Page 165 of Breakneck Hockey

“C’mon, baby. It’s driving me insane,” I say.

But I lose my own game today, too preoccupied with my feelings to continue to feed the animal in me. Fuck, when did I get distracted by feelings? Right. The moment I became obsessed with this man. Alderchuck’s lips part and I lean over to catch his breath.

“I love you,” he tells me again.

We rub noses, instinctively, and I forget everything else. There’s just him, me, and my dick pumping into him.

“More, more. I want more, Sutter.”

What kitten wants, he’ll get, but he might regret asking in a throaty voice like that. It sets me off again. This time, I grip under each knee, folding him almost in half, spreading him wide for me so my cock can hammer him like he wants it. He pants, barely able to get a sound out. My knees slide against the sheets, burning, my ass squeezes with pummeling force over and over as my lungs beg for fucking oxygen. There isn’t time to suck in what I need, but I don’t care, I suffer through the fire of dry lungs like I would if I were racing down the ice for the puck. Loud slaps clap the air and sweat trickles into my eyes. Alderchuck’s kitten claws make their mark, stripping the skin off my back painfully. I cry out, but I can’t stop fucking him, so I fuck him through the pain.

“You fucking bitch,” I hiss.

He laughs.

I get him back, plunging my teeth into the meat of his shoulder until he cries out, sucking painful bruises onto his skin, drawing out pleasure-filled moans.

His ass chokes my cock, trying to milk the cum from it, forcing it to deliciously scrape its way out, overwhelming me with pleasure. Make no mistake, we’re locked in yet anotherbattle, but this one isn’t for dominance—I win those—it’s for who’s the bigger simp when it comes to giving the other what he wants.

Alderchuck’s proving—flawlessly—that it’s me. And that’s fine. He deserves a man who’ll worship the fuck out of him in the way he wants it, and that man’s gonna be me for the rest of our lives.

“Fine, you don’t gotta tell me. Let’s see you cum, baby.”

He holds his breath, which makes me suck in mine, finally giving my body the air it needs, and his lips part. I squeeze the base of his cock for good measure, and attach my mouth to his shiver spot, sucking him through his orgasm. Hot cum hits my belly and he moans softly in my ear, his arms circling my neck, hanging on for dear life.

Casey thinks he’s gonna collapse into the sheets. I don’t fucking think so. I might be cock-whipped when it comes to his wants and needs, but I fucking own his ass and he’s always gonna know it.

“Open, kitten.”

I release his legs and straddle his torso, stroking and angling my cock to paint his face, hitting his tongue, his cheeks, and even some of his hair with sticky white. I use my thumb to gather stray bits and wipe them over his tongue.

Gripping his face in my hand by his jaw and before he can down my cum, I narrow my eyes. “Wait.”

Crawling down him enough, I tongue a long lick of his jizz from the crevices of his abs and then I shove my cum-covered tongue in his mouth, mixing our fluids as I kiss the fuck out of him like I’m a feral thing. And I might be. I’m always that way for him.

“Now you can swallow.” His Adam’s apple bobs with the motion. “That’s my good little Alderchuck.”

I’ve ravaged him just the way I like him, lips kiss-swollen, eyes dazed, limbs splayed and limp, and most importantly, decorated in “Sutter was here” love bites.

Okay, now we can both fucking collapse. I pull him onto my body, our chests heaving in sync as we let the aftermath of our fucking fade into the peace it always does. We’re the storm and the calm. I won’t have long until he gets hungry, but I steal as many of these post-orgasm moments as I can. They’re some of the best moments with him, our bond heightened as if my dick really does have magic powers.

I kiss the top of his sweaty head.

“Still not telling you shit, Sutter,” he murmurs, eyelids fluttering.

We’ll see about that. I’ve got an entire off-season to fuck it out of him. “Close your eyes, baby.”

He passes the fuck out, and I get to relish in the aftermath of our hurricane under a blanket of peaceful Alderchuck.

The gong sounds three times. Dinner. Not even my dick will convince Casey to miss dinner. We’ve already been up long enough to clean ourselves up, but I convinced him—read dragged his ass by a hand weaved into his thick hockey hair—to lie down with me again. I wanted to cuddle with my damn man. Sue me.

But cuddle time’s over. He’s up and into his clothes so fast. Nothing short of a zombie horde will stop him.

“Do they have mac ‘n’ cheese here, Sutter? Fuck, they’d better. If not, you’d better fucking find me some.”

That was the one con of bringing the bike. I couldn’t fit as much mac ‘n’ cheese as Alderchuck’s stomach requires, so I had Francisco bring a whole bunch for me. Casey doesn’t know that, though. I’ll surprise him with it later. After I’ve fucked with him.

“Did you see mac ‘n’ cheese anywhere in my bags? You’ll live for two weeks without it.”

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