I begin to shake with anticipation, the need so urgent it hurts.
With trembling fingers I reach down to the hem of the dress and slowly pull it above my head and off.
Instantly, my nipples harden against the tepid air.
He comes forward.
“Bra and panties, too.”
I remove them, standing naked before his heated gaze.
“Put your arms above your head.”
He reaches out with one hand and explores my chest as he spins me around. He strokes and kneads my breasts before pinching and pulling at my tender nipples. Below, my clit buzzes, moisture seeping from my pussy when his hands dip lower, running over my stomach and down to the cushiony vee of my sex.
I start to walk backwards, teasing him with a hooked finger.
He follows. “Watch out now.”
I walk right back into the open gate leading to the rink. I trip and fall flat onto my butt on the ice, sliding away laughing.
It’s fucking freezing.
Carter steps onto the ice.
I try to get up.
“No,” he says, “stay down. Spread your legs for me.”
I spread them, heels scuffing on the ice.
His eyes lift and I’m struck again by the depth of color within them, blues that span the entire kaleidoscope—deep cerulean, azure and everything in-between.
He strips away his clothes, one article at a time until he stands before me in nothing more than his socks.
He slides on his knees across the ice, slides right between my legs like some kind of icy rock star.
His fingers brush my legs and I quiver, more so from his touch than the cold that lashes at the extremities my body.
I’ve let my knees fall apart slightly and his eyes move there, between them. Gooseflesh rises on my skin, my back prickling against the ice.
His erection grows outwards, thick and long.
Our eyes lock together in that moment. I begin to shiver. My nipples press as arrowheads into the top of my thighs, compressed there.
I’m cold, but I’m hot too.
A sudden need takes over, desire flooding through me. My breathing is strained and uneven as the head of his cock rises steadily into the air.
It grows, stiffening further and further until the top of it, a baby apple, rests against the hard plane of his chest.
Mesmerized, I cannot look away.
My teeth drag along my lower lip as he crouches between my legs.
His member hovers between us, bouncing unaided in the no man’s land there, veins thick on its surface.
Take me, I want to yell. Please. I’ll do anything if only you’ll take me now.
She's never come before, and I never fail to satisfy.
I’m the brother-in-law who doesn’t play by the rules.
No one delivers between the sheets like I do.
I had it all once—a pro hockey contract, money, an endless line of women looking for that special kind of action only my big stick could provide.
Then I went and screwed everything up.
I let my brother walk away with the best thing in my life.
But he’s gone, and I’m back, ready to take what should have been mine from the start.
Wren’s pretty blue eyes and perfect curves beckon me, still make me iron hard.
She has no idea how bad I want her, how much I dream about her soft lips and tight body.
I know she’s ready for me—all of me, know only my big D can deliver the big O she’s been craving for so long.
Question is, do I go gentle, or do I go hard?
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