Ice Games (Games #3)(21)
Author: Jessica Clare

I laughed and raised my hands in the air to begin undoing the mass of pins holding my hair in place. “It’s pretty much anchored to my head at the moment. Give me a second.”

“Take all the time you need,” he told me. “I’m admiring the view.” And he reached under my upraised arm and grazed the curve of one of my br**sts.

That sent a jolt rocketing through me. I bit back my moan and concentrated on undoing my hair from the jillions of pins they’d shoved into it to ensure it’d remain in place. I tore at them, anxious to get my hair loose, curious to see what Ty would do—or say—next.

It took me a minute, dragging pin after pin out of my hair, to free everything. As I worked, Ty’s hands moved over my back, stroking my skin in a lazy fashion that was utterly distracting, and it made my hands shake just a bit more. Freeing my hair seemed to take forever, but it was finally loose. I scratched at my scalp and shook my curls out to loosen the stiffness from the hairspray, and then let it fall over my shoulders.

“Mmm, much better,” Ty said in a husky voice that made shivers move all over my skin. “You never let your hair down, except when you’re with me. Did you realize that?”

He made it sound like I was doing it deliberately. Or was that just a double entendre? I didn’t know how to answer.

I didn’t need to, apparently. Ty’s hand grazed over my lower back, close to the band of my panties. “You have the sexiest lower back I think I’ve ever seen.”

That struck me as weirdly specific, and I couldn’t help the nervous giggle that erupted. “Lower back? That’s…random.”

“Not random at all,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. His fingertips brushed over my tailbone. “You have the cutest, tightest little butt that flares out. Just above, you have these two dimples at the base of your spine. It’s gorgeous. Makes me want to put my mouth there.”

I gave a little wiggle in his lap, aroused by that mental image. “What’s stopping you?”

“Oh, I plan on it. It’s just further down on the list of places I want to put my mouth.”

“You have a list?” I asked breathlessly.

“I do. I’ve been planning this list for days. Maybe even weeks.”

Really? He’d been thinking about sleeping with me for that long? “What’s first on this list?”

“Your mouth, obviously.”

I grinned, my fingers going to my lips. “An obvious choice. I’m disappointed by your lack of imagination.”

“Give a guy a minute,” Ty said, unruffled by my criticism. “You haven’t heard the entire list.” And his thumb skimmed along the band of my panties, dipping in to graze at my flesh.

“I’m sorry,” I said, in a tone that was anything but. “Please go on.”

“Well, once I kiss your mouth to shut you up—”

“Oooh—”

“—I’d go for your ears. You have such soft, sweet little ears that it makes me want to suck on them.” And his fingers reached through the tangle of my dark hair and brushed at my earlobe.

It was ticklish, and I squirmed. “Mmm. This is sounding better. Keep going.”

“Next, I’d probably kiss your jaw. Again, making sure to keep that mouth of yours quiet.” At my snort, he chuckled and his hand went to my shoulder, caressing it. “Then I’d probably go here, maybe move on to your collarbones.” His hand swept inward, brushing aside my hair and stroking the skin at the base of my neck.

I bit back the moan building in my throat. His skimming touches felt so very good. “And next?”

“Next, I’d have to start exploring the rest of you,” he told me. I felt him shift under my legs, and then his big hands slid forward and cupped my br**sts. “Starting with these.”

I gasped at the twin sensations that shot through my body. My hands automatically went to cover his—I didn’t know if I wanted to remove his hands or guide him.

“You have such beautiful little tits, Zara. Fucking love them.” He squeezed my br**sts and played with my n**ples, stroking a finger over them. “I know you’re a tiny girl, but these are the perfect handful. Perky, tight, and I bet they’d taste amazing in my mouth.”

A choked little gasp escaped my throat. I’d been trying to be so quiet, but he was overwhelming me with his touch, his words.

“Now that’s better,” he told me, and he rolled my n**ples between his fingers. “I was wondering if you were going to be silent the entire time.”

I could feel heat creeping into my face. “I…I just…” My hands clenched against his and then I dropped them, deciding that I did not, in fact, want to stop him at all.

“Wasn’t sure?” He leaned in and kissed my shoulder, gave my br**sts a squeeze even as he pulled me back against him. Now, my bare back rested against his chest. “Trust me, Zara, I want to hear all your responses. Understand?”

I nodded, shy.

“So when I stroke these pretty br**sts,” he said, and his thumbs brushed down over the curve of my breast. “I want to know if you like it or not. If you’re silent, I can’t tell.” His mouth was so close to my ear that his breath whispered against my skin, making me feel jittery inside.

“I like it,” I said softly. “I like it when you touch me.”

“Good,” he said, and nuzzled at my ear. “Because I intend on touching you quite a bit. We never even finished my list. You want me to go on?”

And he tweaked my n**ples again, eliciting another gasp from me.

“Well?” He asked.

