42. Ariella
FORTY-TWO
ARIELLA
RAW, NEXT QUESTION…
He was everywhere and nowhere I needed him all at the same damn time.
“I need you to touch me, Dalton,” I pleaded.
He nipped at the sensitive skin on my neck, caressing the sting with his tongue. “I am touching you, Ari. You’re going to need to be more specific than that.”
Asshole. He knew what I wanted but he was going to make me work for it—beg for it.
My head met the wall again, back arching, and I gave in. “I want you to bury your fucking fingers into my pussy, Thatcher.”
He let out a low growl—I hadn’t realized men actually made that sound until him—picking me up and practically sprinting to the bed with me in his arms, dropping me on the soft mattress.
“Jesus Christ.”
The devilish grin he shot me should have warned me about what he was about to say.
“Think he knew he was dying for the sins we’re about to perform in this bed?” My mouth dropped open as Dalton dropped to his knees, shoving his broad shoulders between my thighs to spread them apart further, just like he had in my office.
I couldn’t even tell him how wrong that was to say, too distracted by the rough feel of his palms traveling up my legs.
“Every fucking day I think about these gorgeous legs being wrapped around my head,” he growled into my inner thigh. The scruff on his face left a delicious burn on the inside.
“Fuck, you’re so warm and wet for me, Sunshine.” His fingers traveled to my bare center and we both let out a hiss when he reached his destination.
I was never going to survive this, everything heightened by the emotions we’d just shared.
By the fact that this was real.
“You better fuck me hard, Thatcher,” I said back arching off the bed as he pushed into me with his fingers. The delicious fullness had me moaning and wanting more.
“I’ll give you anything you want from me, Sunshine,” he promised, before latching onto my clit with his mouth, his saliva mixing with my wetness. He hummed, and I nearly leaped off the bed from how fucking good it felt.
His deep grunts had my hands knotting in the sheets. He sounded like he was in as much pleasure as I was. My body was brimming with anticipation with every pump of his fingers and swipe of his hot tongue.
My orgasm was right there, teetering on the edge. I gripped his hair and pulled. It set him off. He swirled his tongue faster, filling me with a third finger. It was like electricity shot down each limb. My body went taut, and every muscle tensed as pleasure rushed through me.
Dalton never stopped touching me, kissing me, until I finally caught my breath.
I gripped his head, dragging his mouth back to mine, needing more of him. He groaned into my mouth, his heartbeat fast, and his touch just as needy.
“God, you’re perfect,” Dalton muttered in my ear, lazily placing kisses along my body. The frenzy from when he’d show up had slowed, and now it was like we were both seeking something…more. “I need to be inside you,” he said, and the emotion in his words had my heart leaping into my throat.
I nodded, but that wasn’t enough for him.
“No, I want to hear you say it, Ariella.” He stood, pulling off his boxers and pulling out a condom from who knew where.
“I want you to feel you. Nothing between us,” I said, the words tumbling out and stunning us both.
His inhale was sharp, and I squirmed under his attention. Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say? Maybe I’d misread the moment…
The bed dipped under his weight, distracting me from my thoughts. He crawled over me, caging me with his body. “Is that what you want, Sunshine?” His voice was so tender it hurt.
How had I ever wondered if he felt something real for me, too?
“I’m on the pill. So if you want to?—”
I moaned as he captured my mouth with his lips, tongue stroking mine. He kept his weight off me, but I could still feel his hard length pressed between my thighs.
My eyes closed, senses heightened. His hands were everywhere, the back of my neck, my breasts, my waist.
“Tell me you’re mine, Ari.”
“I’m all yours,” I breathed. As soon as the words left my lips, he sank the length of his cock inside me.
Dalton’s ragged groan drowned out the gasp that ripped from my throat. God, he felt so good. So perfect.
He rocked into me slowly, taking his time.
“So tight,” Dalton whispered as I wrapped my legs around his waist. We both groaned, the new angle allowing him to sink in deeper. “You feel so fucking good, Ari.” He licked my lips as he continued to pump inside me. “This is everything I want. Your pussy. These lips.” He moaned as I swept my tongue against his, lost in his words—in him. “Like goddamn sunshine.”
