Meet Your Match (Kings of the Ice #1) Read Online Kandi Steiner

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Kings of the Ice Series by Kandi Steiner
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Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
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“Don’t judge,” I breathed.

“Pet, the only thing I’m judging right now is how fucking soaked you are,” he said, kissing the inside of my ankle once he had my socks discarded. “Stubborn girl. How long have you been this wet for me?”

I ripped out of his hold, pressing my toes into his chest. “Don’t call me pet.”

“You like it.”

I tilted my chin in defiance, but couldn’t fucking deny it — so I kept my mouth shut.

Vince smirked in victory, and then he grabbed one of my ankles in each hand and slowly, painfully slowly, opened me.

His eyes drank me in as he spread my legs, and he stared at where I knew I was glistening for him before he dropped to his knees in front of me. He placed one of my feet on the bench, the other on the floor, and then he hooked my hips and tugged me even closer, my hands holding the bar now working overtime to keep from falling on top of him.

He seemed to notice because he nodded at that bar with a wicked grin. “Hold tight,” he said, and then he descended.

It was a slow, teasing torture — his lips kissing up my thigh that was propped on the bench. He flicked his tongue over my clit just once before he was kissing down the other thigh, and I squirmed, gripping the bar so hard I wondered if I’d callous.

Vince Tanev was on his fucking knees for me.

There was no thought more erotic than that one.

Just when I thought I’d combust from him kissing and licking and nipping at all the skin around where I really wanted him, he wrapped his arms up and under my thighs, holding the weight of me before burying his face.

His tongue covered me, hot and wet and with the perfect pressure to make me tremble beneath the touch.

“Oh, fuck,” I cried, trying to sit my ass back on the bench so I could spread wider for him. But he kept me up, kept me shaking and holding on for dear life as he worked. My heart was pounding, the reality of the moment stealing my breath. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it was a bad idea, that I wasn’t being professional, that this would all blow up in my face.

I couldn’t find it in me to stop. I never wanted him to stop.

“Jesus, Maven,” he breathed against me, swirling his tongue over my clit before sucking it between his teeth. I bucked my hips, and he did it again, and again, finding the rhythm to drive me toward an orgasm. “So fucking sweet. So fucking you.”

“God.” In a feat of strength, I held onto the bar with one hand, and the other jutted out for his hair, guiding him where I wanted him.

And then all contact was lost.

My ass dropped to the bench, and Vince grabbed my hand, guiding it back to the bar.

“I said hold tight,” he reminded me, and then he kissed me hard, his mouth wet with my pleasure before he crawled down my body again. And he moved even slower this time, taking the opportunity to forcefully tug at the top of my dress until my modest breasts spilled over the top of it.

He licked his lips, my taste there, like he was savoring every sip of me as he palmed my swells and rolled his thumbs over my nipples.

“I knew you had pretty tits even before I felt you that night in the hot tub,” he said, shaking his head in awe as he took in the sight of me. And what a sight it had to be — my dress shoved up over my hips, pussy wet and spread open, breasts spilling out, hair mussed, lipstick smudged. “But fuck, my imagination was so far off. These,” he said, squeezing me before he leaned down to circle one of my nipples with his tongue. “Are perfect.”

“Vince,” I breathed.

“Mm? Is there something you need, pet?”

I glared at him, but before I could press my toes into his chest and kick him away, he snatched my ankle, spreading me wide.

“You need only say it,” he teased, a challenge in his eyes as he held me like that.

I was tempted to kick out of his grasp, but instead, I leaned up a bit, enough to stare down at him when I said, “Eat. Me.”

He grinned. “With pleasure.”

He didn’t delay this time. He enveloped me — wrapping my thighs in his arms again, balancing me in the air as my grip tightened on the bar. His mouth was ravenous, his tongue that of an expert, sliding up and down and in me. He used the tip of it to flick my clit in a quick, merciless motion, holding me to him when I tried to back out.


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