Scoring with the Wrong Twin (Ice Chronicles Hockey #2)

5. Savannah

5

Savannah

“Do you always look this good after almost becoming a snake snack?” His voice is low and teasing, laced with a cocky amusement that’s just shy of infuriating.

I open my mouth to give him a piece of my mind, but the words never come. Instead, his lips crash into mine, stealing my breath and, apparently, my ability to form coherent thoughts. The kiss is bold, no hesitation, like he already knows I won’t push him away. And damn it, he’s right.

My hands find his shoulders—broad, strong, unfairly perfect—and cling to him as the kiss deepens. I can taste the salt on his lips from the sweat on his brow, and it only serves to turn me on more. His fingers slide into my hair, tilting my head back so he can kiss me deeper, like he’s trying to claim me. I should stop this, pull back, say something , but every time his mouth moves against mine, it’s like my body forgets how to function.

The next thing I know, his weight presses me down onto the blanket, his body solid and warm above me. “You’re ridiculously full of yourself,” I manage to mutter between kisses, but even to my own ears, the words lack bite.

“Is that a complaint?” he murmurs against my lips, his hand sliding under my shirt to brush against bare skin.

“No.”

“Good.” His lips trail from my mouth to my jaw, then down to the sensitive spot on my neck that makes me gasp. He stops for a second and gazes at me with a hungry look, like a wolf eyeing its prey. But there's something more to it—a sense of awe, like he's watching a masterpiece being created before his very eyes.

His lips still brushing against mine in soft kisses, his touch roams over my body, exploring every inch of me like he's trying to memorize the feel of my skin. His hands are everywhere—rough and sure, the kind of touch that feels like it could burn me alive. My own hands slide into his hair, tugging him closer as my body arches into his. There’s no stopping this, no point in pretending I want to.

In a quick, expert motion, he pulls my sports bra up, freeing my boobs. I can feel my nipples harden under his gaze as he drinks them up like a connoisseur savoring a fine wine.

Then, he cups my right breast in his hand, his thumb softly flicking over the sensitive nub. I gasp as he takes it into his mouth, sucking and nipping at it gently. He licks it slowly, his eyes locked on mine, making me moan and squirm beneath him.

He moves to the other boob, giving it the same attention as the first. I can feel the wetness pooling between my thighs, my body aching for his touch.

“God, you’re fucking sexy,” he says, gazing down at me with those gorgeous blue eyes.

“You’re not so bad yourself, cowboy.”

He chuckles, sliding his hand down my stomach, caressing my leg. He traces the waistband of my shorts before hooking his fingers underneath and pulling them down. I lift my hips to help him, feeling a rush of cool air against my skin as he exposes my pink lace panties. He takes a moment to admire them, his eyes darkening with desire before he pulls them down, and teases the slick folds throbbing for his touch.

“Damn, you’re already wet for me.”

“Can’t help it, I guess.”

Still grinning, he slides a pair of fingers, parting my lips and moving his touch inside.

I gasp as he fills me, the pleasure so immediate and intense, heat throbbing from where he’s fingering me.

“Oh God,” I moan.

He leans in, his tongue flicking against my clit. I cry out, my hips bucking as he licks and sucks at the sensitive nub. He starts off slow, teasing me with gentle flicks of his tongue before increasing the pressure. He varies the rhythm, sometimes slow and steady, sometimes fast and furious. He circles my clit with his tongue, making me moan and gasp with pleasure.

He slides a finger inside me, pumping in and out as he continues to work my clit with his mouth. He finds my g-spot, rubbing it gently as he adds a second finger. He curls them up, hitting that sweet spot inside me that makes me see stars.

He bites down gently on my clit, making me cry out with pleasure. He soothes the sting with his tongue, licking and sucking. He alternates between soft and hard, fast and slow, driving me wild with desire.

I can feel the pressure building, my orgasm getting closer and closer. He senses it too, increasing the pace and pressure until I'm on the brink. With one final flick of his tongue and a hard thrust of his fingers, I come apart, my body shaking with the force of my release.

He continues to lick and suck at my clit, drawing out my orgasm until I'm a quivering mess beneath him. I moan, bucking into his hand, feeling the orgasm get closer and closer.

“Just like that, just like that.”

“Come for me,” he growls into my ear.

