Page 33 of Breakneck Hockey

I get a good look at him from this vantage point. Sutter’s huge. A monster on skates. If I were to categorize him by dog, I’d have to go with rottweiler because of his tendency toward aggressiveness, but he’s also loyal. I’ve picked up on how committed he is to his friends, even if that doesn’t apply to me.Wait. The seventy-leven locks on his doors. He’s part Doberman, too. Protective. Sutter’s a Doberweiler.

He's also mean-looking until he smiles. Sutter’s always on guard, never resting from a vigilant perch in his mind.

Somehow that energy’s bleeding into me right now in a sexual way. Ownership. He owns me. At least he thinks he does, and I get why. I turn into needy puddy when I get near him.

He takes both my wrists in one hand, pinning them above my head and proceeds to fuck me with his ass. Fucking hell. My dick’s gonna feel this tomorrow like my ass would.

“You’re so tight, Sutter. Feel so fucking good.” I’m gonna cum quickly like this, but he slows down, reminding me that I’m not in charge of when I cum. He is. “Please. Please let me cum. I won’t even be a lippy little shit for once.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He holds me in place with his mega grip. I’m all his. Trapped. Prey. His sex doll he’s using to get off.

“Okay,” his voice husks into my ear. “Cum, kitten.”

Sutter rides me through the most intense orgasm of my life and he shudders too, his ass trembling around mine. He falls to the side of me, on his back.

“What the fuck was that, Sutter?”

“I came from my ass.”

“Just your ass? Like, like an assgasm?” Nothing came out of his dick.

“Yeah, dude. Never had one? You’re missing out.”

I haven’t. But now I wanna. “Do it to me later,” I demand.

“Later,” he promises. “So? Who was in charge?”

I shouldn’t give him the satisfaction, but I want that again. Trapped beneath him. Owned and used like that.

“You. You’re a bossy asshole even when you’re taking my dick, Sutter.”

“Thank you for reminding me.” Huh? He reaches over the bed and returns with his phone.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re so fucking wrecked. Need this for my spank bank.”

“I don’t know whether that’s creepy or hot. No, I do. It’s both. Why do you need a photo album of me on your phone?” Posing for his weird-ass picture with two fingers shoved into my mouth isn’t gonna deter him, but fuck it. If I’m gonna be spank bank material, I’m gonna be fucking great material.

“Because I’ve gotta wean myself from your ass somehow.”

“Are these pictures the equivalent of a nicotine patch?” I sit up, looking for a towel before I remove the messy condom.

“Something like that.”

“I think we’re bubblegum,” I tell him, pulling the condom off, tossing it in the garbage can, wiping myself off.

“Bubblegum?”

“Yeah. Bubblegum is fucking awesome when it first hits your tastebuds. Best flavor adventure of your life. But ten seconds later? That’s when you lose the tang and spit it right in the trash. Then you pull a brand-new piece of bubblegum from your pocket.”

“Can’t believe you compared our fuck fests to bubblegum.”

“Show me the lie.”

He can’t. “Fine, Alderchuck. This is all just bubblegum and one day we’re gonna lose our flavor. I hope to fuck that it’s sooner than later because I’m already tired of your fucking nonsense.”

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