We stayed locked in a passionate kiss as he trailed his hand down, reaching between my legs and smiling against my gasping mouth as he played with my clit, rubbing it at the same hypnotic pace that he fucked me.
“Oh God, Dalton…” I cried out, my pussy contracting around his size as I rotated my hips in search of the friction that’d send me over into bliss.
“Fuck, you’re better than I could have ever imagined,” he rasped in awe as I grabbed handfuls of the white sheets. “It’s never been this good. Tell me it’s never been this good for you either,” he panted, nipping at my earlobe.
All I could do was nod, too consumed by pleasure to form words.
“I’m going fill you with my cum, Ari, and then I’ll watch it drip from your pussy before I scoop it up and shove it back in where it belongs,” he muttered, thrusting deeper, harder with every word.
Holy shit.
“I’m going to come...” I panted as he gripped my hips, fingers dimpling the skin.
“Let go for me. Let me see how beautiful you are when you come.”
His dirty talk fucking did it for me, because as if by magic, I fell over the edge at his word. “Dalton,” I moaned, pleasure shooting up my spine. The orgasm consumed me. I cried out as he pumped into me, drawing out a release so intense it caused my legs to shake.
Even in my state of delirium, I heard him speak the words I didn’t know I’d needed.
“You’re mine, Ariella, and I’m never letting you go now,” Dalton groaned, spilling inside of me before collapsing on top, careful not to crush me. There were a few beats where neither of us spoke. Our heavy breathing was the only sound, but then he popped up on his elbow, eyes brimming with something I couldn’t place. It warmed my heart.
It was as if everything was right where it belonged, where I was supposed to be.
He trailed his fingertip down the side of my face before pulling me in for a kiss, his dick still firmly inside me, our limbs entwined.
Dalton had seeped into my skin, gotten into my head.
Into my heart.
We lay there tangled up in one another after another round in the shower.
“When did you even take your boots off?” I asked, thinking back to how tonight had all gone down. I could say I’d never expected this, but that’d be a lie. The even larger lie would be if I said I hadn’t hoped for it.
“Fuck, I don’t even know how I got out of those so fast. Practically jumped out of them.”
He looked over at me, wide smile painted on his face. “I’ll keep the hat on next time and you can ride me.”
“Shouldn’t I wear the hat then? Wear the hat, ride the cowboy and all that shit,” I responded, waving a hand in the air, laughing at the way his smile morphed into a scowl.
“Where’d you hear that rule from?”
I gnawed on my lip to keep my laughter in check, turning on my side so I could fully face him. “Is that jealousy I’m hearing?”
“Yeah, baby, it is,” he said, sealing our lips together and making me melt into him. God, we were insatiable, because I’d have sworn this make out session would lead to his tongue being buried between my thighs for the third time in a handful of hours, but a shrill ring cut through the haze.
“I swear if that’s your cousin.” He flipped over, fumbling with the light. “Shit. It’s my dad.”
That short sentence had my heartbeat kicking up. I almost told him not to answer, but didn’t get the words out fast enough.
“Hey, Dad.” Dalton’s tone was tight, devoid of any of his usual charm. The volume wasn’t loud enough for me to hear the other half of the conversation, but I didn’t like how he tensed. “What changes are you talking about?” His mouth shut, jaw ticking as he listened to whatever bullshit he was receiving. I threaded my fingers with his, giving a gentle squeeze as a show of support, hating how dejected he looked. “Well, do I get a say in who you’re looking at trading? Yeah, I know I’m not an owner, but I am the captain and your son.”
Dalton practically spat the last word and it dripped with a condescending tone. Whatever his father’s response was, it only caused his frown to deepen, his fingers tightening around mine to the point of discomfort, but I didn’t dare pull away.
“Okay. Yeah, that’s all I’ve got to say. I’m not sure what more you want when you call me in the middle of the night and tell me you’re shaking up the team, but then refuse to tell me anything more. I don’t know what the point of this call was if you didn’t want my opinion.” He paused, jaw clenching. “Our season opener is this week, at least wait ’til after you watch a game to make decisions.” With that, he hung up, eyes finally finding mine. Anger swirled in their green depths. “He’s making trades and we haven’t even started. He hasn’t even seen a fucking game.”
