1. Riley #3
She leaned closer, catching his mouth while the table groaned beneath them. Graham kissed her back without trying to reverse their positions. He drove his hips up to meet her downward thrusts, one hand sliding higher along her side before gripping her ass when the narrow surface shifted under them.
“You’re enjoying this,” he said against her mouth.
“You made me wait.”
“That sounds like revenge.”
“It is.”
His laugh disappeared into another kiss.
Riley kept moving, riding him hard and refusing to let him distract her from the pace she wanted.
The office had narrowed to the rough cadence of the table, the wet slapping of their bodies, Graham’s hands holding her steady, and the look on his face every time she chose the next movement without asking permission.
Outside the office, the heater kicked through another cycle. The sound belonged to some other world now, along with the basement apartment, the rent envelope, and the stack of cheap ramen waiting in their cupboard. Those things would still be there tomorrow.
Graham was here now, filling her completely.
His fingers tightened on her hips when her rhythm faltered. “Don’t stop.”
“I’m not stopping.”
“Then take what you want.”
Riley braced one hand against his shoulder, riding him hard until they were both too breathless to speak. Graham’s focus remained fixed on her, stripped of the restless ambition he had worn beside the sharpening bench. No leagues. No scouts. No map waiting beyond this building.
Only them.
“Riley,” he said, her name roughened by effort.
She shook her head once. “Stay with me.”
“I’m right here.”
The answer undid whatever restraint she had left. Riley rode him fiercely, losing herself in the rhythm until the worn little office faded into nothing but the creak of vinyl and Graham’s hands keeping her balanced.
“I’m close,” she managed.
“Then don’t fight it. Let go.”
Riley did.
The tension finally broke, her clit throbbing as an explosive climax ripped through her.
Her wet pussy clamped down hard, milking his thick cock with violent, squeezing pulses.
The release hit hard enough that she folded toward him, catching his shoulders while Graham held her tight.
His own control broke a moment later. He arched up, driving his shaft high into her tight heat, his voice dropping into a ragged groan of her name as he pumped hot, thick spurts of his cum deep inside her.
Their wet, frantic rhythm faded, his softening cock still buried inside her.
For a few seconds, neither of them moved.
Riley folded forward until her forehead rested near the base of Graham’s neck.
The table gave a final, tired creak beneath their weight before going still, while the office seemed to remember how cold it was.
Sweat cooled along her shoulders, but Graham wrapped his arms around her before she could reach for the clothes scattered nearby.
“You want your coat?” he asked.
“Not yet.”
His hand moved over her bare skin in an easy pass, then returned to the same spot between her shoulders. Riley stayed tucked against him while the heater sputtered somewhere beyond the office doorway, too far away to help much.
“You’re going to complain about this table tomorrow,” Graham said.
“I’m complaining about it now.”
“Fair.”
“And my back is going to hate you.”
“That part sounds less fair.”
A laugh worked out of her before she could stop it, weak from exhaustion but real. Graham kissed the side of her head, then rested his cheek against her hair as if neither of them had anywhere else to be.
The bills would still be waiting in their apartment.
Rent would still be due. There would still be skates to sharpen, lumber to haul, and meals stretched farther than either of them wanted to admit.
None of it had vanished just because they were sitting half-dressed on a worn physio table in an empty rink.
We can handle it.
That certainty came easily with his arms around her.
Riley shifted closer, stealing what warmth she could from his chest. His fingers traced a single line down her back and stopped before he could grow restless. For once, Graham wasn’t talking about scouts, leagues, or how far he planned to go.
He was just holding her.
After a while, his mouth brushed her temple. “Every hit I take on that ice is to build our future, I swear to God. I’m pulling us both out of here.”
Riley closed her eyes against his shoulder. The words sounded larger than the office, larger than the chipped concrete outside, larger than the basement apartment waiting for them across town. Graham always spoke about the future as though he could force it into shape through work alone.
She didn’t need him to promise her a skyline.
“I know we are,” she said. “Just don’t let me go yet. Keep me right here for a few more minutes.”
His arms tightened around her by degrees, enough to answer before he spoke. He pressed another kiss into her hair, slower this time.
“I’m not going anywhere. You mean everything to me, Riley.”
The heater coughed in the next room. Somewhere farther down the arena corridor, metal shifted as the building cooled for the night, but Graham made no move toward the clothes or the door. Riley stayed against him and believed every word.