High sticking, he reminded himself. Icing. Hooking. Holding. Hand pass. Fuck it, why did all the penalties sound totally f**king dirty when he needed them to keep his mind off of sex? He forced himself to concentrate on teams, instead. Montreal Habs. Los Angeles Kings. Vancouver Canucks…
When he was safe from going over the edge again, he grasped her breast and teased the nipple, thrusting his other finger deeper into her wet pu**y. She was hot and slick with need, and her moans turned quickly to gasps. He moved his mouth back down to her pu**y, flicking his tongue against her clit in time with the thrust of his finger, and when she began to quiver hard, he added a second finger, twisting them and repeatedly thrusting them into her wet sex, mimicking the f**king he was dying to give her.
It didn’t take long for her to go over again. She started to tense under him, her muscles clenching as if she were preparing for the next orgasm, when suddenly her entire body stiffened and she sucked in a long, deep breath. Her pu**y contracted—hard—against his fingers, and he smiled against her clit. He gave it one last, long lick.
“That’s two.”
She looked up at him, dazed, the look on her face utterly blissful. “Holy…shit.”
Damn. He loved her expression, the way she hid nothing. Dane let her legs slide down to his sides, and he leaned forward and kissed her deeply, liking that her mouth was so soft and giving under his own. She was boneless with her orgasms, soft and sated and warm. He’d give her one more so she’d know he wasn’t full of shit…and because he wanted to hear that soft, throaty cry when she came a third time. He could listen to that sound forever.
He quickly divested himself of his shorts and underwear, releasing his cock, aching hard under the need to come deep inside her. Pre-cum covered the head, and it throbbed with need. His entire body throbbed with need.
Miranda’s gaze went to his c**k and she reached for it, her fingertips brushing against the damp crown. “Can I—”
He hissed, dangerously close to spilling himself, and pulled her hand away. Icing. Icing. Had to think about icing. “Give me two seconds, Miranda, and you can have all of me that you want.” He pulled a condom out of his pocket and rolled it down his shaft quickly, then took a deep breath. He needed to pace himself if he was going to make her come again, and not bust as soon as he sank deep into her. Normally he had no trouble with control, but Miranda did something to his insides, where he lost all his macho swagger and became this addicted fool who lived to see her smile, to see that expression when she came…
Slow was the key here. Slow and steady.
He spread her legs wide, his hands caressing her soft, pale thighs and pushing them forward so that her feet were up in the air, her hips tilted at the perfect angle. With one hand on her thigh, the other guiding his cock, he fed the head of his c**k into her tight, wet heat.
Miranda let out a cry, her hips bucking, trying to pull him in deeper. “Oh God.”
“Just hold still,” he told her, teeth gritting. She was clamping around him so tight. So hot and wet and so very tight. Sweat beaded on his brow, and he sank another inch into her, slowly. Carefully. One massive thrust and he’d lose it. Spill inside her and never give her that third orgasm.
With gritted teeth, he ignored Miranda’s breathless response and fed her several more inches, moving excruciatingly slowly. Icing. Icing. New Jersey Devils. Atlanta Thrashers. Wait, Atlanta was sold—
“So full,” she said, interrupting his wild internal monologue. “God, it feels—”
“Shh,” he told her, a hair trigger away from losing control. “Miranda, just hold on.”
She moaned underneath him and he felt her pu**y flutter tight around his c**k again.
His control snapped. He rocked forward and impaled himself in her to the hilt.
Her gasp as she arched underneath him was f**king beautiful. She gave a soft little whimper, lifting her knees and tucking her hands tight behind them to pull her legs close to her chest. Her posture pulled him deeper, her pu**y tight and wet around him. He held still, on the verge of losing it, doing his damnedest to maintain control. After a moment, he pulled out, slowly, then buried himself to the hilt inside her again, the long sweeping stroke of his c**k plunging deep inside her. Her gasp turned into a throaty moan, and her fingers clenched on his shoulders, nails digging in. Fuck, where had the Atlanta team moved to…
“Oh God,” she whispered, her eyes closed with the intensity of sensation. “So deep…”
Oh, f**k Atlanta. He pulled out and drove into her again, noticing that this time, she raised her hips to meet his thrust, and gave another trilling moan as he sank into the hot, tight depths. He drove into her again, and then again.
Each time, she rose to meet him. Her hips slammed against his, intense and powerful, as if he couldn’t get deep enough to satisfy her. He moved hard against her, pounding deep into her core, his hands moving to pin her hips to just the right place. He thrust hard, then circled his hips in a long, languid motion, hoping to hit the right spot.
Her eyes flew open and she gave a stuttering gasp, staring up at him. He felt her calves tense on his shoulders.
Bingo. G-spot.
He thrust again, repeating the motion, rolling his hips until he hit just the right spot and she clenched up against him again, trying desperately to raise her hips. His hands kept them firmly pinned in place, and he gave another sweeping, circling thrust. “Do you like that?”
Miranda’s lip quivered, and she began to say something, but at his next thrust, her words dissolved into a choked scream.
“What was that?” he teased between gritted teeth, about to come just from her reaction. So intense on her beautiful face. “I couldn’t hear you.”
Her hands suddenly clenched on his, her ankles digging into his shoulders. “Harder,” she gritted. “Please, Dane.”
He didn’t need to be asked twice. He thrust again, rocking her backward on the crinkling blanket, and was rewarded with another stuttering gasp of delight. Again, and again, and then he was pumping into her repeatedly, her hips pinned against his thrusts, her choked cries echoing in the forest as he thrust into her over and over again.
A full-body tremble started and as he drove deep, he watched her arch again, her shoulders rising as she tensed, her mouth working in a silent scream of pleasure. Her pu**y clenched and fluttered around him, hard. Miranda was coming again, and she was f**king beautiful in her abandon. He watched her, thrusting again—once, twice—her pu**y spasming around him, milking him—until he couldn’t stand it any longer.