End Game (New York Stars Book 1)
End Game: 3RD PERIOD – Chapter 33

MY HEART IS POUNDING when we make it into the elevator after a car ride where we made out like teenagers.

Our whole world is on the brink of changing forever and, God, I’m so beyond ready for what’s about to happen that I’m jittery—not with nerves, just excitement.

Not only have I been waiting a lifetime for him, but last night was definitely a canapé and this morning was my appetizer. I’m starving—this girl needs her entrée.

I stare at him in the mirror’s reflection, knowing that he’s staring back at me.

My hand drifts until my pinkie connects with his.

He scoops it up in a soft clasp, like a pinkie promise, and it settles my soul in a way I didn’t anticipate.

Everything about this is a promise.

One I know he’ll never break.

That’s what I’m depending on here because a life without Liam Donnghal in it? I just can’t bear to contemplate that.

We’re silent as we make it into the apartment.

As we walk down the hall.

As we enter his bedroom.

That, it seems, is where all bets are off.

One moment, I’m twisting on my heel, about to reach for him. The next, I’m in his arms and he’s swooping me against his chest, holding me firmly and securely as he carries me, bride-style, toward the bed.

I don’t even have a chance to shriek because he swallows it with his mouth, taking mine in a searing kiss that brands my soul as his.

He doesn’t drop me on the mattress. Instead, he places me at the foot of the bed with our lips still locked.

My arms slide around his neck as I cling to him, loving that his focus is on our kiss. He doesn’t tear at my clothes; his fingers aren’t trying to replace the fly of my pants.

No, his hands stay on my hips.

They’re there, like branding irons—this time, he leaves an imprint on my body, not just my soul.

I lean up on tiptoe, wanting to get closer, feeling the height difference more than I ever have before. His head lowers as his tongue thrusts against mine, not exactly gentle but not rough either.

I can feel it though—it. Building. Growing. Liam’s never this controlled aside from on the ice and I just know that once he’s let loose, that’s it. I’ll be ruined for any other man.

Still, I love how he’s taking his time. How he’s coaxing me to life like the gentleman he is. He doesn’t need to bother—I’m so ready for him to fuck me, it’s unreal.

Because chivalry is sweet but I need to unleash the beast, I hook my leg on his hip. Not that it gets me far, seeing as he’s so goddamn tall, but still, the Lord loves a trier, doesn’t he?

Liam freezes for a count of one.

Two.

Thr—

I’m in the air, both my legs around his hips as he cups my butt. Fingers dig into the soft curves as his mouth tears into mine.

Fuck!

This is what I craved.

This is the unspoken promise I’ve felt between us for months. No, years.

I sob into his mouth with the relief that the dam is broken and I cling to him, arms tight around his neck as we feast upon one another.

It’s so beautiful. So… everything.

When he draws back, my eyes drift open.

“Gracie, are you crying?” he rumbles, his thumb coming to cup my cheek.

“I want you, Liam. I want you so badly.”

“Bébé, I’m yours,” he rasps, his mouth edging toward mine again.

Except this time, he doesn’t kiss me.

He nips my bottom lip, tugs on it, then bites harder.

“Mine.”

I groan then whimper the word, “Yours.”

He lowers me to the floor much to my disgruntlement, but that’s when his fingers replace my fly. Methodically, he unfastens it, then the zipper, and helps me out of my pants while I struggle to toe off my flats. As he works, I unbutton my blouse and toss it aside, leaving my bra for him to deal with.

When he’s kneeling at my feet, my heart skips as I whisper, “Liam?”

“Oui, minou?”

I swallow. “I need you.”

“You’ll have me,” he growls, pressing a kiss to my knee before letting his tongue slide over the length of my thigh until he replaces my panties.

When he nips at the fabric with his teeth, I shiver then gulp down oxygen as he drags them off, not stopping until they’re with my pants—discarded in a pile on the floor.

He looks up at me again, his gaze locked on my slit. One hand smoothes over my thigh and his thumb edges inward once he reaches the apex. I hiss as he slides through the folds all while he’s staring at me as if he’s a penitent sinner and I’m his salvation.

I work my heels apart, spreading my legs so he can see more. His gaze flashes where I wanted it to go and he licks his lips before he leans into me.

I can’t even be embarrassed when he takes a deep breath, one that has to be loaded with my scent because, suddenly, he’s there—head rocking back as his tongue sweeps through my folds on the hunt for my clit.

When he replaces it, I arch onto my tiptoes before resting on my heels, one hand sliding through his hair as I grip him in place and hold him firm. The way he devours me has me shuddering.

“That’s it,” I weep. “That’s it. Oh, God. You… don’t stop. Please, don’t stop. I need you, Liam. I need you so fucking much!”

This is Liam.

LIAM.

A part of me can’t wrap my head around it, but another part, the part that’s me from the waist down, doesn’t give a fuck.

This is Liam. He wants me. I want him. Ergo, we need to get slot A fitted into slot B. ASAP.

His hands cup my ass and, with brute strength, he lowers me to the bed.

I flow with the move, following his dominion as he continues to eat my pussy, burning me up with the hungry noises that escape him, teasing me while delivering on that promise of his with every suck of his lips and flick of his tongue.

“Oh, God, Liam, your mouth is so fucking—” I groan. “You’re driving me crazy!”

When I’m inches away from coming, the precipice so close that I sob with the power of its proximity, he pulls back.

One hand flicks the clasp of my bra, bearing my breasts to his hungry gaze, but he surprises me by getting to his feet and not mauling my nipples.

