Crew (Hockey Royalty #3)

6. Liv

Chapter 6

Liv

I think my hands are shaking a little as I pop his button on the fly to his shorts. If he notices, I'll blame it on desire. I mean I think that's a factor because, under all my jitters, I really do want this. I'm not just convincing myself I do like I have been all night. Now… with Crew's warm, welcoming body on mine and his lips kissing me senseless, I am totally on board.

He kisses my neck and lifts himself off me. As he kneels at the end of the bed and finishes undoing his fly, I move to the top of the bed. Resting my back against the headboard, I watch him. I’m grateful the light is dim so he doesn’t see the look on my face too clearly. I’m sure it’s a mix of awe and trepidation.

Crew stands at the foot of the bed now, so his shorts slip right to the ground. He keeps his eyes on me as he reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it up over his head, ignoring the buttons. Now I may be a virgin but I’m not dead inside. Crew Westwood in nothing but his underwear in front of me is a gift. “You look like someone graffitied a marble sculpture of a Greek god.”

He chuckles, his hand cupping and adjusting his very big, very bulging package. “Fireball, do you just say whatever pops into your head? Not that I’m complaining. You are great for the ego.”

I give him a tiny shrug as he kicks his shorts off his ankles. “Actually I usually don’t say anything I think or feel. I’m branching out tonight.”

"Interesting." He bends. I can be hyper-critical of hockey and its players but I will never fault the physique it gives them. Never ever. Crew stands up with a square foil thing in his hand. "I am here for whatever you need me for, Olivia."

He says my full name, the only one I've given him, slowly in a deep tone that I swear just made my panties damp. He tosses the condom and it lands squarely on the night table. He grins like an NBA player who just made a buzzer-beating three-pointer. And then he leans forward and grabs my ankles.

Before I realize what's happening I'm slipping down the mattress, flat on my back. Then he's hovering above me again, this time balancing on one hand while his other lands on my bare thigh at the hem of my dress. I look him dead in the eye while his hand begins to climb. He has the dress up to my hips in no time then. He kisses my stomach, which makes me tingle everywhere.

I tip my head back and tell myself not to freak out. I am not the completely innocent, scared virgin my family likes to pretend I am. I’ve had boyfriends and we’ve done stuff. Lots of stuff. I’m not scared of men. I’m not saving myself for marriage. I was just waiting for a feeling. But then it became a thing. I was the only virgin I knew and then it just felt like pressure. Like I had to pick the right guy and the right time or it was all for naught. So I did what I always do in situations where I have to be bold. I did nothing.

“Olivia. Look at me.”

That’s when I realize I was all the way up in my own head, staring blankly at the ceiling while Crew has unzipped the side zipper on my dress. I hold my breath and lower my eyes. He’s staring at me curiously. “You good?”

“So good.” This is exactly what I want.

“If you aren’t, just say it. Say no. Say stop. Say hey Crew get the fuck out,” he tells me with a soft smile. “I promise even if I’ve got balls bluer than the ocean I will listen.”

I smile. Man, I like this guy.

"But if you don't say any of that…" He starts tugging my dress down, and as my boobs pop free I cover them with my hands. He pauses and lifts one eyebrow at my act of modesty but I lift my hips, to help him get the dress all the way off and show him I'm not changing my mind. He takes my underwear with the dress throws them over his shoulder and climbs on top of me again. His lips find my ear. "If you don't say stop, I will not stop kissing you, or sucking you, or telling you how fucking gorgeous you are, or how good you taste. I won't stop at all. Not until you come so hard I'm all you think about for weeks."

What a gift would that be? To not think about the attack or how to tell my parents or what will happen next and to only think about this beautiful, charming, sexy man. “Hey Crew,” I murmur as he kisses a trail down my neck. He stops as soon as the words leave my mouth. “Call me gorgeous again.”

He lifts his head, then reaches out and runs a hand through my hair from my temple to the ends which are tangled against the mattress. “Olivia. Fireball. You are beautiful. In a Vegas club full of women you were the only one I saw tonight.” His hand slides up over my knee, around my hip, and as it slides down again it starts to take my underwear with it. “Something about you sparkles, baby. You may be shy and confuse the hell out of me but you shine a little bit brighter, from the inside, than anyone I’ve met in a long time. I am going to enjoy the hell out of this.”

I can’t help but open my eyes and watch as his kisses move to below my belly button and then lower. Then… oh. Oh. Oh… yes.

I’ve done this before but it has never felt like this. I’ve never felt like this. Crew is deliberate. Confident. Slow and savoring. He’s not rushed, trying to get to the next part, where he gets gratification. He’s getting something from this too. And if I needed confirmation, the low rumbling sound he makes is it. “I was right. You do taste incredible.”

Crew is doing everything right. I feel good. I feel safe. I feel adored. And just a few moments later I feel the gentle euphoric push of an orgasm fighting its way through my over-active brain. I fight it, dodging it like a fighter dodges a punch but eventually, way quicker than it should, it knocks me out. I grip the sheets and pant out his name as my back arches and my hips roll.

“Oh fuck, Olivia. You are so damn hot,” he murmurs against my sensitive, quivering flesh. I swear—something I rarely do—and squirm and he chuckles and gives me one last lick.

