Page 55 of Home Ice Advantage

The look Eric gave him then, heated and hungry and all-consuming, was almost too much, but Ryan couldn’t look away. At least he couldn’t until Eric did what he’d asked, tugged his sweats down while Ryan shifted his hips eagerly to help him along. It was almost worse than anything on his neck, the sensitive skin on the inner thigh and the hard muscle he couldn’t help clenching against the pain. It was almost better because Eric’s hot breath was so close to his dick, because his hands were gripping Ryan’s legs so tightly he couldn’t have squirmed away even if he wanted to.

“Okay,” he managed, “okay, okay, okay, please, you’ve made your point. He liked it—I like it—I—”

“I didn’t show you Exhibit C,” Eric said. His unruly hair was even messier where Ryan had been clutching it, his eyes equally wild when he pressed his hands against the bruises he’d left behind on Ryan’s legs and Ryan shuddered helplessly under the force of it.

“Wh—what’s Exhibit C?”

It turned out that Exhibit C was Eric spitting in his palm and wrapping his warm fingers around Ryan’s dick. He wasn’t laughing anymore, watching Ryan’s hips jerking up into his hand, listening to Ryan’s desperate, panting breath. “This doesn’t—this isn’t a mitigating factor,” Ryan gasped, one of Eric’s fingers teasing the entrance of his ass. “You still, you’re still going to get a f-five-game suspension.”

“Oh?” Eric asked. His voice sounded just as breathless, although he was preoccupied, alternating between digging his teeth into Ryan’s thigh muscle and pressing wet, sloppy kisses along his abs, and torturing him with his hands. “What do I have to do to lessen my punishment, Senior Vice President? The playoffs are coming up and we’re fighting for a wildcard spot.”

“I’m—” Ryan said, twisting on his fingers, his whole body shuddering, “I’m offended you’d imply—imply I could be bought—”

“Who said anything about buying?” Eric said, licking his lips.

“What are you...what are you gonna do?”

“I thought,” Eric said, stroking one hand along Ryan’s thigh, the other gripped just too loose to be satisfying around his erection. “I thought we should see how you look on my dick. I think probably that’s what you’ve been angling for this whole time, huh?”

“I... I...”

“It’s okay if you want it,” Eric murmured. His voice was gentle, coaxing. “You’ve got a really stressful, busy job, I think maybe you should just let me...”

It was so fucking ridiculous and it felt so good that he almost broke, but Ryan was so determined to keep a straight face, to remain committed to the bit, even as Eric let go of him, shuffled on his knees over to where he’d dropped his suitcase that had his bathroom kit and the lube and condoms, fumbling eagerly through it until he could return to Ryan’s side.

“What do you want?” he asked Ryan.

Ryan looked at the condom in his hand and looked at Eric’s face and shuddered again. “I want you to—to fuck me raw. I want you to leave it so everyone after you knows what I’ve—what you did.”

Eric froze; the stillness itself felt like a slap. For the first time, he broke the scene, and said, “Ryan...you’re sure?”

“There hasn’t been anyone else,” Ryan mumbled. He could feel his face heating up, which was ridiculous. His whole chest felt red, and it wasn’t just because he had the imprints of Eric’s teeth pressed along it. “Not for a little while now. If you’re okay with it. I really wanna feel it. Feelyou.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Eric said, almost reverently. “Okay. Well. If that’s what the Head of the Department of Player Safety wants...”

Ryan hadn’t been sure what to expect at all when he’d offered, but somehow, the reality blew it out of the water anyway. By the time he’d relaxed enough to try, by the time Eric lifted Ryan into his lap, he felt like he was going to shake out of his skin anyway, so keyed up by the game they’d been playing, by the way Eric had been touching him, byeverything, that he thought it would have been insanely intense no matter what they were doing. But it was different without a condom, too. It did feel more, more of everything, electric and hot and vulnerable. With every stroke and drag and thrust he felt every single inch of Eric inside of him, and it drove all of the conscious thought out of his head. All he could do was move, all he could do was chase the orgasm that was almost,almost—

He looked down at Eric, sitting with his back against the headboard, eyes closed, fingers grabbing Ryan’s ass and moving him exactly the way he wanted it, and for a second the breath caught in his throat. It was objectively insane, that they were doing this; it was objectively insane that it worked.

Eric opened his eyes and saw Ryan watching him and said, “Is—is the Head of the Department of Player Safety—satisfied?”

“You feel—” Ryan said, and swallowed hard. “I’m so close. You have to come inside of me. Mr. Aronson—you have to—Eric—”

Eric swore, something in French Ryan didn’t understand. He shifted his hips, angling up, and all Ryan could do was hang on. It wasn’t even that it was faster, but the steady, punishing force of it was too much. Ryan could feel his whole body tensing up, and then the release, obliterating. By the time his dick was desperately trying to empty itself all over Eric’s bare stomach, Eric was still moving, and it was almost too much to bear. Ryan was determined—determined—to do this, so even though he was shuddering and overstimulated, he ground down on Eric until he could feel him tense and come, his head dropping down to rest on Ryan’s abused shoulder.

He could feel it inside of him, too, messy and wet and somehow, exactly what he had wanted, as objectively disgusting as it should have been.

“Two games,” he gasped. “I’m reducing your suspension to two games.”

“You’re...you’re unbelievable,” Eric managed, mouth pressed up against Ryan’s sweaty skin. “God, Ryan.”

It took them a while to recover, but eventually it dawned on Ryan that their food had been sitting, forgotten, on the kitchen table. Eventually, they had to move, Ryan wincing when Eric slowly pulled out.

“That’s what you wanted, though,” Eric said, lips twitching with suppressed laughter again.

“Yeah, I know,” Ryan said, “but you weren’t complaining either, Mr. I’m Leaving Marks for All Those Other Guys.”

“You better go get yourself cleaned up,” Eric said, smirking, and Ryan could tell he wasenjoying it, from the way he stretched and looked over the damage he’d done to Ryan’s body. It felt like a secret Ryan would have to keep, but one that he’d treasure, turning it over and over again in his mind. The way that Eric looked at him just in that moment. Fond and hungry and satisfied. “Before you get that all over the floor.”

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