Page 61 of He Has Charm

“I want to feel you, all you, only you.” The words tumble straight from my heart and soul.

“You are so fucking… too good to be true,” he says. And then he lowers his weight fully onto me and I feel the enormity of his cock heavy against my belly as he presses down. He grinds against me and the satisfying thickness of him presses into that vee where my pussy is recovering fast from the previous onslaught of his tongue.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asks. I snort and he laughs, his arms holding him up above me, but close. As we stare into each other’s eyes, he maneuvers his body and with his hand lines up his cock, teasing my still throbbing pussy.

“I’m so ready. Don’t make me beg again.” His eyes go dark and he presses my legs wide with his, then he pushes inside me in a slow relentless glide that goes on and on until I’m full and he’s up against my wall and the sensation of satisfaction tingles through me. “Oh my god,” I whisper.

“You’re going to have to stop saying that or I’ll get a big head, sugar buns.”

“How could your head get any bigger?” I say and I mean his cock. He moves and I nearly choke at the flood of sensations.

“You okay?” I meet his eyes and he’s half smiling, half sincere. “You feel so good, so tight and hot my cock wants to live here.”

“Welcome home.”

He chuckles, but then his mouth twitches with strain and he moves again, gliding out and twisting his hips slightly. I think I lose consciousness for a blink and I see stars. He starts moving in and out faster, harder, and whatever orgasm I thought I felt before suddenly feels like the cute small appetizer to this big juicy meal.

My world is sensations, sparking and flooding and filling me from every direction as he breathes above me, glistening with sweat and the beauty of unholy raw manhood, driving in and out, groaning and making the kind of noises that my deepest animal instincts understand. I respond with my own noises as his hips pump so fast and hard now.

“I’m close.” My strangled words are a whisper, but he hears me and his hand comes between us and he touches me as our hips pull apart. His thumb finds that one spot, the throbbing nub, and then he slams back into me and my world explodes.

I go deaf and blind because I can’t see or hear for I don’t know how long as the universe tumbles through me and I fall through time and space filled with impossible sensations, my body shuddering, shaking, and rocking as millennia pass by.

When the racing sensations stop and I hear his breathing, his whispers, his curses, and see his face in front of mine as he rolls us to his side, I suck in some breaths as if I’d been holding back and smile. He has me in his arms, plastered against his sweaty chest and I think I may as well be in heaven.

“I love you, Maddox.” The words have their own life, flowing from me like the tide and as unstoppable. But the flinch of sudden tension in his body strikes me and I hold my breath, waiting for the shock to fade, but it doesn’t. He backs away.

Oh my god. I’ve ruined everything.

“Sugar… no, you don’t,” he says, the picture of shock and awe personified. Should I be happy about that? It’s not horror.

“Yes I do.” That’s when shades of horror start to show, so I do what I always do when I panic, I ramble. “But don’t worry, because I know it’s new and soon, kind of, and I don’t expect you to say anything or even feel the same way at this point. Or ever. Maybe never. I fully realize—”

He finally stops me with a finger over my lips. “I… don’t know what to say, Harper,” he says, flat-out honest. “I didn’t expect—”

“Of course you didn’t.” I frown. “But why not?”

“Why would a woman like you ever fall for a guy like me?” he asks simply and it hits me. All this time I’m thinking I’m not in his league and he’s the one thinking he’s not in mine.

But then, maybe we’re both right. We’re not each other’s type. We’re opposites.

“What about my contract and your job?” he says. I snort. I don’t remember why I ever thought those things were so insurmountable because right now I could conquer anything and everything.

“After that hat trick you’re on this team for good,” I say and he grins, but it fades right away.

“What about your job? An agent and a player—"

“I’ll quit my job,” I say, undaunted and on a roll like I’m skating around every cone on the ice that he can throw out there.

“What about your family and their debt?”

“I’m an attorney. I’ll find another job.” I slap my forehead and shock reverberates through my system. It’s so simple. And yet so costly. I’d be giving up my dream job. But the funny thing is, I don’t feel even a smidgeon of angst. At least not now, not naked in bed with my dream man.

“Are you sure? You have a sweet gig with the Jett agency.”

I shake my head. “I can work for another kind of agency. Not a sports agency. Maybe I’ll work with musicians. They’re not hockey players, but I hear they can be fun.” My mind churns with the possibility and I run down the logistics of a career change while he looks at me. In disbelief?

“Fucking hell.” He growls and pulls me tight. “I can’t let you do that. And not just because it would make me insanely jealous to see you working with fucking musicians. We can’t…” He shuts his mouth and I wait a beat, but he’s not talking. My gut sinks, pulling my heart down with it as I try to read his mind. The dark cloud of his face scares me.