Page 146 of Ice Dance Hockey

No doubt about it, Rhett will have the entire Dean’s office eating out of his hand. They don’t stand a chance.

The heavy thud of my skates dropping to the floor echoes through the room, and my black tights are quick to follow. Rhett’s fingers grip the hem of his T-shirt, and he yanks it over his head, knocking the ball cap off, and releasing his coif of hockey hair into the wild.

He’s got more definition since the last time I saw him. A shit ton of bruises, too.

Rhett doesn’t waste time and strips down to nothing, his oversized dick hard and ready.

“Missed being full of you, baby,” I murmur.

"Lube?"

“First drawer.” I slip off my dance belt, letting my cock spring out, stroking it a few times. Our sex contingency plan is to do as much video sex as possible when he’s away, but training camp came with rules and we only managed to get one session in. Jerking off has lost all appeal now that I’ve got Rhett in my life.

Two lubed fingers breach my hole, and I cry out because they’re fucking cold. I pull a knee into my chest so that he can go deeper, deeper,deeper.

“Just … just fill me, baby.”

“Not yet.” He smirks, lubing my cock with his other hand. “I want to see you play with yourself.”

He’s always so calm, even in the face of searing need. It’s not fair. So, I stroke myself, giving him a show, hoping to tug his strings enough that he shoves into me. I’ll break him. And I do, getting him to that edge where he wants me so badly, he can’t contain himself.

I open myself wider, stretching myself obscenely for him, begging him with my body to shove his dick inside me.

“Damn it, Logan,” he growls.

I get what I want, the tip of his dick ready to enter me. My lips curl upward. “I had to use toys while you were away.”

“Yeah,” he says, toying with me, sinking in a little and then pulling out. “Did they satisfy you?”

“Barely. You have a lot to make up for, and if you don’t get inside me soon?—”

A hard shove has him halfway in, and me gasping and then sighing. He’s in, we’re joined … but I need more.

“You fucking brat.”

I smirk.

The bed is the right height for his hips to meet with my ass. He tugs me toward him, and I slide down his cock. My body knows him now; when he’s not inside me, I’m missing my other piece.

“You feel so good,” he rasps, snapping his hips, setting a rough pace. Rhett grips under my thighs, trapping me in place, the perfect target for his cock. “You make me lose all control, Lo.”

Then he lets go, pummeling my ass without mercy. I love the pressure; I love the wildness in his eyes. For a second, a shadow hardens his features—worried about me again—but then it passes. He leans over top of me, caging me with his arms, my personal haven.

I’m still stroking my cock, trying to keep in time with the wild way he’s riding me.

“I can’t … I can’t … Lo, come with me.”

My neck opens and his lips latch to it—that’s what sends me over the edge. I stroke faster and hold my breath as long strings of cum ooze from my dick, onto my belly. He freezes above me, paralyzed, and then he’s groaning out his orgasm against my neck.

He moves to pull away too fucking soon. “Don’t you dare, Elkington.”

“I should know better.” He kisses my forehead and slides us up the bed so that he can curl around me, not caring how cum-covered we are. I run my fingers through his sweaty hair as we catch our breath, relishing the feeling of having him deep inside me. “I own you now.”

“Love isn’t ownership, Rhett.” Except it kinda is because my heart is in his hands and that’s a lot of power to have over someone.

“It damn well is, but that’s okay because you own me, too.”

That’s good because I’m already about to put that to the test. “Let’s talk about Scott.”

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