The moonlight filtering through the sheer curtains offered enough illumination for me to make out the sharp angles of Dalton’s jaw, which was still tightly clenched.
“We’ll figure it out, right? I mean, he’s probably going to ask Monroe for his opinion before he makes any decision. And I’m sure he’s going to want your opinion—this is your team as much as it is his.”
Dalton looked like he was grasping for hope, but I didn’t actually know that his dad would ask me, or even Monroe. Vincent was a narcissist who loved calling the shots—being in control. This was another power move. But I didn’t want to voice those worries aloud.
The interaction with Vincent in the hall was on the tip of my tongue, but I was still wrestling with whether or not to tell Dalton about it.
Something cold settled in my gut, an unease I couldn’t quite place.
I heard him move against the sheet, but couldn’t make out what he was doing until his little finger gripped mine like a lifeline.
“Promise not tell?” he whispered, the pain in his voice tearing at my heart.
“Pinky.”
Dalton let out a deep sigh. “He never wanted to be in my life. My dad knocked up my mom when he was on an away game. She was a bartender at a spot the team partied at. Didn’t ask for all the details because thinking about my mom having sex grosses me out.” He let out a chuckle, but it was still sad. “Mom said it was a one-time deal. Cell phones weren’t a thing back then, and he didn’t bother giving her a number, but after she found out she was pregnant, she went full Nancy Drew. That’s how she figured out he’d failed to mention he was married—didn’t tell her he was a hockey player either.”
I gasped at the confession. “What happened? ”
“Nothing. He told my mom not to contact him again, that she was lying about being pregnant with his kid or that she’d tampered with the condom, and said if she went to the press he’d bury her.”
I pushed up on my elbow, needing to see his face. My heart broke at the sadness written in his expression. His skin was salty when I pressed a kiss to his cheek, peppering his face until I met his lips, then looked at him again.
“Your dad was an asshole.”
He rolled his lip between his teeth, staring off. When he spoke, he sounded distant, lost in thought, and I let him release what must have been years of built-up family shit.
“I got a full ride for hockey. I made Rookie of the Year, and put up record-breaking numbers my freshman year. Came back as a sophomore, and when we made playoffs he showed up at practice. Had no clue my biological dad was a hockey player—Mom never told me. We didn’t talk about my dad, period. It was the first big fight we had.” He ran his hand over the back of his head. “Regret that to this day. But when he took me out to dinner, he painted this picture of my mom keeping him out of my life. And he was so…”
“Convincing?”
He nodded, and even in the dim lighting I knew he wasn’t actually seeing what he was staring at, too lost in thought.
“Very. It’s how I found myself dropping out of college senior year and joining the Desperados. Mom wanted me to finish college and get my degree.” He let out a humorless chuff. “But I wanted so badly to please him. To give him a reason to stay.” His eyes locked onto mine, bitterness coating his words when he spoke. “He hates it when I call him Dad. We live in the same building, on the same floor, and I’ve never seen him here. I drive the car he wants me to, wear the name he wants, act the way he wants, and he won’t let me call him Dad. Maybe if we win the Stanley this year.”
Heartbreak.
My heart was shattered by the way Dalton longed for acceptance. The hope in that last sentence. He believed the lie that he should earn his father’s love, that he fell short of deserving it, so he thought he needed to work harder for the affection.
When, in reality, his father was undeserving of him.
I didn’t know how to tell him he was better off without the asshole. My gut told me he wasn’t ready to hear that yet. So I did the only logical thing.
Used humor to deflect.
“Think it would help your daddy issues if I called you Papi ?”
He barked out a laugh, giving me the biggest smile, clearly happy for the subject change. The smile didn’t dim as he tucked my hair behind my ear, trailing his fingers down the column of my throat, leaving a trail of raised skin in their wake.
“You could probably solve all my issues if you called me Papi in bed.”