He felt his balls tighten, knew he was close, but she hadn’t come yet. Though it killed him, he slowed, circling his h*ps gently again, still embedded deep into her hot, tight passage. He needed to think about something else to pace himself. As always, when he needed to slow his orgasm, his thoughts went back to hockey. Drills. That was what he needed to think about. Think about passing. Better yet, passing in the offensive zone. That was what he needed to do. Pass to her—get her to come first. He slid a hand between them, searching for her clit.
When he found it, she nearly came off the floor. “Dane!”
That’s right, baby. Now he was on the offense. He brushed her cl*t with his thumb, circling the wetness over it as she shuddered under him, crying out. Her nails were scratching the shit out of him, but he didn’t care. He wanted her to come just as hard as he was about to. Patiently, he continued to circle it with the pad of his thumb, waiting for her to fall apart and then he’d finish claiming her. But first, she needed to score.
A tiny, keening whimper rose in her throat and she pushed against his thumb, harder and harder, and then froze. He felt her p**sy flutter and clench around him, hard, as she began to come, and he continued rubbing, extending her orgasm. She continued to clench around him, her voice calling out his name in a broken, rasping half sob, and he lost his control. He shuddered, trying to think about hockey. His mind was full of visuals of sliding the puck home, like he was sliding his c*ck home inside her. With one final, hard thrust, he came, gritting his teeth against the yell of pleasure that threatened to erupt, emptying himself deep inside her even as she quivered and her p**sy clenched around him in multiple aftershocks. He continued to move in her, slowly thrusting even as he came down from his orgasm, c*ck throbbing, blood pounding in his ears, and then he collapsed to the side of her, pulling her close in his arms.
They lay there for a long minute, neither one moving. Dane felt his heartbeat slowing, felt Miranda’s breathing returning to normal.
Then she gave a low, throaty chuckle. “Are we going to cuddle in the hallway?”
He leaned in and kissed her shoulder. “Would you rather cuddle in the kitchen?”
She smiled, her eyes still closed, the blissfully dreamy expression on her face. “I was thinking more along the lines of the bedroom, but hey.”
Dane grinned at that, thinking of the bright blue vibrator she’d had in there. “We can go to the bedroom.”
She untangled herself from him and stood, moving back into the bathroom and grabbing fresh towels. “I should probably clean this water up first.”
“Leave it,” he said, then turned away and disposed of his condom. “Come on.”
Taking her hand in his, he tugged her back into the bedroom and down onto the bed. They were still wet from the shower, but he didn’t care and he suspected she didn’t either. Her dark, glossy wet hair flew across the blankets and she grinned up at him. “You don’t look like you’re in a cuddling mood.”
“No? How do I look?”
She ran a finger over one pectoral, outlining it. “Predatory,” she said, the sound a sigh of delight. “Like you want to capture me and eat me.”
“While that sounds delicious, I have other plans for you tonight,” he said, and waggled his eyebrows at her.
She gave him a curious look, a smile curving her lips. “Oh?”
He loved looking down at her, soft and warm and curvy under him. Dane grinned. Was it possible to fall in love in a week? He wasn’t a romantic, but there was something about being with Miranda that made him feel whole, centered.
He liked it. And he liked her. And while the timing wasn’t ideal, he loved being with her, and he was going to keep being with her. Colt and Grant would just have to adjust.
He wouldn’t tell her that just yet, though. Getting all sappy and yakking about feelings with a chick after a week would probably make any sensible woman run like the wind.
He teased her belly button with one finger, toying with the dip. “How much do you trust me?”
The look that Miranda gave him was immediately wary. “Why?”
Well, damn. His playful mood deflated in an instant. She looked almost frantic with worry, her body tensing under him. What was going through her head right now? “In bed,” he clarified. “How much do you trust me in bed?”
“Oh.” Her fear dissipated so abruptly that it stunned him. “Of course I trust you in bed.”
Well, what the f**k was all that about? Why was she so terrified of trusting him? Had she been burned in the past and that was why she flinched every time trust came up? A fierce, possessive surge swept through him. Whatever bastard had hurt her, he was going to find the man and take him apart, piece by piece. Miranda was a funny, loving, sexual, incredible woman, even if she didn’t think she was.
All he had to do was prove it to her. And if that took three weeks or three years, he was up to it.
“So you trust me?” he repeated. “Trust me to bring you pleasure?”
She nodded at him, her brown eyes soft and sexy. “Of course.”
“Trust me to make you come so hard your toes will curl?”
She grinned and wiggled her toes at him in response. “Every time.”
He reached over her and opened the nightstand drawer, then pulled out the bright blue vibrator. “Enough to let me use this on you?”
Her playful look froze on her face, and then she blushed—not the delicate, charming usual blush—fiery red. “Dane!” Her outraged expression was delightful to see. “You’re not supposed to know about that.”
