by Dani Collins
“Spread your legs. Spread ’em wide so I know you want me there.”
“Can’t I just say it?” she protested helplessly, chest tight.
“Show me.” He slid down a little, still balanced on his elbows while his wide hands took each of her breasts, squeezing gently, just enough to make her nipples stand up high on the plump flesh like cherries on a sundae. He licked and swirled and teased, making her hips shift under the weight of him.
Part of her instinctively wanted to press her thighs closed, to ease the yearning ache between, but somehow they fell open. Giving him lots of space.
He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Wider—Yeah. Like that.” He made a noise that was ancient and avid as he got his shoulders between her thighs and splayed her flesh again with his finger and thumb.
When his mouth came down, the sensation was so sharp she jolted. His touch on her firmed, pinning her thighs open while he laved at her clit with his tongue. As she grew hotter and wetter, two thick fingers invaded. She clenched herself on them, neck arched as she moaned. It was so good, acutely good. She started to think she couldn’t bear it and tried to catch his hair in her fist but it was too short.
He lifted his mouth, but she felt his breath on her pulsing flesh as he spoke. “I’ll stop if you want me to. Always.” She’d never heard that deep a rasp in his voice, though, like he was drugged or something. It nearly pulled her over the edge. “But I can feel how tight your pussy is gripping my fingers. You’re so close you’re going to snap. Let me give you this.”
She sobbed and opened her hand on the back of his head, urging him back to her needy, molten center—
He rocked his fingers inside her and sucked on her clit and gave her such a shattering orgasm her whole body twisted and she nearly screamed. He held her down and kept the contractions going as he fucked her with his fingers and made love to her with his mouth. Thrilling her. Pleasuring her. In control of her, but giving her all she needed in that moment.
When the storm began to abate and she was limp muscles and panting breaths, he rose to tear off his shirt, then settled beside her, gaze hot and pleased, smug maybe. There was something tender there, too, beneath the scorching heat.
“Thank you.” The backs of his fingers smoothed the outside of her breast. “I needed to know I could give you that.”
Baggage from his own past? She didn’t let it intrude too much, just traced the pattern of hair on his chest, finding his dark nipples needle sharp. “Does that mean I can be in charge now?”
“Oh, fuck, no. I’m just getting started.” He took her hands and stretched her out beneath him, this time letting her feel all of him. His gaze stayed locked on hers, checking in, making sure she was with him.
When she pulled at her wrists, it was a test of his grip, not resistance to it. She didn’t know why she found his hold exciting. Probably because she could see from his smile that he was playing. Teasing. He was strong enough to restrain her, if he wanted to, but all she had to say was, “No,” and he would let her go.
He wasn’t pushing her to accept him. He was teaching her she could trust him when he was in control. She was pushing herself to trust beyond what was comfortable for her. She wouldn’t have done it with anyone else, only him. It was exhilarating to feel so sure of him, to be able to let go of misgivings and simply enjoy. Feel.
“Fuck me,” she said, more to see if she could disarm him.
His hold on her wrists tightened and his pupils exploded so his eyes were pure liquid black. “I will,” he promised in a voice that was leather and velvet and danger and promise. “But you know I’m big. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I can take you,” she reminded him.
His nostrils twitched. “When you’re hot and wet enough, yeah.” He rolled away and stood, took a condom from the nightstand.
“You don’t have to—”
“Just to be sure. And I gotta slow myself down, babe.” His smirk was self-deprecating as he stripped his jeans and shorts.
He was big. His cock was thick and long, jutting out dark and hard from a black nest, fluid sitting on the tip. He rubbed it into his skin, then gave his cock a few lazy strokes, eyes on her, before he began rolling on the condom.
She cupped herself, exploring her own wetness and how sensitized her flesh was after the abrasion of his beard. When he only stood over her and watched, she crooked her knee open. “I’m ready.”
“Roll over. On your knees.”
“I can take you,” she insisted.
He only shoved a hand under her hip and flipped her. She started to come up on her elbows and he was already kneeling behind her, hot shaft nestled in the crack of her butt while his muscled thighs got between hers and his knees shoved hers apart.
“Bossy,” she accused.
“Trying to be a gentleman and take it easy on you.”
That made her laugh, but then he shifted and the wide dome of his head was at her entrance, pressing inexorably. Oh, he was so hard. She held very still, liking the stretch, but a little intimidated. She had forgotten that they’d worked up to her taking all of him and there was good reason. He only gave her the tip and a couple of inches and she was shivering with reaction. Full and excited, but nervous.
“Come here. I want to hold you.” He drew her up off her hands, one arm across her chest, the other hand open on her abdomen, then skimming down to her mound.
Her knees were splayed open over his, stretching the muscles down the insides of her thighs. As her weight came up, his cock shoved into her a little more, making her react with a squeeze of her thighs against his bent legs. He was strong and immovable. His tense belly was a wall against her ass, his arms straining to hold her up in front of him as they stood on their knees on the bed.
“That’s all for now,” he soothed, nibbling at her nape in a way that had her shivering and clenching on him. He held her pinned in front of him with one iron-hard arm across her front. He fondled each of her breasts in turn with his free hand.
