Ice Games
Page 34

 Jessica Clare

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“A man loves to hear flattery,” he said, grinning. He remained stock still as I touched him, though. Probably afraid that reaching for me would scare me off. Probably right.
I ran a hand down his arm, admiring it. The muscles in his biceps were incredibly well-defined, and even his forearms seemed strong—a thick vein tracing through his arm. There was a dusting of light hair on his lower arm leading to his hand, and I lightly ran my fingers along his skin. “No tattoos?”
“Nah. My managers wanted to give me a squeaky-clean image. No tatts, no piercings, no wild stuff, nothing.” He gave an ironic laugh. “Guess how that worked out for me.”
“Not well?” I said teasingly, and spread my fingers as I placed my hands flat against his pectorals. They were two well-defined flat muscles here, and I brushed my thumbs over his nipples, wondering if he was as sensitive there as I was.
His cock twitched in response. I guessed yes, he was.
I smoothed a hand down his belly. Utterly flat, without a bit of fat to him. There were little ridges for his six pack, though it wasn’t defined quite like a male model’s was. He was just strong and thick all over. Masculine. I decided I liked his chest better than a super-sculpted one.
My hands then went to his big, corded thighs, avoiding his cock…or saving it for last. I squeezed his thigh, and then raked my nails across it. I loved his big thighs. Loved how utterly strong he was. “Do you kickbox?”
“Most MMA fighters do, yeah. It’s a good discipline for leg offense.”
I nodded, sliding my hand over his thigh again. Then I leaned in and pressed my face to his neck, wrapping one arm around his shoulders, breathing in his scent. I wanted to bury myself against his skin, taste him, everything. I licked his shoulder and loved his groan of response. So I did it again, licking hard and then sucking at his skin, even as my nails raked down his thigh again.
I felt his cock jerk against my belly, felt the low groan in the back of his throat. And then I wanted to touch all of him. My hand slid downward, and I hesitantly touched his cock with my fingertips.
“That’s right, baby,” he encouraged, and his hand stroked my back. “Touch me.”
I grazed him again, and then grew bolder and wrapped my hand around his length. He was thick, my fingertips barely touching as I circled him. I squeezed, fascinated by the feel of him. His skin was velvety soft, and scorching hot, but underneath, he was rock hard. Fascinating…and delicious. I gave him a hesitant pump with my hand.
He groaned, his mouth seeking mine, and he claimed my mouth with a hard, possessive kiss that I loved. I moaned against his mouth, my fingers sliding over his cock again, tracing the head. Pre-cum was beaded there again, and I dragged my fingers through it, and then spread it around the crown in little circling motions.
Ty pushed against my hand, his hips flexing, and I felt him cup my breast again, rolling the nipple against his thumb over and over again. My moans became pants, and I gripped him tighter, stroking him again even as his mouth plundered mine. This was so incredibly erotic that I felt close to coming from simply touching him and having him play with my breast.
When I pumped a third time, though, his hand went to cover mine. “No, baby,” he told me in a soft voice, breaking our deep, intense kiss. “You’re going to make me come, and I want to be inside you for that.”
I nodded, leaning in for another kiss.
This time, though, he pressed a quick one to my mouth and then shifted on the bed. “Lie on your back. I want to taste you again.”
I quivered at the thought. Wanting to taste me could only mean one thing. I moved my legs and fell back onto the mattress, and then I clamped my knees together again as he moved over me.
Ty leaned in to give me a kiss, and then began to trail his mouth down my body. Kisses were pressed on my breasts, my stomach, my belly-button—and then he went further south. His hands gently nudged my knees apart, and I spread for him, hesitant at first. At further nudging, I opened wider, and he dropped off the side of the bed, pulling me toward him, where he knelt on the floor. My hips were on the edge of the bed, and my legs dangled over the side. As I watched, Ty lifted one of my thighs and placed it over his shoulder, then the other.
Then, he gave me a wicked, wicked look before leaning in and burying his face in my pussy.
I sucked in a hard breath, shocked by the feel of him down there. I didn’t know how to process it at first. It was too intimate. He moved his head a little, and I felt his tongue stroke along my clit, and a ripple of pleasure moved over me. Oh…that was pretty good.
Ty must have noticed my twitching in silence. He lifted his head and glanced up at me. “How we doing?”
“Not bad.”
“Not bad?” He raised an eyebrow, and then chuckled. “I know a challenge when I see one.”
And his head descended between my legs again. His tongue stroked over my clit again, this time slow and sensual, and then he licked again. The pressure changed a little, and I squirmed against him. His hand clamped down on my hip, holding me in place, and then he continued to do the same motion, licking a little harder, and then faster.
Oh…that was…yeah. That was actually feeling really damn good. My hips rolled of their own accord, and I couldn’t help the moan that escaped my throat. He changed it up a little, sucking on my clit in a way that felt totally different, but equally good, and I squirmed. “Ty…”
“Yeah, baby?” I felt his hand shift and move between my legs, and then his finger pressed at the entrance of my core.
“I need…more. I think.” My hands clenched at the blankets, desperate to hold on to something.
“I’m going to give you more, Zara. Don’t worry.” His husky voice was as erotic as his touch, and I shuddered in response. One thick finger pressed into me, and I whimpered, this time not entirely with pleasure. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he told me. “Let me know if I hurt you.”
Right now I didn’t care if he hurt me. I just wanted him to put his mouth on my clit again. So I said, “I’m good.”
He pushed in and out with his finger, and I sucked in a breath, because that was a different sort of sensation than his mouth on my clit, but it was still good. It made me want to clamp down around him, lock my legs behind his back and hold him there. Ty pushed again and then his mouth was back on my clit, feasting once more.
I moaned when he pushed deep, and then it felt like he had two fingers inside me, and the stretching, pinching sensation happened again. I opened my mouth to complain, but he sucked on my clit, distracting me. His tongue was working rapidly, and the fingers drove in and out of me, harder and faster. An orgasm was building, just on the edges of my consciousness. I clung to the blankets, my hips raising. “Don’t stop,” I told him. “Don’t stop.”
The bastard stopped.
I whimpered a protest, but then he was moving over me, coming to press another kiss on my mouth.
“You doing okay, Zara?”
“No,” I whined, clinging to his neck. “You fucking stopped, and I was so close.”
He chuckled and pressed another kiss to my mouth. “I’ll get you there again, I promise. I’m going to get condoms. Be right back.” He detangled from my needy grasp and sprinted to the bathroom.
Ty returned a moment later, smoothing a condom over his cock. I barely had time to glimpse it before his body was pressing onto mine again, and my arms gleefully stroked his back, caressing him. My mouth sought his, and he gave me another open-mouth kiss, our tongues tangling even as he shifted, moving his body between my legs and spreading my thighs wide with his hand. This time I went easily, hopefully, desperate to get relief. I wanted that orgasm.