29 - Michael
Michael
I hunted for a gap in the late-night city traffic as if I were looking for a lane to the net in the dying seconds of a tied game.
My heart was thundering a heavy, rhythmic demand that had nothing to do with the adrenaline of the playoffs and everything to do with the woman sitting in my passenger seat.
Kayla wasn't even pretending to be distracted by Gabe anymore.
She leaned across the center console, her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling my head toward hers every time we hit a red light.
The air in the car was charged with the scent of her perfume and the cool, lingering mist from the rooftop.
"Michael," she breathed against my jaw, her teeth grazing the skin just below my ear. "Where are we going? You're going to get a ticket."
"Let them try to catch me," I growled, my hand tight on her thigh, my thumb hooked into the hem of her silk dress. "We're going to the Grand Hyatt. The team keeps a floor there for the playoffs. It’s five minutes away, and if I don't get you behind a locked door in four, I’m going to lose my mind."
She laughed a rich, breathless sound that vibrated against my throat, and kissed me again, her tongue sliding against mine with a greedy, uncoordinated hunger. We were acting like teenagers, reckless and feral, all the overthinking I was famous for discarded somewhere back on the River Walk.
I pulled into the valet at a clip that definitely raised an eyebrow, but I didn't care. I handed the kid my keys without looking at him, my arm already clamped around Kayla’s waist, pulling her flush against my side.
We stumbled through the lobby, trying to maintain some semblance of decorum, but it was a losing battle.
I leaned over the marble counter, my face a mask of forced, pained stoicism as the night clerk looked up.
"Landry. Suite 1402," I said, my voice sounding like it had been dragged over gravel.
The clerk started to go through the motions of checking my ID, confirming the standing team arrangement, and every second felt like a year.
Behind me, Kayla pretended to adjust her shoe, but her hand was secretly sliding up the back of my thigh, her fingers teasing the hem of my suit jacket.
I nearly jumped out of my skin, my jaw tightening so hard I thought a tooth might crack.
"Here you go, Mr. Landry. Enjoy your stay."
I snatched the key card out of his hand before he could finish the sentence.
"Run," I whispered to her.
We broke into a sprint for the elevators, ducking into the gold-mirrored car just as the doors began to hiss shut. The second we were enclosed, the straight faces evaporated.
I slammed her back against the mirrored wall, my mouth crashing onto hers.
The elevator ride was a blur of hands and heat.
I was groping for the zipper of her dress, her hands were urgently undoing my tie, tossing the silk onto the floor like it was trash.
We were laughing between gasps for air, a light, giddy sound that felt like a release valve finally snapping open.
Ding.
The doors slid open on the fourteenth floor. We didn't even wait for them to fully retract. I grabbed her hand, and we raced down the hallway, our footsteps muffled by the thick carpet.
"Which— which way?" she panted, her hair a wild, beautiful mess around her face.
"Fourteen... zero... two!"
I fumbled with the key card, my fingers shaking with an urgency I hadn't felt in a decade. I swiped it wrong once. Red light.
"Dammit.”
"Michael, hurry," she urged, her hands sliding under my shirt, her nails raking over my ribs.
I swiped again. Green.
I kicked the door open and we tumbled inside, the heavy wood slamming shut behind us with a finality that made my blood sing.
We didn't even make it three feet before we were back at it.
I was pulling my shirt over my head, buttons popping and hitting the floorboards like hail.
Kayla was stepping out of her heels, kicking them into the shadows, her hands already working on my belt.
We stumbled through the dark suite, our bodies never losing contact. I bumped into a heavy mahogany armchair, swearing under my breath as I nearly tripped, but Kayla just caught me, pulling me back into a kiss that tasted like wine and pure, unadulterated want.
"The bed," she whispered, her voice an absolute command. "Michael, the bed."
I didn't even look for it. I just felt for the edge of the mattress, my hands finding the curve of her hips as I lifted her. We collapsed onto the high-thread-count sheets in a flurry of discarded silk and wool, a chaotic heap of limbs and laughter and heavy, desperate breathing.
I began to kiss her neck, my teeth grazing her skin as I worked my way down to her breasts.
