I walk to the kitchen, grab a knife, and carefully tear into the packaging. Inside is the bubble bath he used. The same pricey French brand. It's also got a bottle of body oil, cream, and a small soap all in the same scent. I blink at the contents in awe because I know how much just the bubble bath costs. The sets like this, with shipping, are a hundred bucks or more.
“You… I can’t… it’s too much.”
“It’s not,” he argues. “It’s also a really selfish gift because I love the smell of this junk and I may be hoping to take another bubble bath with it… and you.”
“Well, then.” I smile and place the box on the counter. “Thank you for being a selfish, presumptuous ass.”
He grins so big it’s contagious and I start to grin too. He steps into me again like he did outside, but with the lights on I can see every hard line and sloping curve of his gorgeous, sculpted face. I can see the heated look in his hazel eyes too. His hand reaches up and he brushes his knuckles against the edge of my jaw before his fingers thread into my hair at the back of my neck. They’re chilled and a shiver runs down myspine. “Do you want to take a bubble bath right now? To warm up?”
“That depends,” I say quietly. “Do you have any other boxes with you?”
He looks confused but only for a second and then he smiles. “Actually I do. In my coat pocket. A box of condoms, ribbed for your pleasure.”
“You don’t need help giving me pleasure,” I inform him. “But I appreciate the thoughtfulness.”
He grins at the compliment before crushing his mouth to mine in a toe-curling kiss that has my heart thundering by the time he pulls away. He slips his hand around to cup my cheek and his thumb presses against my lips. “You sure about this? And you’re doing it because you want to, not because you feel bad for the about-to-be ex-professional hockey player?”
He seriously thinks I would pity-fuck him? For real? My expression must reflect my shock and distaste at that idea because his normally cheeky expression grows somber. "I am not some puck bunny, Conner. I don't care if you're the star center or you drive the Zamboni."
“Huh…” His face grows quizzical and then that cheeky smile of his returns. “You just gave me a career plan. I can drive the Zamboni at the rink here when I don’t get picked up. I’ll apply in the morning.”
I know he’s joking so I wrap my arms tightly around his neck and answer him as flippantly as possible. “Cool. How about you thank me for the career advice with an orgasm?”
He doesn’t say another word, and neither do I because we’re locked together in a series of scorching kisses as we make our way to the bedroom. He makes a pit stop to pull the condoms out of his jacket pocket and then drops the box on the night table while we tug each other’s clothes off.
We end up on the bed, under the duvet,Conner’s big, hard body covering mine, hard edges pressing into me in all the right places. His length leaking against my abdomen. He doesn’t rush, though. He keeps kissing me long and slow, his hands moving languidly over my body, playing with my nipples, tickling my stomach, gripping my hips before moving further down and center.
He smirks against my lips. “You are more than ready, princess.”
“So don’t keep me waiting,” I whisper back and swallow down the urge to reprimand him about that stupid nickname he's adopted. It irks me in a way that I enjoy if that makes any sense. Oh, I'll keep telling him to stop using it, but I'll smile inwardly when he ignores me. Not sure what that's about. I don't usually play pointless flirting games like that. He kisses me again, his tongue sliding into my mouth as two of his fingers slide into me and his thumb circles my clit.
“I’m gonna draw this out,” he replies. “But don’t worry. You’re gonna like it.”
And then I feel his body slide down a little and his mouth is on my breasts. Conner licks and sucks and kisses his way across my body and I let him because it feels incredible. Not just the sensations of his wet mouth teasing my nipples or his fingers pushing and curling inside me, but the non-physical feeling is incredible… the feeling of being savored and worshipped. I haven’t felt like this with a man before. Not to this extent.
So when his big body slides even lower, pulling the duvet with him, leaving me exposed, and his hands hit my thighs and push them wider so he can settle between them, I tip my head back into the pillows, and all my inhibitions are evicted from my brain with the gentle pass of his tongue over my pussy. Conner Garrison has an incredibly talented mouth. In minutes I'm twisting the sheet in my hands and my back is arching offthe mattress while I pant. I come apart on his tongue as he grips my thighs to hold me still.
Moments later, as I lie there boneless, I hear the tear of the condom wrapper and my eyes flutter open to see him kneeling between my legs rolling it over his thick shaft. When he’s done he leans over me, his hair hanging in his eyes as he stares down at me with heat blazing in his hazel eyes and positions himself at my entrance. “You want more?”
I manage a smile and reach up and push his hair back. “Bring your A-game, Garrison.”
He chuckles and then pushes into me. I reach up and cup the back of his neck, but he isn’t going to let me pull him down. Instead, he says, “Hold on,” and then pulls me up. The next thing I know, without ever breaking our connection, he’s back on his heels, and I’m straddling his lap, his cock firmly wedged deep inside me.
“Oh god…”
“Tell me about it.” He kisses my neck, sucking hard for a second. “You’re still spasming from that orgasm.”
“Sorry not sorry,” I whisper. “My legs aren’t going to work either.”
“Wrap them around my waist,” he commands and I do. Then he wraps an arm around my back, holding me tight, using his other hand as a prop behind him.
He lifts me a little, letting me drop back down on his dick. And then he does it again, and again, and we're in this perfect rhythm suddenly and I feel another orgasm building for release. It's there but it's just out of reach and I arch my back and he tips his head back and curses. Conner is close. He's within touching distance of his release and then, I catch the sight of us in the full-length mirror on the back of the closed door, which faces the side of the bed. Every muscle in Conner's naked body is flexed, his head tipped back, his back curved, his bicepbulging as it lifts me up, then down, over and over. My tits bounce, my skin is flushed, my hair is as wild as the look in his eye when I catch it in the mirror. He's watching us too, and he's loving it as much as I am. And that's when I come for a second time, harder than the first.
I moan out his name and maybe even black out for a moment because the next thing I know I'm on my back, Conner's body pressing me into the mattress as he cusses against my ear as he comes. After a few minutes, he reaches down, careful to hold the condom as he pulls out of me and pulls himself to his feet a little unsteadily. He huffs out a shaky breath as he pulls off the condom, ties it, and drops it into my wicker wastebasket next to the night table. I watch him with heavy eyes, the feeling finally returning to my limbs after that last orgasm.
“I’m going to the bathroom to run us a bath with your fancy bubbles,” he tells me. “Do not fall asleep.”
I nod. It’s all I can manage. I refuse to let my brain overanalyze what just happened. What we’re doing here, beyond the physical. I just want to enjoy it. It’s been a very long time since a man has made me feel this desirable and valued and I don’t want to steal my own joy away by analyzing this. So I don’t. And when Conner walks back into the bedroom, unabashedly naked, and holds out his hand to pull me up off the bed, I let him.