"A boy like Nico wouldn't know what to do with you, Val." His voice is husky, ridged. He rubs me in all the right places.
I'm on fire. My core is burning and dripping with heat. I squeeze my thighs together, trying to build friction. Something, anything, to ease this pain. I'd touched myself before, but it never felt like this. I was convinced that nothing would ever feel like this.
"And you would?" I choke. My pulse is hammering over and over again in my throat. My hands still clutching him like he's a life preserver and I'm drowning in shark infested waters.
He chuckles darkly. I can feel his smirk on my skin. He runs the tip of his nose up and down my neck slowly, humming to himself as he does.
"I know exactly what to do with this body, baby. It was made for me. Every inch of you, all of it is mine, Vallie."
I nod my head softly, my stomach fluttering. I already knew that, but hearing it from him means I'm not crazy. Bishop and I? We have this connection, and now, I'm not the only one who notices it.
Feeling his soft lips on the skin of my neck. An inaudible moan leaves my mouth as I tilt my head giving him more access. I can feel the smile on his lips.
"B, touch me," I choke out pushing my hips towards the bulge in his pants. I was a burning house in search of water.
He presses his body into mine, molding us together above our clothes. I know he can feel how perfectly we line up, how perfectly we fit. I can feel how hard he is. How excited he is for me, and only me, right now.
I lift my leg, wrapping it gently around his hip, allowing him to slip perfectly in between my legs. His cloth covered member rubs against my jeans, and I moan loudly.
"Bishop…" I trail leaning my head back on the wall. He goes stiff, and my eyes snap open. There it is, regret shining in his eyes.
"No, don't. Stay with me in this moment. I need you. God, can't you see that? B, I'm gonna combust if you don't soothe this ache. I need you, please," I beg tightening my leg around his waist, anchoring him to me.
His jaw tightens and he sighs, opening his mouth to talk but closes it again. He leans back towards me, placing butterfly kisses on my neck.
"I'm not going to touch you anymore than I already have. Are we clear?" he hisses in my ear and I whine, ready to beg for him again. I need this, more than I need to breathe.
"But, if you keep quiet, I'm going to show you how to make yourself feel good, so good, Vallie baby."
The dissatisfaction settles in my stomach. I want his hands on me, his fingers, his tongue, all of him. He moves his hands to lay flat on the wall beside my head again, keeping his hands away from my body. He's not touching me, but he wants to.
"Unbutton your jeans and slip your fingers inside your panties," he whispers.
I sigh, taking my right hand and doing as he says. I slide my hand into my panties, and I gasp at how wet I am. I can feel my juices slip between my fingers.
"If it were my hand, I'd circle your clit first, just to tease you. I'd let you get used to the feeling of my big hands and long fingers on your tiny little pussy."
I moan low in my throat as my fingers circle my clit, just as he says. My eyes close imagining him, his fingers touching me, rubbing me.
"God, I bet you taste like fucking lemons. I can smell it. Sucking on all that candy all these years," he groans.
"How about you taste for yourself," I snip. An internal battle, angels and demons fighting inside of him keeping him from saying yes.
"Move lower, insert one finger inside you and tell me what it feels like," he orders.
I dip my middle finger inside myself for the first time in my life. I rubbed my clit before, but nothing like this. This was all new, and all too much. The sensation is unlike anything I'd ever felt before. I can't even think straight.
"What does it feel like, Val?"
This is erotic. The air is so charged with sexual tension that I can't even breathe.
"Waa-rm…Wet…uh, tight," I strain out.
"I bet it is tight, baby. Warm and wet just for my cock. You want my cock stretching you out, don't you?"
I nod, quickly moving my fingers faster. I can hear my lubricant slapping against my skin. The sounds echoing off the locker room walls. The smell of my arousal lingers between us keeping us tangled in our own world.
His forehead is resting on mine, like he is struggling to stand up.
"Pump in and out, slowly at first, and then pick up the pace."
I follow his instructions down to each filthy detail, pumping my fingers in and out of myself. He's in charge of my body without even touching me.
"Another finger…"
"Harder…"
Command after command sends me into a blissful heaven. Something big is swelling in my stomach, something I have never felt before. I'm tingly all over, warm, and heating up by the second. And of course, Bishop knows it.
"Come for me, Valor, come all over your hand like you would on my dick. Squeeze me so tight, baby. Milk my cock," he hisses.
I tighten around my fingers as my orgasm hits me like a semi-truck. I moan out loudly and Bishop covers my mouth as I ride out my high. My eyes roll back into the back of my head.
I slump against the brick wall. My legs are going numb. The exhaustion from the game and my orgasm hitting me at once.
"Breathe baby…" he coos in my ear, easing me out of my high.
My breaths are labored as I move my fingers from my jeans. They are soaked with my hot, sticky liquid. My blush coats my cheeks, embarrassment zips through my body. I look around for something to wipe them off when I feel Bishop's warm mouth wrap around my small fingers.
He swirls, twirls, dips, and curves. Cleaning my fingers completely. My shocked eyes never leave his, not even when he removes them with a pop.
"Fucking lemons," he groans softly before pressing his lips back to mine for another earth breaking kiss.
I smile into the kiss wrapping my arms around his neck and happily pulling him closer to me tasting myself on his tongue.
I thought this would be the start of our happily ever after. He'd finally seen me.
But it was only the beginning of our inevitable end.
"My God, could you have bought a heavier couch?" Nico protests. His difficult breathing can be heard for miles as his back appears at the top of my steps.
"Shut the fuck up. I'm basically carrying this motherfucker by myself, Hooy morzhovy." The top of Kai's head is showing over the couch as he carries the couch from the back. I can only imagine the last few words are bitter Russian insults, but I simply stand at the top of the steps directing where the couch is supposed to go.
"Fuck off, not all of us eat people for breakfast and break bones for fun, fucking asshole," Nico grumbles as they rotate the couch, setting it down on the floor.
"Are you ladies done bickering?" I ask as I start to sort through boxes on the floor. I didn't have much to move, mostly because I didn't own a lot.
"I need a beer," Kai grunts and goes to the kitchen. His Russian accent is still harboring over his English words. Nico flips him two middle fingers while his back is turned to him and I smirk.
A bunch of teenagers, that’s who I choose to surround myself with.
Malakai 'Kai' Petrov is a six-five Russian monster. Every inch of him is concealed in muscle. Other teams in the NHL mentally sigh when they figure out he is just a goalie. This is Kai's second year in the NHL, both with the Fury. When he was drafted we hit it off, well, after he growled at me. Literally growled at me like some kind of rabid dog.