Caged (Gold Hockey Book 11) by Elise Faber (romantic love story reading TXT) 📕

like a rocket taking off. Not a gentle slope to that precipice. It was straight the fuck up, and her engines were firing on all fucking cylinders until . . .

Boom.

Explosion.

It began at her clit, his mouth latched tight, his tongue flicking rapidly against the bundle of nerves. Then that wave of pleasure spread like a tsunami, flowing through her folds, clenching tight against the finger he’d pushed deep, was curling up against her g-spot. Every muscle in her body went taut for one brief moment and then lax as bliss flowed through her.

“Fuck,” she whispered, going limp against the mattress. “Fucking hell.”

Ethan prowled up her body, gathered her into his arms, one palm smoothing her hair back. “Fuck, is right,” he murmured, his mouth moving to her ear, nipping lightly at the lobe, his words making her shiver. “Fucking hell, you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever been given the privilege to lay eyes on.”

Gravel in his voice, whispering over her skin, fanning the fires between her thighs. She rolled them, pushing him back to the bed, leaning down and slanting her mouth across his.

The sleek dart of his tongue, the soft sting of his teeth against her bottom lip, his kiss was sustenance and torture. Her lungs screamed for oxygen, but she could get enough air by kissing her way across his chest, sucking it in through her nose as she laved the divot of his throat, used her teeth lightly at his nipples. His muscles grew harder with each inch of skin she paid homage to, until he felt as hard as granite beneath her.

She kissed her way down, lower and lower until . . .

“There you are, gorgeous,” she murmured.

His cock was pressed against the front of his boxer briefs, its glistening head just barely poking out the top, and she gave in to the urge to taste that moisture, flicking her tongue out to lap up the salty drop.

The brackish flavor had barely hit her taste buds before she found herself on her back, Ethan on top of her. His color was high, his hair tumbled, his beard slightly askew, but it was the way he was looking at her that had her thighs clenching around his.

Slowly, his hand slid up her side, the rough callouses on his palm making her squirm, especially when he trailed it in, pausing right below her breast.

“Eth,” she murmured, trying to shift so that it would move just a few inches higher.

He smiled, but there wasn’t anything amused about it.

She felt like the seal swimming frantically for shore, a Great White circling beneath, readying to strike.

If his cock brought her as much pleasure as his mouth had earlier, she was in very good hands . . . penises? Teeth? Tongue? Hands again? All of the above. Ha.

That desire tempered, his smile softening. “What?” he murmured, tracing the edge of her mouth with his thumb. She realized her amusement must have bled over into a smirk.

“I was thinking I was in good hands”—her gaze dropped—“or cocks.”

That cock in question twitched against her. “As in plural?”

She swatted at him. “You know what I mean.” Then arched a brow. “Unless you keeping your underwear on means you have something you need to tell me?”

He shoved his boxers down, his cock springing forth. “Nothing to fear on that front.”

She clamped a hand to her chest, feigned swooning. “Well, thank God for that.”

“Thank God for your tits and the way they jiggle when you do that.”

“Thank God,” she countered, loving his expression—the open need, the desperate desire sharpening the edges of his face—as she reached for his cock, stroking a finger over the velvety head. “For your single penis. Because I need it inside me.”

He cursed, using far more creative language than she’d anticipated.

“Wow,” she breathed.

His lips found a spot behind her ear, one so sensitive that she felt her pussy clench. “Wow, what?”

She turned her head, halted with her mouth a hairsbreadth from his. “I like it when you talk dirty to me.” A hand sliding down his stomach. “Remember how you asked me if I always stroke things so carefully?” Her fingers wrapped around him, squeezed. “I promise, I do.”

Another curse, Ethan letting his weight come down on top of her, trapping her hand between them. Not that she minded, especially considering she had it wrapped around his cock.

“I don’t think you’re shy at all,” he murmured, lips finding her throat and sucking deeply.

“I don’t feel sh-shy,” she said, the fingers of her other hand drifting up his spine, slipping into the short locks, gripping tight. “With you, I feel like I can just be Dani.”

Motionless.

He took a turn to play statue and froze on top of her.

For just a single heartbeat. Then his mouth was on hers, and she was being devoured again, that strong, powerful shark threatening to swallow her whole. His hands were on her ass, her hips, her breasts, cupping her cheek so he could kiss her deeper and harder and—

He pulled back, one hand flat on the bed next to her face, the other on her jaw. “That is the sexiest thing you could have ever said to me.”

“Eth—”

Another kiss that stole her breath, only this time she was ready for the intense, demanding man on top of her. She kissed him back, glad when he lifted up enough so she could use her formerly trapped hand to fondle his cock. He groaned into her mouth, hips jerking forward.

“I should probably warn you that it’s been a while,” he said, another groan tumbling from his lips as she showed him how well she could stroke.

“Then get inside me and make it less of a while.”

He swallowed. “Dani,” he growled. “I’m trying to make this good for you.”

“I don’t need good”—not strictly true, but she needed this man inside her, and if his oral skills were any indication, she already knew it would be fan-fucking-tastic, so he didn’t have anything to worry about—“I just need you.”

“We don’t have to