She moaned and twined her arms around his neck, straining to twist and kiss him. The position was athletically challenging, which excited her all the more.
At the same time, the way her front was unprotected left her helpless against the onslaught of his touch. “Your tits look fantastic. You feel so fucking good, all tight around me like that. Feel.”
He guided her hand down to where her taut flesh clung around the intrusion of his thick shaft. She measured what he wasn’t giving her, the base of his hot cock and his tight, heavy balls. He groaned as she explored and caressed.
“I should have done this in front of the mirror. You’re so wet.” He scraped his teeth on her nape and sawed his fingertip against her clit. “Show me how you like it.”
She covered his hand and played his touch over the bundle of nerves, body pinned to his so she could hardly breathe, only squirm in delight as her arousal grew to a fever pitch.
His thick cock was a hard pressure that accentuated the sensations. She could only rock in abbreviated pulses of her hips, but even that was becoming too good. She was going to tip over the edge and wanted to savor this. She stopped touching herself, trying to fight back the crisis, but he continued stroking her, forcing her higher. She was in a vise of pleasure, grinding with need against his lap, wanting more of him, more, more—
She bucked as an orgasm took her again, wracking her with shudders of ecstasy.
He kept stroking her, waiting until the pulses began to abate before he bent her forward again, one hand on the mattress, the other arm still supporting her. She dropped her hands to hold herself up and arched her back, pushing her ass into him so every last inch of him was inside her while she continued shivering with ecstasy.
Finally, he began to pump himself into her. Thrusting with subdued power, skin damp enough to cause hot friction against hers. “Tell me if that’s too much.”
She groaned in luxury, hands fisting in the blankets, barely able to speak but letting her body do
the talking as she met each of his heavy thrusts with a shove of her body into his.
“Don’t stop,” she gasped.
He didn’t. Not even when she was tense and keening and thought she couldn’t handle the concentration of pleasure. By then he was slapping his hips into her ass, big hands holding her steady for his meaningful thrusts. She flung her hair back from her face, wild, never wanting this to end. Glorying in this primordial act.
“Come,” he commanded, shifting only a tiny bit to tilt her hips and open her legs a little more, so the sensations were a fraction more intense, the ultimate pleasure impossible to avoid.
She buried her scream into the tangled blanket beneath her while he drove himself deep and held there, entire body shuddering with the force of his climax while her own turned her inside out and left her completely, undeniably, his.
Chapter Thirteen
Nate’s phone alarm went off at six, same as every morning. Today, however, another body shifted on the mattress. The scent of sex wafted from the covers as he moved to silence the depth-sounder ping that was his alarm tone.
When he turned back, Ilke was facing him, covers pulled up under her chin, blonde lashes blinking over sleepy blue eyes.
“I have to go to work. I didn’t get my reading done last night.” He had no regrets, but screwing each other’s brains out hadn’t changed the fact they occupied two very different, very busy worlds.
“You’re the first man I’ve ever slept with.”
“Yeah?” He probably shouldn’t have thought that strange since he’d only made a habit of sleeping with one other person himself, but still. It was kind of sweet.
“I didn’t think I’d like it. I like my space.”
“And?”
“It’s nice.” Her foot slid across to rest on his, toes curling in a little caress near his ankle.
She had given herself to him without reserve last night, blowing his mind even more than the first time. Yet somehow that little bit of footsie and her pleasure in waking to find him beside her was so impactful, his throat locked up.
He set his hand on the side of her neck where he could feel the throb of her pulse against the heel of his palm. He wanted to make love to her again. That’s pretty much all he wanted to do, ever, since words didn’t seem enough for the emotions she provoked in him. He didn’t know how to make the rest of their lives work, but here, between the sheets, this was utter perfection.
“Go back to sleep if you want. I have to shower.” If he couldn’t stay here with her, it would be nice to at least know she was still in his bed.
“I thought you showered last night?” She tried for innocence, but he saw the slyness digging in at the corners of her smile.
“Dog’s gonna hump my leg if I go down to breakfast smelling like this much sex.”
She laughed and slid close, snuggling her naked softness into his growing wood. “I could shower with you.”
“Probably defeats the purpose, but sure. Let’s see what we can figure out.”
*
They had agreed that things weren’t light and easy, but spent the week pretending that’s exactly how things were. They had glorious amounts of sex and slept spooned, waking naked and having sex again without asking what it meant. They met for workouts and dinners, never talking about anything heavy or worrisome.
Ilke’s holding pattern was beginning to make her stir crazy, though. She was determined to be ready for pre-season, even if she didn’t know what that would look like, and bought a used pair of cross-country skis in town. She worked on getting her legs back by going out every day for a couple of hours with Lina or anyone else she could find since Nate had warned her against skiing alone. The bears would be waking soon and the wolves and cats were shy, but they left tracks.