I can’t resist, the pleasure rolling through me, setting me on fire. When the orgasm fades, he slips his fingers out of me, wiping my juices on his jeans.

With one swift motion, he grabs the hem of his T-shirt and pulls it over his head, tossing it aside. My breath catches as I take in the hard planes of his perfect chest, my gaze snagging on a small tattoo inked over his left pec—a bird mid-flight, its wings outstretched as if ready to take off.

I reach up, unable to stop myself from tracing the delicate outline with my fingertip, his muscles twitching under my touch.

I wonder if that tattoo has a meaning, but I actually don’t care right now. All I can think about is how much I want him inside me.

The sight pulls me in, my fingers twitching with the urge to trace it, but my attention is drawn downward as he yanks down his pants and boxer-briefs in one fluid motion.

His cock, thick and wet at the tip, springs free, making my mouth water.

“You ready?” he asks as he climbs over top of me.

It’s my chance to get him to stop, to tell him that this is going too fast, too soon.

But that’s not what I want. What I do want is for him to bury himself inside, to make me come over and over.

“Ready.”

“Wait, protection?”

“On the pill. Keep going.”

He grins, reaching down and taking hold of himself, positioning his thickness at my entrance. With a slow push, he spreads my lips and enters me.

Holy shit .

The sensation of his hardness stretching my walls, filling me perfectly , it’s almost too much to take. Oh God, how much I needed this! He pushes all the way, bottoming me out. He pulls back and thrusts hard into me again, the pleasure like a mini explosion deep inside.

He’s something else. His muscular frame works over top of me, glistening with a sheen of sweat as he thrusts.

“That feel good, gorgeous?” he asks between grunts.

“So good. So goddamn good.”

His shredded abs and powerful shoulders tense and flex with each thrust. His cock pumps in and out, stretching my walls to their limits.

When he leans down to claim my mouth in another searing kiss, our bodies are so close that I can feel every contour and hard plane of his body pressed against mine. It's intimate... primal... like nothing I've ever experienced before. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the air, punctuated by his guttural grunts and my own moans.

I can feel pressure building rapidly at the base of my spine as pleasure mounts higher and higher. My inner walls clench around his length, trying desperately to pull him deeper still. Blake groans into my mouth before biting down on a sensitive spot where neck meets shoulder.

"Cum for me, Princess"

His gravelly command is all it takes to send me flying apart on a silent scream lost in mind-numbing ecstasy. I'm dimly aware of his own release flooding hot and deep inside moments later before everything goes blissfully black…

Later, we’re lying tangled on the blanket, the sun filtering through the trees and highlighting every ridiculous, swoon-worthy angle of his face. He props himself up on one elbow, looking down at me with a mix of smugness and something deeper.

“Where are you staying?” he asks, his voice low and smooth, like this is a casual question after... all that.

“The B&B,” I say, still trying to catch my breath.

His eyebrows shoot up. “The B&B? Didn’t expect that.”

I’m confused. Didn’t we already discuss this?

“Why not?” I challenge, tilting my head to meet his gaze.

“Just didn’t think a supermodel would pick a place like that,” he says, smirking.

I laugh. “Supermodel? You’ve got jokes.”

His smirk falters, just for a second, before it snaps back into place. “Well, you are a supermodel, right?”

“Guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He stands, offering me a hand to help me up, and despite my best efforts, my legs are still jelly. There’s something... different about him today. Something I can’t pin down, but it makes me want to stick around and figure him out.

The ride back is quieter than before, though the tension between us lingers like the heat from the afternoon sun. I cling to him, my cheek brushing against his shoulder, every bump in the trail reminding me of the wild, impulsive connection we just shared.

When we finally reach the B&B, he slides off the horse first and turns to help me down. His hands grip my waist, steadying me as my feet hit the ground. For a moment, we’re too close, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that makes me want to look away—and also lean in.

“Thanks for saving me.”

“Anytime.”

He swings back into the saddle, turning the horse toward the stables without another word. I watch him ride away, my legs still unsteady and my mind racing. That kiss, that everything , wasn’t supposed to happen. And yet, it feels like something shifted.

I step inside, closing the door behind me, but the tingling sensation on my lips refuses to fade. I glance out the window, watching him disappear into the distance.

As much as it pains me to admit it, I think I might be falling for a cowboy. Damn it.