Her breath hitched as I took one of her nipples into my mouth, sucking and biting just hard enough to make her arch her back. God, the way she responded to me… A rush of blood flooded my aching cock, making me harder.
My hands roamed further, slipping under her dress to find the dampness that awaited me.
My fingers teased her through the fabric of her underwear before I tugged them down, exposing her smooth, bare skin.
I could feel her wetness, and the sight of her shivering with excitement only made me want her more.
“I get to look at you now.”
Kayla let out a soft gasp as I spread her legs wide and gazed at her pink pussy.
The lips surrounded by a neatly trimmed thin patch of dark hair that framed the parts of her which were already swollen and slick with arousal.
Her clit peeked out from under its hood, begging for my touch.
I leaned in closer, inhaling the sweet scent of her desire, my heart pounding with excitement.
I gently parted her lips, revealing the delicate pinkness of her inner folds. The hood pulled back slightly, exposing more of the sensitive bud beneath. I took my time, using my thumb to trace lazy circles around it, watching as her body reacted to my every movement.
“I love having your mouth on me,” she said, dragging her fingers through my hair. She undid the loose knot without effort, and tossed my hair tie aside.
Then I kissed her there, right on her clit, a gentle peck that made her whimper with a shiver that raked through her entire body, and I moved my mouth to her entrance. I flicked my tongue over the trembling hole, feeling her body quiver beneath me.
Her opening, a gateway to her most intimate depths, beckoned me closer.
I inserted one finger, then two, feeling her tightness and the heat that radiated from within.
Her pussy clenched around me once, a silent invitation for more.
I knew the key to a woman's pleasure often lay in the gentle dance between teasing and penetration, so I took my time, exploring every inch of her pussy with my fingers.
As horny as I was, I wanted her to enjoy every second of this.
With each stroke, her hips rose to meet me, her breaths becoming shorter and more erratic. She was close, but I didn’t want her to be. Not yet. I slid my fingers out, coated in her wetness, and brought them to her mouth.
"Taste yourself," I whispered, and she obeyed, her eyes never leaving mine. I watched as she licked her juices from my fingers, her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red.
The anticipation was almost too much to bear, but I was a man of patience. I’d spent a lifetime waiting for my break in hockey, and I sure as fuck could wait a few minutes more before having Kayla the way I really wanted. I leaned back, my cock throbbing with need, and pulled her closer.
"Are you ready for me? You feel so fucking ready…" My voice was thick with lust.
She nodded, her eyes never leaving mine, and said, "Yes."
With that one word, I knew it was time to take things to the next level.
I positioned myself at her entrance, the head of my cock nudging against the soft, wet folds of her pussy.
I needed a firm grip to do it, because my hard-on strained so much it refused to stay down.
I took a deep breath, savoring the warmth as I pushed through her wetness, then thrust inside.
Her eyes went wide with a mix of pleasure and surprise as I stretched her open.
Inch by inch, I filled her up, feeling her tightness envelop my shaft like a warm, wet glove.
Her walls clung to me, the sensation of her pussy stretching around my cock sending waves of excitement through my body.
I groaned, my eyes rolling back as I waited for her to adjust to my size.
Her pussy was the tightest I had ever fucked, and I couldn't help but revel in the knowledge that I was the first one here in the longest time. That she’d sent every guy packing but me.
The first few strokes were slow and deliberate, giving her time to take in the fullness of my length. Her nails dug into my back, her body tensing as I pushed deeper and deeper still.
“God, Michael…” Her pussy wrapped around me like a vice.
“I know,” I said, stroking her thigh. “I know.”
I watched her face, reading her every reaction, ensuring she was with me every step of the way.
Her eyes squeezed shut as she bit her lower lip, her breaths coming in gasps as she adjusted to the sensation of my thick cock inside her pussy.
Her walls clenched and fluttered dangerously around me, threatening to hurtle me over the edge far sooner that I’d planned.
As I picked up the pace, her hips moved with me, her body responding to the rhythm I set.
The wetness of her pussy coated me, making the thrusting easier, smoother.
I felt the tension building in her body, her muscles tightening around my shaft as the crescendo of her climax swelled.
I reached down to squeeze her nipples, rolling them between my thumb and forefinger to elicit a moan that sent a jolt of pleasure straight to my cock.