Behind the Net: a grumpy sunshine hockey romance

SHE LETS out a silent sigh of relief as my tongue glides into her mouth, and I move so my knees are on either side of her.

“Fuck,” I whisper into her mouth, so warm and welcoming. She tastes so sweet, so right, I can barely contain myself.

I pull the covers back to look at her, and my mind goes blank as I stare at Pippa wearing only my hockey jersey.

A feeling rushes through my chest.

Mine. Pippa is mine. I’m never giving her up.

I’m wordless as I rake my gaze up her body. I’m never going to forget the sight of Pippa’s soft thighs, smooth skin, the peek of cleavage over the neckline of the jersey. The scatter of freckles along her collarbone.

Her thighs press together, and I drag my hand up her inner thigh.

“You look so fucking good like this.”

Her hands skim up my chest until they brush up my neck, and I shudder under her soft touch. I told her to be quiet, but I’m the one biting back a groan as her fingers thread into my hair. She tugs my hair in that way that makes me even harder.

I push the hem of the jersey up, and my heart stops when I see what she has on underneath.

No. Panties.

I stare at her perfect pussy.

“You’ve ruined me,” I tell her, shaking my head before I reach between her legs and drag my fingers from her entrance to her clit. Her hips shake, her lips part, and when I feel how wet she is, I let out another curse. “Soaked, Pippa. You’re fucking soaked.”

She bites her lip, watching my every movement. I stroke over her, circling her clit. She tenses up as I brush the tight bud of nerves, and a dark grin hitches on my mouth. I love how sensitive she is. I love that I make her feel like that, that I can do this to her.

I keep my voice low and my eyes on her. “Were you going to touch yourself in here?”

She nods, and I reward her by pushing one finger inside her, finding her G-spot and crooking my finger. Her back arches but her wide eyes stay on me, and I fucking love that.

“Oh, shit, Jamie,” she whispers, panting.

“Shh.” I stroke her, watching as she presses a hand to her mouth, brows furrowed. I settle between her legs, and her eyes widen. “Did he ever do this for you?”

She shakes her head. “He tried but I wasn’t into it.”

Competition beats in my blood like a drum, and I push in and out of her tight entrance at a languid pace. “You want to try again?”

She hesitates, and I crook my fingers against her front wall, loving how her eyelids fall closed. “Um.” She sighs as I thrust into her. “If you want to.”

“I do.” I watch where my fingers enter her, watch how her pretty pussy sucks them in. “I really fucking do. I think about it all the time.”

She nods with a dazed look. “Okay.”

I press kisses to every freckle on her inner thighs, slow and soft, warming her up until I lower my head and kiss her clit. My tongue brushes over her, and I bite back a groan at how sweet she is. She arches, tightening up as I stroke into her, covering her hand over her mouth. She’s trying so hard to be quiet, my little songbird, and I love it.

While I drag my tongue over her clit, again and again, listening to her pretty little muffled gasps, my free hand drifts to her ass and I grip her soft skin, pushing her against my mouth while I give her swollen clit a long suck. Her thighs shake, and a moment later, her fingers are in my hair, tugging.

“You like that?” I whisper, and she nods feverishly. “You want me to do it again?”

“Please,” she gasps.

Need rushes through me. I love how badly she wants this.

“Shh.” My pulse beats in my ears as I watch her. “You need to be quiet.”

She nods, and when I stroke in and out again, her lips part as she mouths my name. I feel like a king.

I push my jersey up her stomach so I can see her tits. Jesus fucking Christ, Pippa looks so good lying there, chest rising and falling fast. Her skin is so soft, her nipples are pinched and puckered, and I raise up to pull one into my mouth. Her hands return to my hair as I lave the peak with my tongue.

Telling Pippa how I feel was the best idea I ever had, and flying out to see her is a close second.

Her breath comes out in pants, and I grin as I press a kiss between her breasts. “You want to learn something new, songbird?”

“This feels pretty new to me.” Her voice is thin as I dip my finger into her again. “Oh god,” she whispers.

I huff a laugh, letting my stubble scrape the soft skin on her stomach on my way back down between her legs. “You’re going to tell me what you want.” I kiss a trail across her skin, down her thighs, anywhere except where she wants it.

“Please, Jamie,” she whispers.

“Tell me.”

“Do what you were doing just a second ago.”

“Which was?” My voice is low and teasing. “Say it, songbird. You can do it.”

Her frustration peaks. “I want you to lick my pussy.”

I crook a grin at her. “There we go, baby.” When I pull her clit between my lips and suck on it, a low moan slips out of her. “You gotta be quiet.”

Around my finger, she clenches up, and I can feel how badly she needs this. I want to be the guy doling out her pleasure, watching her unravel because of me.

“I can’t,” she whispers, breathing hard as I slick my tongue over her clit again.

I freeze. I’m rushing her, I realize.

“Tell me what you feel.” My mouth returns to her thighs. She’s so wet—

“No.” She sinks her hands into my hair and pulls me back to her slick center. “I can’t be quiet but I don’t want you to stop. I need to come so badly. Please, Jamie.”

Smug, primal satisfaction courses through me. I wasn’t rushing her. She’s desperate to come.

“I’m not going to stop.” I return to her clit, licking, sucking, dragging her own arousal over her sensitive, swollen skin.

“Oh, fuck.” Her head tips back. “Jamie, I can’t hold off.”

I bury my face in her pussy. Her muscles flutter around my fingers as I work her G-spot. She’s close. With my free hand, I reach up and cover her mouth. One of her hands stays in my hair, but the other clutches my arm as she tightens on my fingers.

“Coming,” she moans against my hand over her mouth, and I latch onto her clit, sucking hard. Her legs snap against either side of my head as she shakes beneath my mouth, thighs pressing against me, arching off the bed to ride against my face while she lets out muffled whimpers. My cock is so hard it hurts as she soaks my face with her release, breathing hard.

She collapses back, catching her breath, staring at me like she can’t believe it.

“Nice work,” she whispers, and I chuckle against her inner thigh, pressing a kiss against her skin before lifting up so I’m hovering over her.

My Pippa. So fucking hot. Such a perfect angel, all flushed from her own orgasm. I run my thumb across her bottom lip.

Her gaze drops to the front of my sweatpants, where my cock strains against the fabric. A wicked gleam enters her eyes.

“Not tonight,” I tell her, knowing I’m going to regret it. “If we mess around more, Pippa, I’m going to break your bed.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but I cover it with a kiss, stroking into her mouth the way I want to with my cock. I give myself five more seconds of her mouth before I pull away, stand over the bed, and frame her jaw with my hands.

“You’re so perfect,” I tell her. “So fucking perfect.”

She watches me with that sweet, drowsy smile. It feels special, discovering sex with Pippa like this. Like we’re both discovering how it can be, because it sure as hell has never been like this for me.

She is so fucking mine.

I pull the covers up around her, smiling as she settles into the pillows, still wearing my jersey, hair fanned out, all messed up from my hands in it.

I love her. The words are right under my vocal cords, but I hold them back, because this is all so new. They beat through my blood, they weave through my heart, and I’m sure they’re written all over my face.

“Good night, songbird,” I say instead.