Chapter 8 Frost #2
That one word, so full of certainty, unravels the last of my control.
I spin her around in the dim light of her bedroom, finally capturing her mouth with mine.
It’s not a gentle kiss. It’s a claim, a promise I intend to keep.
My tongue sweeps into her mouth, tasting her, learning her, memorizing her.
Her hands come up to clutch at my shoulders, her fingers digging into the tight muscle there, holding on like I’m the only solid thing in the world.
I walk her backward until her knees hit the edge of the mattress, and she sits with a soft gasp. Staring down at her, I drink her in. Her lips are already swollen, and her eyes are dark with a hunger that mirrors my own.
I remove my cut and place it on a hook on the back of her door. Reaching over my head, I grip my shirt and yank it off. Hope’s eyes bulge at the sight. I smirk as I watch her eyes roam over the tattoos on my chest and the muscles on my upper body.
“Take off your shirt,” I command, my voice rough.
Her fingers tremble as she obliges, pulling the soft cotton over her head.
Her bra is light lavender, which contrasts beautifully with those gorgeous hazel eyes.
I let my gaze roam over her, hot and possessive, before I kneel, placing myself between her spread knees.
I press an open-mouthed kiss to her stomach, just above the button of her jeans.
She jumps at the contact, a sharp, surprised sound escaping her lips.
“Frost…”
“I’m here, darlin’,” I murmur against her skin, my hands going to the button of her jeans.
I work it open slowly, the rasp of the zipper loud in the quiet room.
I hook my fingers into the waistband of her jeans and panties and pull them down in one agonizingly slow motion.
She lifts her hips to help me, her breath coming in short, eager pants.
I toss the clothing and just look at her, laid bare for me.
Fuck, she’s perfect.
I lean forward, pressing a kiss to the inside of her knee, and then another, a few inches higher.
I take my time, mapping the sensitive skin of her inner thighs with my lips and tongue.
Her muscles quiver under my touch, and I can smell her arousal.
It’s a sweet vanilla scent that drives me wild.
I breathe her in, letting the anticipation build for both of us.
“Please,” she whispers, her voice strained as both hands fist the comforter.
I ignore her, shifting to lavish the same attention on her other thigh. My cock is rock hard, but her pleasure is my focus right now. I need to hear her break.
When my tongue finally, finally flicks against her wet heat, she cries out, a sharp, broken sound. Her back arches off the bed. I hold her hips down, pinning her in place.
“I’ve got you,” I growl before diving in.
My tongue circles her clit, once, twice, before sucking gently. Hope moans a drawn-out sound of pure bliss. I explore every sensitive spot, learning what makes her gasp, what makes her hips buck against my mouth. I slide two fingers inside her, and she clenches around me instantly.
“More,” she begs, her voice cracking. “God, Frost, more.”
I add a third finger, stretching her slowly, my thumb working tight circles on her clit.
Her breath is ragged, her pleas becoming a desperate chant.
I can feel her starting to tighten around my fingers, her body tightening like a coiled spring.
I speed up my thumb, my fingers curling inside her, finding that sweet spot that makes her scream.
She comes with a shattered cry, her body convulsing around my hand, her thighs clamping around my head. I ride out her orgasm with my tongue while my fingers massage her clit until the last tremor subsides.
Before she can even come down, I’m on her, stripping off my jeans, my boxers.
My cock springs free, stiff and leaking.
I pull a condom from my wallet, and in one quick motion, I glide it over the tip until I’m completely covered.
I hover above her, bracing my weight on my arms and look deep into her dazed eyes.
“Look at me, Hope.” She manages to focus on me. “You’re mine.”
I don’t wait for a response as I thrust into her. She is still pulsing from her climax, impossibly tight, and she gasps, her eyes fluttering shut.
“Look at me,” I command again, my voice strained with the effort of holding back.
Her eyes snap open, and I see the surprise, the overwhelming sensation, the raw need.
I pull out almost all the way, watching her face, then sink back into her heat.
I set a punishingly slow rhythm, each thrust a deliberate, measured possession.
In and out, over and over again. Each one deeper than the last. Her nails dig into my biceps, and her head thrashes on the pillow.
“You feel that?” I grind my hips against hers, making sure she feels every inch. “This is forever.”
“Yes,” she sobs as her body begins to move with mine, meeting my slow thrusts. “Frost… please.”
“Please what, darlin’?” I lower my mouth to her breast, sucking a taut nipple through the lace of her bra. “You want me to go faster?”
“Harder,” she begs, her voice a broken whisper. “Please, harder.”
I smile against her skin, a predator’s smile. I give her exactly what she asks for, driving into her with deep, powerful strokes that bang the headboard against the wall. I can feel my own release building, a tidal wave at the base of my spine.
“Come for me, Hope,” I growl into her ear, my pace becoming frantic, desperate. “Come all over my cock. Show me you’re mine.”
That’s all it takes as her second orgasm crashes over her, a silent scream on her lips as her entire body tightens around me, milking me, pulling my own climax from me. I shout her name as I spill into the condom. My thrusts slow to deep, satisfying pulses as I empty myself inside her.
I collapse onto her, careful to keep my weight on my elbows, our hearts hammering against each other in perfect rhythm. I press my forehead against hers, our breath mingling. I can feel the sweat cooling on my skin.
After a few minutes, I head to her en suite to dispose of the condom.
I find a washcloth under the sink and warm it up before heading back to her bed.
She has the sheet pulled up to her chin by the time I get back, so I tug on it and slowly pull it down her naked form.
I admire the view for a few moments before I push her legs apart.
Her eyes widen in shock. “What are you doing?”
“I’m cleaning you up.”
Hope’s legs snap together. “I can do it.”
I shake my head. “What did I tell you, Hope?”
“That if we did this, I’m yours,” she recites.
“That’s right,” I confirm. “Which means I take care of you. Now open those legs so I can clean my pretty pussy.”
Her cheeks redden, but she lets her legs fall open. Carefully, I wipe away the aftermath of our lovemaking.
I toss the rag aside and slip out of the room to grab our dinner so we can eat in bed. I slide back into bed, hand her the plate, and wrap one arm around her. I use my free arm to pull the sheet over us. We finish our meal in silence, stealing glances at each other.
I’ve never felt a connection this strong before in my life.
“This was the best meal I’ve had in a long time,” I compliment.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Hope giggles. “If you keep rewarding me like this, I’ll have to keep upping my culinary skills.”
I climb out of bed. “I’ll be right back.”
Tossing the dirty dishes into the sink, I fill it with soap and water so they can soak, then head back to Hope’s bed.
Once I’m settled, she curls into my side, laying her head on my chest, her fingers tracing the club’s insignia inked on my pectoral.
She’s a part of that life now, and it’s a life she chose willingly.
We lie here in the silence, both of us deep in thought.
“How’s this going to work?” Hope asks.
“What do you mean?”
“We live in different states,” she says around a yawn.
I don’t answer her because I don’t have the answer right now. All I know is that she belongs to me. If I have to give up the club to stay with her, I will. There are too many unanswered questions to deal with. For now, I want to forget about them and enjoy our moment.
“We’ll figure it out,” I whisper.