“Not supposed to know about what?” he teased, pulling it out of the drawer and examining it with great thought. She reached for it, but he continued to hold it out of her reach. “I had to dig for condoms earlier, and I saw this. Hope that’s all right.”
“It’s just embarrassing, that’s all,” she said in a hushed voice, and then reached for it again. “Give it back. I don’t need it when I have you anyhow.”
“My sweet, darlin’ Miz Hill,” he drawled, and winked down at her. “Now that’s where you’re wrong. I think there’s plenty of room in this bed for the three of us.”
Her blush gave way to confusion. “You want to use my vibrator?”
Dane grinned. “Maybe some other night you can use it on me. I’m more interested in using it on you and watching you come again.”
The crimson returned to her cheeks.
He moved up on the bed and kissed her lips. She was pliant underneath him, and he detected a slight tremble of her body—in excitement or uncertainty?
“I won’t do it if you don’t want me to, Miranda,” he murmured against her lips. “Not if you’re embarrassed.”
“A little,” she said.
“What embarrasses you about it?”
She thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess when we have sex, we’re in it together so I’m not thinking too much about you staring at me or watching my reactions. But with this…”
He chuckled and slid a knuckle over the soft swell of one breast, enjoying how her nipple tightened under his touch. “You think I’m not going to participate here? That it won’t turn me on?”
“Kind of silly, huh?”
“Very silly,” he agreed. “Hell, I got turned on just watching you make fire when we were on the trip.”
“Must have been because I was handling all that wood,” she teased, lightly skimming her fingers over his arms. Then she looked over at him and bit her lip. “It’s okay,” she said after a moment. “I want to do this. I trust you, remember?”
He felt like he’d been given a gift. Miranda trusted him to take her out of her comfort zone, and he wouldn’t disappoint her. Dane kissed her again, nibbling and sucking at her lower lip. When she gave a low moan in her throat and her arms slid around his neck, he slipped from her grasp and began to move down her body, kissing a path. Her chin. Her collarbones. Her breastbone. He lingered at the twin mounds of her br**sts, so lovely and full. He nuzzled each nipple and made them stand erect, leaving the tips wet and gleaming and Miranda squirming and panting under him. Farther down, he kissed her belly button and noticed that her body was beginning to quiver with tension. A good sort of tension, he hoped. When he got to her mound and pressed a kiss there, she didn’t make a sound. He glanced up and saw her dark eyes watching him, biting her lip as if she were afraid to show him her reactions.
Well now, that wouldn’t do at all. She was thinking too much again.
Dane sat up and slapped her thigh lightly. “Pull up your knees, baby.”
She frowned at him, and slowly did as she was told, pulling her knees close to her br**sts.
“Hug them to you,” he said. “Lock your hands behind them and don’t release until I tell you to.”
He watched the blush return, and she pulled her knees in tighter, her head tilted to the side. Now she could no longer see what he was up to, and he’d have the freedom to work her over like he wanted to.
She was lovely like this, her legs pulled back, displaying long, lean thighs pressed together tightly. Between them, the dark strip of her p**sy and the wet gleam of the folds there. She looked so delicious that he leaned in and brushed his tongue over the wetness, tasting the salty flavor of her.
She shuddered underneath him, her breath catching in her throat. Now, that was more like it.
With one finger, he parted her p**sy lips and slid his finger back and forth, making sure she was juicy and wet. She was—her core was hot and slick, and he rubbed the slippery wetness up and down through her labia. She whimpered every time he touched her clit, but he didn’t linger there.
“Soft and pretty. And so very wet. Are you excited about me using the vibrator on you?”
The tremble swept over her again, and her p**sy clenched when he dipped a finger deep into her core. He teased it deep, then slid it back out again, and waited for her response.
“Y-yes,” she finally allowed. “It feels…naughty.”
“Well, I happen to love a naughty girl,” he said, and rewarded her with another thrust of his finger. She jerked her h*ps in response, but she seemed tense, waiting for something. He knew what it was.
He clicked on the vibrator, and she seemed to almost vibrate with need herself. He didn’t insert it—not just yet. He wanted her to anticipate it for a minute more. Instead, he continued to let his finger circle the heat of her core, then glided it through the wetness back up to her clit, as if he had all the time in the world. All the while, she made soft whimpering noises and her legs tightened and flexed, over and over again, her thigh muscles working repeatedly. It was beautiful to watch.
Miranda’s vibrator was a long, smooth blue column, the head slightly flared and curved to brush against her G-spot. It shivered in his hand, and he spread her p**sy lips and laid the vibrating head of it against her clit.
Miranda nearly came off the bed. A cry escaped her throat and she clenched, hard. “Keep your legs up,” he reminded her, and placed his own arm over hers to keep her stationary.