keep pushing into him, sinking deeper and deeper until my thighs brush his ass. “You’re doing good.”
He makes a happy, snuffling sound and clenches around me.
The sudden tightness sends a jolt of pleasure through me as stars dance in front of my eyes, and I have to bite back my gasp so I don’t give away how amazing that felt.
Dropping down so my forearms are on the bed next to him and my legs are trapping his sweats against the bed, I slowly pull almost all the way out, then push back inside him in a long, fast glide.
He cries out and clenches around me, and instead of pounding into him, I find my rhythm, going as slow as I can while he whimpers and squirms under me. Then he glances over his shoulder at me, and we lock eyes.
His eyes are full of desire and heat, but there’s a dazed, faraway quality to them that shows just how deep into his pleasure he is, and damn if I don’t love knowing that I give him something he can’t get from anyone else. And I love how he can’t stay away from me and keeps coming back for more, even when he knows he shouldn’t.
It’s as exhilarating as it is addictive, and I’m learning that while confusing West and messing with his head is entertaining as hell, it has nothing on seeing the moment he gives in to his desires and fully surrenders not only to the moment, but to me.
I manage a few more agonizingly slow thrusts, but the urge to not just fuck him, but fucking own him, is too strong, and I can’t stop myself as I start moving in earnest.
The slap of our skin is loud in the room, and so is the rhythmic scrape of his bed sliding on the floor and the bang of his headboard hitting the wall. Anyone in the hall will know exactly what we’re doing, but being quiet is the last thing on mymind as I drive into West’s perfect body over and over, pushing us both closer to our orgasms with each punishing thrust.
The bitten-off words and garbled cries falling from West’s lips in a steady stream are some of the hottest sounds I’ve ever heard, and seeing him under me like this, all spread out and taking everything I give him, is so hot I have to bite the inside of my cheek and try to distract myself with a little pain so I don’t come.
After another minute or so of fucking West into the mattress, a dull, burning sensation starts in my thighs and rapidly spreads to my hips and the rest of my lower body. The burning quickly gets more intense, then shifts into a bone-deep fatigue, and my rhythm falters as the aftereffects of the game finally catch up to me.
I had more ice time than anyone else on the team tonight, and while I didn’t take any unexpected or hard hits, I delivered a few, and I won’t be able to keep up this pace for long now that it’s all catching up to me.
Abruptly, I pull out of West, and he lets out a surprised cry when I drag his sweats and underwear down his legs, then work them over his feet so I can toss them onto the floor. Then I plant one hand on the bed and lean over him so I can reach the restraint on his wrists.
He doesn’t fight as I loosen one of the loops, and his breathing hitches when I pull one of his hands free.
Then I sort of roll off him and flop onto the bed. It’s not a pretty or even a coordinated move, but it does what I need it to, and I land on my back beside him.
“What the—” He cuts himself off with a little squeal of surprise when I grab him around the waist and haul him over so he’s lying on top of me.
We’re face-to-face again, but I’m still wearing my mask, and he isn’t averting his eyes, so I assume it’s either too dark for himto see clearly under my hood or he’s enjoying the full effects of the mask.