I can’t complain, though, not when I have a feeling that I know what’s about to happen.

Leaning on my elbows, my lower body quivering with how much of a tease he is, I watch as—yes, I was right!—he shucks off his sweater.

Then his tee.

Then his hands replace his fly.

Then he unzips it.

“Hurry the fuck up, Liam,” I whine.

His smirk has another shudder wracking my spine when he shoves at the waistband of his boxer briefs and suddenly, I’m eye to eye with him, able to study more than just his size but everything else too.

In my opinion, cocks are ugly, but his genuinely isn’t. It’s straight, no bend to the left or the right. It’s long, thick, cut, and there’s the faintest ombré from the tip to the base.

Seriously, this dick deserves to be part of a still life.

In fact, fuck that.

If anyone’s drawing it, it’s me.

My tongue is cleaved to the roof of my mouth as I take it in in all its freakin’ beauty, and then, I see the silver glint at the base of his shaft.

When he retrieves a condom from one of his pockets, I don’t argue as he sheathes himself, but, sitting up and with no shame, I touch the pubis piercing. “Why do you have this?”

“You’ll feel it rub your clit when I’m fucking you deep.”

Hello, swoon.

I stare at him, wide-eyed, not even annoyed when he chuckles.

Biting my lip, I trail my finger over his length, watching as it bobs. “Good thing you ate me out.”

He just hums.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I rock back on the bed and spread my legs.

His brows lift but he grabs his dick and slowly strokes it.

I replace my clit and start to finger it, watching as his gaze locks on my slit, which is weeping with my arousal.

As I play with my pussy, he continues to jack off, then I thrust two fingers inside me, scissor them, and whisper, “Takes a lot more than two fingers to replicate how thick you are.”

“You don’t need a replica,” he rumbles. “You got the real thing, minou.”

That was obviously the catalyst.

He snags a hold of my legs and drags me to the edge of the mattress, moving me around like I’m a doll. I didn’t know I needed that, but it’s so hot to feel this petite in comparison to him.

He levers my thighs wider apart as he settles at the foot of the bed on his knees. That’s when he rests his cock on my folds.

A heavy breath escapes me when, leaning on my elbows, I see the size difference.

“God, I’ve never wanted to be broken so much in my life,” I croak.

His gaze collides with mine as he places his fingers on the tip and presses down.

My pussy is clearly magical because it welcomes him.

Inch.

By inch.

By inch.

Each one has me shuddering because Liam is packing, but fuck if I didn’t realize how empty I’ve always felt before.

As I take him, slowly, surely, excruciatingly, I know that tomorrow, I’m not going to be able to walk without feeling it.

But there has to be some perks to having a hockey player for a lover—he can carry me everywhere, no?

Before I know it, he’s inside me. Liam. Taking up every inch. Liam. Not leaving any part of me empty.

LIAM.

When he’s all the way inside, that pubis piercing, so innocuous in appearance, peeps out and gives my clit a little hello.

Which is when my already wide eyes flare wider because fuck.

HELLO.

I practically shriek it, Adele-style.

My head rolls on my neck as I groan at the slippery pressure which is both oddly cool and deliciously warm.

He gives me a moment to acclimate to his size before he starts to thrust.

Carefully.

I know it must be killing him to take it slow, but I also know that he wants to get back in my pussy at some point in the future so destroying it isn’t the way forward.

Fuck, those slow thrusts are torturous though.

I can feel prickles of sweat beading through my pores with every move he makes, so I can’t even imagine what’s going on with him.

Just when I think he intends to drive us both crazy, his thumb replaces my clit.

In soft circles, softer than I usually like, he rubs it.

“You like that, ma belle?”

Suddenly, with that tumble into French, my lungs are burning and my heart is pounding and I’m there.

I’m fucking there.

“Oh, God, Liam. No one has ever made me—” I groan. “Fuck. You feel so good. You hit me so deep. Jesus Christ, I need you. Faster, please. Don’t stop. More. More! MORE—”

I scream out my pleasure. Its suddenness has me jerking upright, flinging myself against him, unable to bear the feet that separate us.

“That’s it, Gracie. You take my cock like a good girl. You fucking earned this pleasure. It’s yours,” he growls in my ear. “My dick is yours. You earned it.”

As my arms clutch at him, his move around my waist and he hauls me tighter which thrusts him deeper into me, filling me so fucking full that I scream, “Liam, you’re so fucking big. How the fuck am I—” I start sobbing before I can finish the sentence.

I cling even harder to him, bucking back so we’re almost dancing together as he pumps into me, impaling me on his length.

“You’re taking me so well,” he grinds out. “This beautiful pussy was made for me. You’re driving me crazy, baby girl. So fucking good. So fucking—”

“I can’t… I just can’t… Please. No more. No. I mean. More. Don’t stop. Give me all of you. Don’t ever stop,” I shriek, which is when I get my second miracle.

I come again.

And this time, it’s darker and deeper, plunging me to Stygian depths that are warm and comforting: a place I never want to leave.

Only, I have to.

And as I do, I hear him grunt as he comes inside me. The throbbing pulses of his cock cosset my pussy like a warm hug, making me wish there were no condom there to spoil things.

When he pushes me into the mattress, blanketing me, the only thing I can think to say is, “Knew you wouldn’t break your promise.”

But he’s already breathing heavily in my ear, sleep having robbed him from me.

I clutch at him, settling beneath his heavy weight and, feeling like I could start purring, snuggle into him and replace my own rest.

Not before I make a mental note to tell him when he wakes up that I’m on the shot.