Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
Nova
The wind is on my cheeks.
The ice is bumpy below my skates.
But—“I’m doing it!” I navigate the turn, the little dip that’s almost taken me out a few times. “I’m freaking doing it!”
The last word leaves my mouth at the same time I look up…
And see Lake right in front of me.
Right in front of me.
I see his mouth move in a curse, see him try to get out of my way.
Too late.
We collide.
Or more like, I bounce off his hard chest, fall backward—
“Oof,” I grunt as his arm bands around me, dragging me against him, stopping me from falling straight over and cracking my head on the ice.
But not stopping himself.
“Shit,” he mutters, feet sliding out from beneath him. He tries to release me, but ends up taking me down too, and I land on top of him, making him grunt this time.
“Sorry,” I say, trying to push on his chest, trying to get off him.
“Fuck,” he groans.
Damn. I know it can’t be comfortable with all my limbs jabbing him in the stomach. I scramble to get my feet beneath me. “Shit, I’m sorry, honey, I—”
“Fuck,” he says again, but this time it’s paired with his hand diving into my hair, knocking my beanie from my head, tugging me more fully over him. “As in fuck, you are so goddamned beautiful.”
And then he kisses me.
And then…it’s like what happened in the kitchen.
One spark…and flames.
I don’t feel the cold ice seeping into my knees. I don’t feel the wind whipping at my hair. I don’t feel anything but this man beneath me and touching me and kissing me.
The ice can give way.
Snow can bury us.
And I will still be kissing this man.
He rolls us, pressing me into the surface of the pond, our hips aligning, grinding together, all while his tongue is fucking my mouth.
No mercy. No quarter.
This man can kiss.
This man can fuck.
I know it instinctually.
In the way his lips guide mine, taking the kiss hot and wet and deep, in the rhythm of his pelvis, the weight of his body, the sureness of his hands as he dips them under my clothes and—
I squeak.
Because one of those big, warm, sure hands has shoved my shirt up and my back is on the ice.
“Shit,” he mutters, dragging me up, just hefting me like I weigh nothing, carrying me over to the boulder, bending like he’s going to take off my skates, but I stop him, fingers digging into his shoulders, drawing him toward me.
Needing another taste of him like I need my next breath.
I won’t survive without it.
His hands dig into my hips, drawing me flush against him, ass teetering on the edge of the boulder.
“Fuck, you taste good,” he mutters, hand fisting in my hair, tilting my head back, flicking out his tongue and tasting me under my jaw.
I shiver, not from the cold this time, but he pulls away, eyes hot as he kneels in front of me, dragging off my skates, his own, hands shaking as he puts on the guards and shoves them into the backpack.
But when he picks up my boots and says, “Let’s get you back to the house,” I say, “No.”
He freezes and I take advantage, pushing him backward, sending us both toppling to the snow. It’s so cold it takes my breath away, but only for a second. Because then I’m clambering on top of him again. Then I’m kissing him.
Then I’m riding him.
And that branch.
And—
“Fuck,” he groans.
“Yes, that,” I say, shoving my hands between us, running them over the hard planes of his chest, squeezing his pecs, grinding against him, feeling pleasure rise up in me.
“Come here,” he orders, fingers diving into my hair again, drawing my mouth down to his for a long, searing kiss.
Then he’s releasing me, batting my hands away, and flicking open the button on his jeans, unzipping and freeing the hard length of his cock.
“And it’s cold,” I breathe reverently, reaching for it, wrapping my fingers around the velvet-covered steel, stroking once, twice—
“You either sit on that or find your ass cold in the snow.”
I freeze, the rough words like fingers running through my wet pussy, but they’re effective, sending me to my feet so I can wrestle my pants down and off one ankle.
They bunch up around the other in an incredibly unsexy way, but I don’t care and Lake doesn’t seem too either.
He just unzips his jacket, spreading it open so I can kneel on it as I straddle his hips, rubbing myself over him, the slickness of my desire allowing me to glide easily forward and back, forward and back.
“Nova,” he urges.
The wind is cold, the snow is still falling.
This is absolute insanity to be here with my ass hanging out, about to fuck a man I barely know.
But something in me pauses, tightens, tells me this is a time to go slowly forward instead of careening into the future like normal, barely noticing the present because I’m so focused on moving to the next thing.
Enjoy this.
Remember this.
I rock forward again, loving the way his hands come to my hips, gripping tight, freezing me when I would have slid back once more.
“Nova,” he growls. “This is your last warning before your ass is in the snow and I’m pounding into you.”
I shiver, arch just the slightest bit, notching the head of his cock at my entrance, sinking down the barest amount, feeling the burn of him stretching me, the ache in my pussy to take him all, the shakiness of my legs and the way my head spins and—
One hand on my hip pushes me down.
The other slides up to dive under my bra, cupping my breast, rolling my nipple.
Both beams of pleasure—north and south—collide and then I’ve got him inside me, filling me to the brim, making me cry out as his cock bumps against my womb, as his fingers tighten just on the right side of rough.
“Move,” he orders, but he’s already doing that, already thrusting against me, fucking me even though I’m supposed to be the one riding him. He’s taking over, and—
And I don’t give a fuck.
It’s glorious, especially when I drop my hands to his chest, slide them to his abdomen, feeling all of the strong muscles of his torso working as we grind together, as he thrusts his cock into me.
Again.
And again.
And again.
“Oh God,” I groan, head falling back. “That’s good. That’s—”
He sits up, going deeper, and—oh fucking yes—that’s better.
“So. Fucking. Beautiful,” he grunts, fucking me slow and deep and sure. “So. Fucking. Perfect.”
I shiver, my pussy convulsing, pleasure gathering between my thighs and—
He presses his thumb to my clit.
I jerk, eyes going wide. “Lake,” I whisper.
His hazel eyes spark with heat, burn into me, pin me in place. Then his mouth curves up into a sexy smile. “I’m going to need you to come now, butterfly.”
“I—”
That thumb presses harder.
Pleasure spirals through me, tightening in my belly, between my legs, a storm gathering before—
He thrusts up harder, the fingers around my nipple squeezing, and his mouth latches onto mine.
Rough. Slow. Deep.
Sure.
And…explosion.
I feel my pussy convulsing around him as that taut pleasure bursts out from my middle, spreading like wildfire through each of my nerves. It increases as his thrusts speed, as he somehow fucks me harder, as he stills, cock buried deep, mouth breaking away from mine, my name in the air.
Fucking beautiful.
Fucking perfect.