My eyes are closed and I’m fighting for some deep, calm breaths as he crawls his way up my body, lifting the clothes I have left, my crop top and bra, and kissing his way to my breasts, which I’m no longer trying to hide. He sucks on each nipple with care, swirling his tongue and gently nipping. It has me feverish with desire again and I run my hands into his hair, which is surprisingly thick and soft, and I pull his mouth to mine and kiss him deeply. I taste myself and I don’t care. I just want him so much. I have never been this turned on.

He reaches out blindly with his left arm, groping the night table, and it isn’t until I see the foil packet in his hand that I realize, I’m actually about to do this. I’m nervous, but not hesitant. I boldly, at least in my opinion, pull off my shirt and bra and drop them to the floor, then I watch him roll the condom over his very hard, very thick cock.

When he's properly sheathed he leans down again, cups the back of my neck, and whispers, "Roll over."

Oh.

I don't know if I should argue. I mean, I always pictured my first-time missionary but there's no rule about it…. Right? I roll over and immediately feel his hands on my hips, pulling me up. I'm… exposed. So exposed. But I mean, I'm naked so of course I'm exposed but this just feels… more vulnerable.

Crew keeps one hand on my hip but the other moves and then I feel it and I almost jump. The tip of his cock being rubbed across my sensitive, slick center. I arch my back almost involuntarily at the shiver of pleasure. This is nice… I’m still wrapped up in knots in my head but my body has no complaints. “Crew…” I whisper his name almost sheepishly. “Can you be… gentle?”

I feel like a failure for asking. I'm on the verge of complete humiliation but he responds by leaning over my back, kissing the spot between my shoulder blades, and… oh… he's started to inch inside… I…

“Baby, I will be whatever you need,” he promises as he inches more and more and in… then out a bit… then I feel his fingers against my clit, moving in slow circles. I arch my back even more. He slips in completely and there is this moment of brief but biting pain but then… wow. This feels… weird. Good but weird. I have a man inside me.

He kisses the base of my neck and his hips roll slowly but firmly as he moves in and then out just a little bit. “Olivia, how are you so impossibly tight? Jesus…”

“I’m sorry,” I choke out.

“Baby do not apologize for your perfection,” he scolds with a quick, light slap to the side of my right ass cheek which, between that and his fingers still on my clit, have me tingling everywhere.

He keeps moving, in and out and the pace gets faster. His rhythm grows uneven very quickly and he curses and it sounds like it’s through gritted teeth. I am overwhelmed trying to adjust to this new normal and it’s not that I don’t like it. I do like it. It’s nice but it’s also weird and I think coming beforehand made it easier but now… I have too much to process to think about coming again, even though everything he’s doing feels good. Really good. But still…

“Olivia, are you close?”

He needs me to come and I want to give him that. I like Crew. He has been nothing but charming and he’s gorgeous and he deserves to think he rang my bell twice so I make a noise. A small breathy moan and he growls in victory. “Yeah baby, do it. Come.”

I make the sound again and arch my back a little more and he snaps his hips hard and fast and I have to brace a hand against the headboard to keep from smacking my head into it. I hear him groan so loudly I panic for a second. I hope to hell no one else is back yet. They would definitely hear that. He grips my hips so tightly I might have bruises, but I'll worry about that later. Right now I just take in the moment, the first time I've made a man come this way.

His torso collapses onto my back and the movement causes his dick to start to slide out. I watch over my shoulder as he grabs the base, including the edge of the condom, and slides out, flopping onto his back beside me.

I drop down onto my stomach, so only my ass is exposed to his gaze, which is heavy and satisfied. I satisfied him. It’s a good feeling. It’s all I feel actually, which surprises me. I don’t feel relieved I finally had sex. I don’t feel regret either. I just feel… content. And oddly proud that I put that look on such a sexy, charming, wildly attractive man’s face.

He rolls onto his side. “I should clean up.”

With a quick kiss, he gets off the bed and lumbers into my attached bath. The light flicks on and the door half-closes. I love how men can just wander around buck-naked and not give a fuck. I am always in some sort of clothing. Even on the hottest night last fall when the AC in our apartment was broken, I had on boy shorts and a tank even though Tenley claimed the only way to sleep was fresh out of a cold shower, completely in the buff. Nope. Not me. Clothes are covering me at all times.

So now I take the alone time to scurry over to my suitcase and throw on fresh undies and a tank top. I pause and touch myself. I’m a little achy but it’s not horrendous.

The bathroom door opens as I’m pulling back the sheets and crawling into bed. Crew walks right over to me and cups my face in his hands. “You all ready for bed? Need me to tuck you in?”

Before I can respond he kisses me, slowly and gently and it's wonderful. I let him push me back down onto the mattress and lower his naked self on top of me, even though in the back of my brain I'm panicking my relatives might come back and catch us. I locked the door, right? I think I did… but yeah, a minute or two of cuddling with Crew won't kill me.

He rolls onto his side and tucks me into him. The feel of him against my back is soothing, one of his big strong arms draped across my torso and the other under my head as a pillow. He slips a leg in between mine and I sigh. “This is nice.”

“Cuddling is the second best part,” he murmurs, and it’s the last thing I remember because I drift off to sleep.