Spiral (Off the Ice, #2) (67)

I have half a mind to check if there are cameras here, but it’s just us. He’s kissing me for real, and I let him taste me however he wants. My lungs burn and I desperately need to breathe, but I need this more. I need him more.

When he presses his hips to mine, letting me feel the hardness, I moan. He caresses my mouth with every sweep of his tongue, electrifying every dormant nerve in my body before he pulls back. I make a noise of protest, but then his palm glides over my cheek, and I lean into his touch, unable to resist the heat of his gaze thawing something reckless within me. As the pad of his thumb gently frees my lip from between my teeth, I whimper. I actually fucking whimper.

“Sage,” he rasps like it’s a warning, and I swear I lose every brain cell in my head. This time, I lunge at him and press my mouth to his so suddenly, he loses his balance. Elias snakes an arm around my waist and falls backward on the couch, with me on top of him.

Then, when I think I broke him, and he’s about to toss me off his lap, Elias drags my mouth right back. He kisses me with a kind of fervor that sends me into a dizzying spiral.

I swallow his grunts into my mouth. Every ounce of pressure from his lips descends to my core. My hips move of their own accord, and I shift so his jean-clad thigh is positioned between my legs, exactly where I want all of him. He studies the new position, and the warmth of his stare ignites my longing. I think he might say something to stop me, but instead he pushes his thigh upward, pressing it right against my throbbing core.

I’m nothing but need, flushed and wet from the crackling sensation of his touch. Testing the waters, unable to hold back any longer, I roll my hips, desperate for the friction. His gaze slides down my body with a fascination that nudges me to the edge.

It’s depraved, sinful, dirty, and yet I can’t stop. My hands rest on his shoulder, and I’m sure my nails are digging into him. A moan escapes me when he flexes his thigh, and I see the obvious bulge in his jeans. I reach behind me to rest a hand on his knee, lean back, and shamelessly rub myself on him like a cat in heat.

When his hands land on my thighs, I think I might pass out.

“Are you going to come on my thigh, Sage?”

Yeah, definitely going to pass out.

I become a whimpering, moaning mess when his fingers press into my soft flesh where my skirt has ridden all the way up. It’s been so long, I’m practically a hair trigger at this point, and I’m not ashamed. With his jaw clenched, he watches me grind against his thigh to apply a touch of pressure against my clit.

“Let me see you.”

I don’t hesitate. I pull my panties to the side so he has the perfect view. Another roll of my hips brings a moan to escape me.

Hearing it, he groans so loud, he muffles the rest of it with his hand. Elias’s gaze slides down to where my panties meet his jeans. “Touch yourself.”

I’m beginning to think Elias Westbrook could tell me to bark and I would.

Shamelessly, my fingers slip to my core, and I rub my clit as he watches. If I wasn’t so lost in my own haze, I’d swear he shivered.

Arousal coats my fingers when I slip them inside, and I wish they were his. The thought would make me fall over if it weren’t for Elias’s heavy hands resting on my thighs.

“Oh God,” I cry at the fire of ecstasy that whips through me, desperate for release.

His grip becomes tighter, and he squeezes his eyes shut like he’s in pain before leveling our gazes again. “Tell me what you’re thinking about, Sage.”

“You,” I say immediately. I try to stop there to keep myself from saying something stupid, but my mouth doesn’t get the memo. “Y-your fingers. Your tongue on my—”

Elias cuts me off with his lips. He devours every inch of my mouth, exploring it with his hot tongue. I practically come apart from that pressure alone.

I moan into the kiss, sliding one of my hands into his hair. Elias curses.

That’s when his thigh jerks, causing blinding friction against my clit. I yelp when my fingers hit the perfect spot, and buckle under the pressure. I burst into my release and slump forward onto his shoulder as my orgasm racks through me.

We stay like that for minutes that feel like hours. I don’t look up because I’m embarrassed for riding his thigh like a fucking horse, and now that the high is wearing away, I might say something equally stupid. But Elias makes that decision for me, because he stands and lifts me in his arms.

I instinctively lock my hands around his neck. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed.”

The devil between my legs clenches in anticipation, and I hope Elias doesn’t feel the way my heartbeat soars into overdrive. As we enter his room, he places me on the bed and strides over to the window to draw the blackout curtains shut. Wrapped in darkness, my eyes gradually adjust, revealing him as he gently lifts the comforter over me. What the hell?

He sits on the bed beside me, noticing my bewildered expression, and plants a tender kiss on my forehead. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” he murmurs, and stands to leave.

Oh. I desperately want him to stay, but I know there is only one way I should end the night. And it’s not with Elias pressed against me.

“And, Sage?” He pauses at the door. “Don’t ever again say you’re too difficult.”





TWENTY-NINE


ELIAS