Page 54 of Home Ice Advantage

“This is highly...highly irregular,” Ryan managed. Eric’s hand was on his thigh, now, gripping hard enough that Ryan could feel his fingers digging in. If he was really committing to the bit, he would have knocked his hand away, he would have said that there wasn’t physical evidence to offer, that everything was on video.

“I can be very persuasive when I need to be. Come on, Senior Vice President. It’s in the CBA that I’m allowed to present evidence in my own defense at DOPS hearings. Are you going to violate the CBA?” His hand crept higher up Ryan’s thigh. An inch or two to the side, and he’d be cupping Ryan’s balls, at this rate.

“You may present your case,” Ryan said. His voice sounded thick and a little strangled, but it was hard to make it come out normally when Eric was looking at him like that, like he was hungry, like he wanted to devour every little bit of Ryan right then and there. “But be quick about it. We have other hearings lined up this afternoon.”

“I really need to take my time to convince you,” Eric said. He took Ryan’s hand in his own and turned it over so that it was facing palm-up. Weirdly enough, Ryan’s hand felt sweaty, and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Eric didn’t look away from him when he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against it. Lips first, then his teeth.

“I don’t like this,” Ryan said, sharply. “I don’t think he would have liked this, either.”

“I’m just getting started,” Eric murmured against Ryan’s skin. And unfortunately it turned out that he was right. It also turned out that Ryan’s palm was fucking ticklish, and his whole body jerked in response when Eric kept moving, his tongue teasing against the skin, his teeth nipping to follow it. The palm first, and then his fingers; tongue teasing around Ryan’s thumb.

“I—this isn’t biting,” Ryan said, his voice cracking. “This is another offense entirely.”

“Okay. We’ll move on to the main part of the case.”

“Mr. Aronson,” Ryan started, desperately trying to get things back under control, and failing just as miserably when Eric shifted forward to straddle his thighs and trap him in place, when he leaned forward, his mouth against Ryan’s neck. His breath was hot and humid in the small space between, and Ryan’s entire body jerked in shocked reflex when he pressed his teeth against the tender skin below Ryan’s ear. “Shit. Oh—oh,” he gasped. Whatever Eric’s mouth was doing felt like Ryan had touched a live wire, like a current ran through his whole goddamn spine.

“Exhibit A,” Eric said. His tongue was hot and wet against Ryan’s overheated skin, and Ryan shifted uncomfortably underneath him, already kind of hard. He was teasing Ryan, now, his mouth never staying long enough in one spot for it to feel truly satisfying. “I think I’m beginning to convince you.”

“This isn’t—this isn’t biting.”

“You really want to know, huh?” Eric asked. Ryan couldn’t see his eyes from this angle, but his voice was soft and dangerous, and neither of them was laughing anymore. “Do you think, Senior Vice President, that maybe this whole hearing was a pretense—I think you fuckingwantedit—”

Eric’s teeth dug in suddenly, sharp, the pressure not that bad at first but steadily building the longer he worried Ryan’s skin between his teeth. It was exquisitely painful, and Ryan squirmed underneath the pressure, unable to hold himself still. He could hear his breath in his own ears, the ragged, harsh noise of it. His hands moved again without his own conscious volition, scrabbling at Eric’s back for purchase.

“Yes?” Eric asked when he let go. His thumb rubbed against the bite, wet with his own spit, and Ryan could already feel how tender it was, how it would probably bruise tomorrow.

Ryan couldn’t say anything at first. His brain was running a million miles a minute but couldn’t focus on anything except the way it had felt when Eric hurt him like that. “What was Exhibit B?” he asked, finally. “We have to be thorough in this hearing. I need to know all of the evidence for and against you.”

“I can be thorough,” Eric said, and the laughter was back in his voice. He tugged at the hem of Ryan’s shirt, like he wanted to lift it up, and Ryan went with it. It was chilly in the apartment, once he was shirtless, and he could feel his nipples pebbling, from the cold and from the force of Eric’s eyes on him. “Do you demand a hands-on demonstration from everyone in these hearings?”

“I—” Ryan managed. Eric was kissing his neck again, working his way down. He whimpered when Eric’s teeth dug painfully against the muscle and tendon of his shoulder, pressing down. It hurt so fucking bad, but it was also like something was lighting up under the skin with every second Eric did it, like the part of him that had always pressed his fingers against his bruises was suddenly putting two and two together. “I—need to be fair. And—and thorough. I...”

“Who would’ve thought that the Head of Player Safety’s such a little slut?”

“I’m not a—I’m tough but fair,” Ryan said, his voice cracking again when Eric twisted his nipple, sharp and sudden and surprising. “I have to be, when all of you insist on, on breaking the rules.”

“Well. If you have more hearings this afternoon. Maybe I better get back to work convincing you. Maybe I better leave some marks so that the guys who are here after me know.”

Ryan wondered if it was possible to be so turned on that your entire body burst, just exploded into a cloud of bloody mist and viscera. “I think maybe you should do that,” he managed. He wondered how he looked right now, his neck bitten and bruised from Eric’s teeth and wet with Eric’s spit, his hair messed up from Eric’s hands, his whole body flushed red from how much he fuckingwantedthis. His eyes felt huge and wide and crazed and—

Eric wasn’t talking anymore. His mouth trailed down Ryan’s chest, and his teeth dug into skin again, unexpected and painful. Ryan’s body tried to curl into and curl away from it: Jesus, his chest was going to be a mess tomorrow, too, the way Eric was torturing him.

“Excuse you,” he gasped, “this wasn’t where the bite occurred on the ice.”

“I’m giving you the full experience,” Eric mumbled into his skin. His tongue flicked against Ryan’s nipple, then his teeth. “I told you: this is so the other hearings, so they all know who hadyoubefore them. Who leftyoulooking like a fucking—”

“Like what?” Ryan asked, squirming underneath him, increasingly desperate.

“Like a fucking mess. Like you fucking begged for it,” Eric said. He’d slid off Ryan’s lap so he could reach his chest more easily, and he was on the floor between Ryan’s legs. His eyes were wide and dark when he looked up at Ryan again, his mouth red and swollen, and on instinct, Ryan reached out and took his glasses off, set them gently on the side table.

“I have to beg now?” Ryan demanded. “That’s not—how you treat the Head of the Department of Player Safety.”

“I think that’s how the Head of the Department of Player Safety wants to be treated,” Eric said, palming Ryan’s dick through his sweatpants. “I think maybe the Head of the Department of Player Safety better let me know exactly what he wants, because I’m just a repeat offender, and I want to make sure I’m not going to get an unfair suspension.”

Ryan froze. Eric wasn’t touching him anymore, and he felt the lack of hands or mouth oranythingon his body like a physical ache. But he also didn’t want to beg—there was being easy for it and there was giving in immediately. Eric ran one finger down his inner thigh and Ryan shuddered. Just the light touch, the hint of what hecouldhave, set his heart knocking against his ribs again.

“Bite me again,” he said, after a long pause. “My thighs.”

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