Page 89 of Icebound Hearts
Sawyer fucks me through it, slowing down gradually as my orgasm passes, and when I can finally breathe again, he sits up abruptly and buries his face between my breasts. With his arms wrapped tightly around my waist to hold me in place, he groans raggedly against my chest as he releases inside me, filling me.
I feel a bit of his cum leaking out of me when he pulls his face away, panting for breath and smiling at me. A breathless, giddy laugh pours out of me in a hushed whisper, and Sawyer chuckles too as he cups the back of my head, our foreheads resting together.
When I finally lean back a little, Sawyer arches a brow, then takes the clamps’ chain in his teeth and looks up at me devilishly. I already know what he’s going to do, but when he pulls his head back sharply, it still shocks and overwhelms me into another spontaneous orgasm.
I bury my face in the space between Sawyer’s neck and shoulder to keep from screaming and stay there until my pussy stops rippling around his cock, making more of his cum spill out from between us. When I drag in a shuddering breath, Sawyer turns his head to nip at my earlobe, dragging it between his teeth.
“That was way better than the painkillers the Aces medical staff gave me,” he says, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Thank you, heartbreaker.”
I giggle softly, keeping my face buried against his neck as I inhale his warm, comforting scent. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
One large hand comes up to stroke the back of my head, his fingers threading through my hair. “I am now.”
Chapter 29
Sawyer
It’s been almost a week since that asshole on the Cyclones checked me, but with every step I take on the stairs as I head down to the kitchen, my ribs still ache a bit.
It’s late at night, and Violet is waiting for me at the bottom, smiling playfully with her hair tousled and her face flushed from the orgasm I just gave her. I know that the nearly ten years in age difference between us isn’tthatmassive, but with my injury, I feel a bit like the old man she jokingly called me. Thankfully, I’ve been cleared to resume playing, which makes me feel less like an invalid.
When I step off the stairs, Violet reaches out to brush her fingers over the fading bruises on my side. “It’s looking a lot better.”
I grin at her. “I’ve had a good nurse taking care of me.”
She snorts, arching a brow at me. “I don’t know about that. In fact, Coach Dunaway would probably be pissed at me if he knew just how bad I’ve been at getting you to take it easy.”
Her cheeks flush adorably as she speaks, and I wonder if she’s thinking about the particularly athletic round of sex we just had. She’s right that I haven’t been taking it as slow as I usually would when healing from an injury, but I’ve got no regrets.
“Nah, he wouldn’t be mad at you, heartbreaker,” I murmur, tugging her close and kissing her, just because I can. “Now, me? That’s a different story. But you? I don’t see how anyone could be mad at you."
She threw on an oversized t-shirt before we headed downstairs, and I can’t resist slipping my hand beneath it to squeeze her ass. She smiles at me, then wriggles out of my arms and heads into the kitchen, her ass swaying enticingly and her lightly tanned legs on full display.
I groan as I watch her walk away, and she laughs quietly. I know she’s teasing me, but I don’t even care. I’d let that woman dance around on my bruises if she wanted.
When I trail into the kitchen after her, I find her standing in front of the fridge looking sexy and relaxed. Her hands are wound up in her sex-mussed hair, and she’s trying to twist it into a bun—but it must not be going well, because she sighs in frustration and drags her fingers through it to undo it.
“Ugh. I like to twist it up to get it out of the way, but I’ve never been good at doing buns.” She makes a face. “My hair is too soft or something, it always falls right out of the bun.”
“Want me to try?” I ask, and she raises an eyebrow at me.
“Do you know how?”
“It can’t be rocket science, right? Come here,” I say, beckoning her toward me.
Wearing a teasing smile, she walks over to me and spins around so I can reach her.
Admittedly, I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, but I’veseenbuns before, and they look pretty simple, so I feel like I should be able to figure it out.
I gather her hair up and then twist it, creating one long rope before trying to wind the rope into a circular shape. It seems like it’s working… at first. But then everything starts to fall apart, the silky strands of her hair slipping free from the twist. I try tosalvage it, but by the time I’m done, it looks less like a bun and more like—well, nothing.
Violet laughs, craning her neck to look back at me as I stare at her hair in bewilderment.
“Told you,” she says, still chuckling softly. “It’s not as easy as it looks. My hair is too… I don’t know, slippery or something. It’s fine, I’ll just leave it down.”
I turn her around to face me, tugging a lock of her hair between my fingers. “You say slippery, I say silky. I love how soft your hair is. And it smells so fucking good.”
I lift it to my nose, inhaling the cherry and almond scent that I’ve come to associate only with her. She lets me indulge my addiction for a moment, watching me from beneath her long lashes, and when I let the lock of hair fall back around her shoulders, she turns to the fridge and opens it.