“Yes,” I told him, and my voice was breathy with need. “Go on.”

He nipped at my earlobe, sending sensation spiraling through my body, and I felt his thumbs roll my n**ples again. The sound that came out of my throat was not quite a moan, but it wasn’t silence, either. “I’d go on,” he told me in that low, husky voice that was driving me wild and making me wet. “I’d play with those pretty br**sts for a long time, of course, but that’s just the appetizers. I’d want to get on to the main course. So I’d keep going. Tease this flat little belly of yours for a bit.” His hand lifted off my breast and slid down the center of my ribcage to the curving flat of my stomach, and then dipped into my bellybutton. “And then maybe I’d go lower.”

“Lower?” There was a quiver in my voice, and I wanted to roll my h*ps against him badly, but I forced myself to remain still.

“Oh, definitely lower, Zara,” he murmured against my neck. “That’s where all the good stuff is. Hidden in these sweet little panties of yours.” His fingers brushed over the mound of my sex, grazing me through the fabric. “How can I make a kissing list and not include the main course?”

My thighs clamped together when he cupped my mound. “Ty…I don’t know. What if I don’t…taste good?” My face burned at having to admit that out loud. But sex was a big intimacy jump for me. Oral sex? It was kind of blowing my mind at the moment, and it made me nervous.

“Baby, you’ll taste amazing.” His words were easy, reassuring. “You want me to make your first time good, right?”

I nodded, my torso feeling cupped against his. I loved Ty’s body against mine.

“Do you trust me?”

Again, I nodded. He was my partner. I’d let him hold me over his head and fling me around the ice. How could I not trust him?

“Then let me show you how good I can make it for you,” he told me. His fingers brushed against the waistband of the front of my panties, hinting at what he wanted to do to me. “Okay?”

“Okay,” I breathed, my entire body quivering with nerves. God, I was so freaking skittish right now. He was going to get tired of having to encourage me, I knew it. Ty probably had experienced women in his bed all the time. He hadn’t been thrilled I was a virgin. But he was also being so achingly sweet at the moment that I hoped this would go on forever.

Ty sucked on my earlobe, his hand massaging my lower belly, and I moaned. I was definitely slick between my thighs, responding to his touch despite my jangling nerves. My pulse had centered low between my legs, and all of the blood in my body seemed to circulate from there with a heavy thump thump thump pulsing right at my clit.

I held my breath when his big hand slipped under the waistband of my panties, and I felt his fingers brush against my sex again, exploring. My body tensed, waiting.

And then he slid two fingers down the wet seam of my sex, parting my lips.

I cried out, arching against him. Oh god. That felt really good. I’d touched myself there before, of course—I was no stranger to masturb**ion. But having a guy touch me there? Totally different—and a thousand times more powerful.

“Ah, Christ, Zara. You’re wet as hell, baby.” His fingers stroked up and down my folds, teasing, and then circled the entrance of my sex before gliding upward to circle my clit. “Look at you, just dripping with need. So hot.”

I whimpered.

He pulled his fingers out of my panties and held them up, showing me the gleaming wetness coating his hand. “Beautiful.” And then he shocked me by putting his fingers in his mouth and sucking them clean. He groaned then. “Knew you’d taste amazing.”

“Ty,” I breathed, my breath getting raspy and harsh with excitement. I wriggled on his lap, utterly aware of the hard line of his sex pressing up against my backside. I wanted him to touch my p**sy again. I wanted him to finger me more. I just…didn’t know how to ask for it. So I said, “Ty, please,” and clung to him.

“I think it’s time we head to my room,” he said abruptly. “You shouldn’t have your first time on the couch, and if we keep playing, I’m not going to be able to walk.”

“Oh.” I blushed, mentally picturing him over me on the couch. I kind of liked that image.

His hands gestured for me to get up off of his lap, so I did, feeling a little bereft. My arms crossed over my br**sts protectively as I stood, waiting for him to lead the way.

Ty got to his feet, and he immediately turned me and drew me against him. “Don’t look so sad, Zara. We’re not even close to done.”

“I’m not sad—” I protested, but he shut me down with a hot, seeking kiss. I moaned against his mouth, my arms going around his neck. I could taste myself on his lips, and that was wildly erotic, as much as the press of his c*ck against my belly. My n**ples grazed his t-shirt and I whimpered, even as the kiss deepened. He was such a good kisser—when his mouth was on mine, I forgot everything else.

He was also a distracting kisser. Before I knew it, we were at the doorway to his room and I pulled away in a daze, glancing around. Dirty clothes were strewn everywhere, and the blankets at the foot of his bed were crumpled into a pile. Typical guy.

“Sorry,” he told me. “Maybe we should have gone to your room.”

I thought of my mascara and tear-stained pillow that was totally wet from crying and probably a good bit of slobber, since that went hand-in-hand with sobbing. “Here’s fine,” I told him.