As long as she put in a few hours with Vivien or the lodge, her room and meals were covered. Her budget for camps and coaching and technicians was pretty tight, though, at least until she got back on the circuit and hopefully started winning, so she kept running different budgets. Lots of low-end training? Or pay for a week of premium coaching at a top-shelf resort that had just opened up? That meant a flight to Sweden, accommodation…
Argh. She wished Nate was here to talk it over with her.
He had Aiden tonight, though. She was spending the day with them tomorrow, but they had agreed it would be better for Aiden if he had his dad to himself tonight.
Actually, Ilke had suggested it and Nate had very promptly agreed.
Very promptly.
Which meant that instead of looking up flight costs, she was sitting here full of heartache because Nate had agreed.
What sort of role did she want in Nate’s life that she was disappointed in the one she had? She had no right to complain. They were friends-with-benefits. He was like no one else in her life, listening to her frustrations and sharing his own. Or not. They talked or they didn’t and it was always comfortable. He made her laugh with his dry asides, and the sex! New Year’s Eve had not been an anomaly of hormones. They were made for each other.
Which made her hesitate to dip into her savings to book a flight. There was also a strength and conditioning trainer in Austria who might consider taking her on. He was very well-known and reputable, which was why his schedule had been booked out a year ago. So far, he had only agreed to meet with her as a courtesy. To offer some tips. Showing up would go a long way to proving to him how serious she was, making it more likely he would take her on as a client. She was serious. She needed this.
But Europe was a long way away and she couldn’t afford the time or the cost to chase the wrong horse.
Ask Rolf, Nate had said again the other night. At least for advice. That’s free, right?
She was growing tempted. Desperate, even, but Rolf was still in Germany. Trigg was supposed to be on his way back here, but she had no intention of taking any funding he might offer. Earning a sponsorship from Wikinger was one thing. Of course, if she really wanted to ski, she wouldn’t have reservations in how she made it happen.
Well, if she really wanted it, she would already be back in Sweden, working out at a local gym if nothing else.
She did really want it. She also wanted to be here. With Nate.
Oh, no. She buried her face in her hands. She was doing it. Letting a man pull her off course.
As if on cue, someone knocked on her exterior door with a muffled thump, as if he wore gloves. “It’s me,” Nate said.
She scrambled off the bed and opened up. Murphy immediately tried to come in.
She shoved her thigh into the crack to stop him while Nate said, “We’re taking a sled down to the base. Rolf needs me to get some info off a couple of the drawings from the original resort and send it to him. Wanna come?”
“In the dark,” a little voice said. Aiden turned from peering through the rails. He was in his snowsuit, boots and mittens on, and held ski goggles against his face that were far too big for him. The better to protect his big, brown eyes, she supposed.
It was a clear sky with a fat moon. The world was a landscape of slate blue, still and cold enough her nose was already tingling, sniffing that dry, frosted air.
“Will there be room for me? Where does Murphy sit?”
Aiden giggled. “He runs beside.”
“Oh. All right. I’ll meet you downstairs as soon as I put warmer pants on.”
Nate and Aiden were sitting on the running snowmobile when she got down to the parking lot. The headlights were on, Aiden perched in front of Nate. Nate was tightening the goggles over the boy’s hood.
“Thank you,” she said as she snuggled in behind him.
“It’s a trick,” he said. “I’ll be a few minutes and he’s already asking about building a snowman.”
“Joke’s on you. I love building snowmen.”
Nate kept his speed down, but it didn’t take long to get there. The security guard came outside as soon as he heard the sled coming. Nate went inside with him while she rolled snowballs wi
th Aiden. The snow was too dry to stick properly, though. They amused themselves by throwing loose clumps in the air and watching Murphy jump to try to catch them in his teeth.
It made them both laugh and she didn’t know what made her happier—the kid, the dog, the snow sparking in the moonlight, or all of it put together.
What if this was her life? Playing with Nate’s child? Children? Not that he’d suggested he wanted such a thing. But what if he did? Was she prepared to give up her dream?
The air she drew into her lungs with the next breath was so cold it made her ache like her whole body was an ice cream headache.
She had never had anything beyond skiing, so it hadn’t been hard to stay motivated and focused. This break from the grind was easy to get used to. It was easy. If she truly wanted an Olympic medal, however, she had to work for it. Put aside everything. Physical comfort, friendships, a silly night of throwing snowballs for a dog while a little boy cheered. Winning was hard.
But the fire for it still burned inside her. Want. A voice in her head warned her she didn’t have time to waffle and waste. She would see results if she put the work in. Hurry, hurry.
Maybe.
She had never doubted her ability. From the time she began skiing, she’d been told she was a natural. When the heat was on, she performed at her best. When competitors rose in the ranks alongside her, she measured herself against them and found ways to be better.
When she had walked out of her mother’s house, she had had faith in herself. It had driven her to keep at it despite all the hurdles she had faced.
Standing at the bottom of Whiskey Jack’s ungroomed piste in the dark, dog and child frolicking at her feet, she wanted her confidence back. She wanted to know who she was and where she belonged.
Fear of going through all of that time and effort and grit for nothing was what really held her back from putting up the money and taking another chance at chasing gold. It had nothing to do with Nate or unanswered emails or a desire to play rather than work.