Page 70 of My Pucking Crush

“Hey, look at me. You’re fuckingme.” I worry he’s thinking of someone else.

He smiles. “Of course I’m fucking you. Only you...”

For a second, I think he’s going to say my real name.

I’m so confused about who I want to be with him. He knows me as Luca. “Say my name. Say Luca,” I moan.

Max pushes his chest against mine and makes love to me. “Luca. Luca. Beg me to keep fucking you.”

Adrenaline spikes in my chest. “Keepfucking me, you hockey god of ice.”

“God, I’m gonna come.”

My brutal talk busts his nut. He yanks out of me and pearly cream shoots from his dick as he angles it to land on my stomach.

I’m laying spread eagle, and my hockey god obsession just came all over me. I grab myself and jerk off. In less than a minute, I come again all over my chest.

Our puddles of cum mix together so beautifully.

Max sweeps a finger through it, coating my skin. “You think I’m yours?”

Fear spikes through me, thinking I’ve been played. I shift my hips, but he holds me in place. “Max,” I hiss.

“I’m not just yours. You’remine.” He exhales, biting his lip. “And I’m gonna need to fuck this ass again to prove it you.”

We make love for a few more hours, never making it to the shower. We fall asleep wrapped up in each other’s arms. Not just physically.

But when I wake up, Max is screaming.

THIRTY-FIVE

Max

Uncle Harris’s thick, meaty hand held me down on the bed while the other yanked my jeans past my ass.

“Your daddy said you like dick.” He shoved himself inside me.

The white-hot pain ripped a cry from my throat.

I scream, not sure if I’m dreaming.

Fingers stroke my forehead as a soft voice whispers, “It’s okay, baby.”

“Stop crying, you crybaby. You’re getting my cock all week.”

I bolt up and slap the hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

Go away. Go away. Let me live my life. Alone, miserable, hating myself.

“Whoa. Max, what’s going on? Who...” The voice next to me stops.

I’m in bed with Luca in my dark but fancy hotel suite, not at a dark campsite with my uncle. I grunt and push the covers away to sit on the edge of the bed. Dropping my head in my hands, I mutter, “Nightmare.”

Uncle Harris’s voice in my head as he... As he...

I’ve not had that dream in years. Why? Why now?

“Wanna talk about it?” Luca rolls closer and strokes my shoulder.

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