Chapter 52
Anna
Ican’t help but giggle at the look on Travis’s face.
His eyes are about to pop out of his head, and his jaw is on the floor.
A smug, satisfied feeling blooms through me. It feels amazing when he looks at me like this—like I’m a gourmet meal, and he’s been without food for days.
He walks over to the bed, and I prop up on my knees. I turn around so he can see the back of the jersey with his name and number on it.
Maxton. Number 1.
I peer at him over my shoulder, unable to contain my giddy smile. “I stole this from your closet. Hope that’s okay.”
He doesn’t say a word. His eyes are hard and narrow, almost like he’s angry to see me wearing it, even though I know he’s not.
“Do you think this looks okay on me?” I tease.
He runs his gaze down my back, then up again, before looking at me. “You even have to ask?”
He leans down to kiss me.
“You’re gonna be sorry you did this, Anna.”
My tummy dips at the roughness in his voice, how he practically growled those words.
“Really? Why?” My tone is sweet and innocent.
He threads his fingers through my hair before making a loose fist, then crashing his lips against mine. He swoops his tongue in my mouth, hard and desperate and fast.
I moan. It’s so hot how he’s kissing me. Like I’m the air he needs to breathe. Like he’s kissing me for all the times we didn’t. Like he’s making up for all those years we fought and hated each other.
When we break apart, I’m gasping. He’s still holding me by my hair.
“You’re never leaving my bed. Ever.”
My clit jumps at the roughness of his voice. He lets go of me long enough to step over to the side table and grab a condom. I glance down at his hard cock bobbing between his legs.
“Oh, wow…” I murmur, impressed by how quickly he was able to get another erection just minutes after he came.
He doesn’t say a word. I don’t know if he even heard me. He rips open the condom wrapper with his teeth and then slides it on.
He grabs me and flips me so I’m on my hands and knees, facing away from him.
He palms my ass cheek before giving it a soft smack, then a squeeze.
“It’s really fucking cute how you thought you were the only one who was obsessed,” he says.
My heart flutters in my chest. There’s no doubt anymore. It went flying out the window the second I saw the look on Travis’s face when I admitted that I was scared of what he’d think of me when I admitted just how much I think about him—when I told him how I felt about him.
When I saw that warmth in his eyes mixed with raw want. And then he told me all the ways he was obsessed with me. And just like that, I knew: he loves me just as much as I love him.
He leans down and kisses my ass cheek, then he gives me a soft bite. I yelp.
“Hottest ass in the whole damn world,” he mutters like he’s mad about it.
When I look behind me, he’s standing up. A second later, he presses into me. The pleasure is instant. It threads through me like a lightning bolt. My back arches, and I cry out.
Travis lets out a feral-sounding growl as he slowly thrusts into me. It feels so good and so intense. I fall forward, my chest against the bed, inching closer and closer to the edge with how hard he’s fucking me.
It’s desperate and wild. And loving too.
He fucks me like he’s angry I exist, but I adore it. I adore that just being inside of me makes him crazy.
When he pounds harder and faster, I fist the bedsheets and cry out. My throat aches at how loud I’m screaming. I suddenly remember that the window is open. Oh, crap. The whole street can probably hear me.
I open my mouth to say something, but Travis hits a spot inside of me that sets all the nerve endings in my body on fire. My arms and legs give out completely. Ecstasy swoops through my body, steamrolling my insides.
I scream into the bedsheets. The whole city of Denver can probably hear me by now. Whatever. I don’t care anymore. This is too good. There’s no chance I’m going to do anything to stop Travis from fucking me into his mattress.
The edges of my control are disintegrating. My pussy is pulsing, and my clit is throbbing. I’m pressed between him and the bed at a wild angle, and it’s perfect. Intense and heated, right on the edge of too much.
“This is it for you, Anna. You live in my bed. You wear my jersey, and I fuck you into the mattress every single day. That’s it. This is your life now.”
I feel fizzy. Like my insides are made out of soda. Obnoxiously, unreasonably happy.
“What about meals? And showering?” I rasp.
“I’ll bring you food. I’ll bathe you.”
My eyes roll back as I grin, giddy at the delicious mix of roughness and sweetness that Travis is.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you,” he says, his breathing kicking up. “You’re my sweet little fuck toy.”
My eyes roll back at the filthy things he’s saying. Pleasure loops through me. A second later, I explode.
I scream as orgasm hurtles through my body. I’m thrashing against the bed and pulling at the sheets. The sounds I’m making aren’t human. I don’t know any words except, “oh god” and “yes” and “please” and “Travis.”
He doesn’t seem to mind though. He hovers above me, his chest hot, like a furnace, as he delivers the pleasure my body craves.
He kisses my hair, my shoulder, my neck. He tells me how beautiful I look when I come hard—when I come just for him.
I slump forward on the bed, my brain mush, my body boneless. I’m breathing so fast, my lungs ache. They feel hollow. Like all the air has been scraped out. In a good way. The best way.
Travis pulls out of me gently, then dusts kisses up my spine. I shiver.
He calls me “good girl.” And then he gently grips my chin and turns my face to the side. He leans down and kisses me.
Then he flips me over.
I’m on my back now, legs spread wide. He pulls me to the edge of the bed and kneels on the floor.
With what little strength I have, I prop up on my elbows and look at him.
“What are you doing?” I’m so spent I can barely get out the words.
He lifts an eyebrow as he lowers his face to my pussy. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
My chest tingles as I watch his tongue slip out of his mouth. I gasp when he licks up my pussy. He does it again and again.
I fall back on the bed, too weak to hold myself up anymore. Especially now that my body is trembling.
“It’s too much…I can’t,” I whine.
“You will,” he grits out.
Eyes closed, I bite back a smile. I love it when he’s like this. When he’s bossy and takes charge. When he knows my body better than I do.
I’m breathing hard, trying not to pass out as he eats me. The way he’s doing it is just so intoxicating though.
He’s going slow. Really slow. He’s swirling gentle circles over my clit, and it’s making all the muscles in my legs twitch.
Heat loops through my abdomen and up my chest.
I’m back to making those desperate noises again. He stays steady, though. He keeps that slow, deliberate pace. He keeps that gentle pressure that’s slowly making me unravel.
He makes a low, rough sound, and I shiver. He sounds so content, so satisfied. Like he’s not even doing this for me; like this is all for him, and my orgasm is just a convenient bonus.
But I know it’s both. He loves it, and he loves giving me pleasure. It’s perfect, really.
I don’t last long. Maybe a couple of minutes. I come with my hand pulling his hair, grinding against his mouth. He doesn’t stop, so then I come again, and one more time after that.
When he finally lets up, everything is blurry and fuzzy. I can’t think straight or see straight.
I just lie on the bed and stare up at what I think is the ceiling, in awe of the situation I’ve found myself in: I’m in love with my grumpy, sexy-as-sin, protective hockey goalie boyfriend, who can fold me in half like a lawn chair while fucking me into oblivion. Who loves to spoil me with orgasms.
That tingly feeling flashes all over my body. My heart flops around in my chest.
The mattress dips, and he climbs onto the bed. He slides his arms around and cuddles me into his body. I nuzzle his chest, eyes closed, smiling. I yawn, on the verge of passing out.
Before I do, he kisses my forehead. The last thing I remember thinking is how lucky I am to be with Travis—how lucky I feel to be the woman he loves.