Destiny on Ice (Boys of Winter #1)(51)

I want him on top of me so I can feel his muscles and his strength, so I stretch out invitingly and crook a finger for him to get to sexing me up.

Brent lowers his body to mine. It’s sweet how careful he is to distribute his heavily muscled body in such a way that he doesn’t crush me.

Damn, his skin feels electric against mine.

And he’s so freaking built.

“I like your muscles,” I say as I run my hands up his arms, then around to his strong back.

“I like your, well, everything,” he replies as he slides his hand down over a breast and along my side.

The lust in his voice makes me want the rest of my clothes off. “I want to be naked with you,” I whisper.

Together, we work to rid me of my bra, shirt, and the leggings and undies still wrapped around my calf. When I’m as naked as he is, Brent leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth.

“Mmm, yeah, I like that,” I whisper to him as he devours one breast, then the other, with his hot mouth.

When his hand starts to trail down my stomach, all I can think is, Yes, please. I need more of what he has to give me.

“I’m so wet for you, Brent,” I tell him, which makes him release a raspy moan from around my nipple.

Gently, he parts my folds and begins a steady back-and-forth gliding motion over my clit.

He quickly establishes a rhythm that leaves me begging for more. God, he’s good. “I want to feel you inside,” I murmur.

“Like this?” he asks as he dips a finger into me, but only just a touch.

“You’re such a tease,” I moan as I arch up, encouraging him to push in farther, to fill me, to pump in and out of me.

He pushes in a tiny bit more, stretching me, but not enough. “What about now?” he taunts.

“Better,” I groan, “but not enough.”

Adding another finger, he plunges in, working me and leaving his hand covered in how much I want him. When he twists his hand a certain way, he hits the magic spot. “Oh, God, Brent. Don’t stop doing that.” At the brink, I gasp, “I want you inside me, Brent. Please, Brent, please. I need all of you.”

“What part of ‘all’ of me do you want?” he asks, smirking as he props up on one elbow and peers down at me, his fingers still working my * like a fine instrument.

“All of you, Brent,” I whisper.

“How ’bout we start with this?”

Before I can ask, “Start with what?” he shimmies down my body and sucks my clit into his warm mouth.

Holy f*ck!

A few minutes of his even-more-talented-than-his-fingers tongue and I explode in an orgasm that has me crying out in pleasure and grinding down onto Brent’s fingers and face.

He loves it. Or so he tells me when he stops licking long enough to rasp out a commanding, “Keep coming for me, Aubrey. Come for me again and again. I want you all over me.”

I do as he asks, exploding over and over again. And every time I do I think I’m spent. But then Brent does something different—twists his finger up inside me just so, flicks my clit with his tongue—and I start pulsing all over again.

“I think I might pass out,” I say at one point.

He chuckles, amused. “You’re not going to pass out.”

“I may.”

He crawls up my body and presses his muscular self down onto me. “You won’t,” he assures me.

“How can you be so sure?”

He kisses me, softly, gently. More melting occurs, which is really saying something since my limbs are already so gooey. But I perk up rather quickly—in a good, anticipating way—when I feel Brent’s hard cock pressing up against my folds.

This is it; this is for real. There will be no going back from here.

I lift up my hips, allowing his heavy shaft to stroke me. From the feel of it, it’s clear he’s put on a condom.

Hmm, he must have taken care of that while I was in my state of melty bliss.

“This is why I know you won’t pass out,” Brent says, snapping me back to the here and now as he moves his hips slowly, pushing in, giving me the tip. Even with just that, I feel stretched and opened, in the best sort of way.

“You’re right,” I breathe out. “I won’t pass out. I wouldn’t want to miss a second of this.”

He circles his hips, filling me more completely. “No, you sure don’t,” he replies.

I pause, raise a brow. “Cocky much?”

Chuckling, he says. “You’re about to find out I have every right to feel that way.”

I push at his hard chest, but he’s not going anywhere. Not that I want him to. “You’re so smug,” I say.

“Let me show you why,” he whispers in my ear.

And then he shows me, with one smooth, fluid thrust.

Brent Oliver then gets down to f*cking me. And holy hell! I find out real fast he has every right to be so damn smug. For the record, the real man is so much better than Brent 51. Who needs pulsating vibrating action when you’ve got real-life variable action? That’s right—Brent can f*ck hard, and he can f*ck fast. But he can also give it to you slowly and sweetly.

And that’s what he does, he gives me everything.

At one point, he pulls out almost all the way and then hesitates so I can feel him stretching me, filling me once more. “Ooh, I really like that,” I murmur.