Page 105 of Puck Block

Her chin is so small in my grip, but I hold it steady and pound into her. She rasps out a feverish breath, and her pussy instantly tugs against me.

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

Possession scorches my skin when I pull back to push into her again.

“After the game,” she rushes, meeting me halfway. She’s close to coming, and it’s hard for me to register what she’s saying. I slam into her again while holding the headboard steady with my hand for support.

“What?” My question comes out winded.

“We can tell Emory—but after the game.”

It was the right thing to say but at the wrong time.

My mouth falls to hers so hard I may have busted her lip. I fuck her harder. I continue to move in and out of her with speed until her perfect little pussy grips me and she’s moaning against my mouth.

We started off slow, but things are ending sloppy. She’s like a drug to me. The more she gives, the more I want, and there’s no hiding how much I love her after this.

“After the game,” I confirm.

She nods against me.

“Good, because I love you so fucking much that I’m not sure I can take not claiming you in front of everyone for a second longer.” She stills. “You heard me right. I love you, and I always have, but you don’t have to say it back.” I enter her one more time before groaning the rest. “I already know you love me too.”

I pull out and come so hard I collapse on top of her with my come on her stomach.

Neither one of us moves for a long time, but eventually, I get up and clean us both off. I don’t bother with clothes. Instead, I pull back her covers and climb into her bed. Her bare leg slides over top of mine, and her head rests against my steady heart.

Sleep sweeps in quickly, but I know I’m not dreaming when I feel her warm breath against my chest. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you,” she whispers.

I wait until my throat unclogs with emotion to say, “I know.”

The energy in the arena tonight is out of this world. Coach confirmed there are more scouts lining the stands than at the start of the season, and it’s important now, more than ever, that I continue to play the best defense I ever have.

Pro hockey has always been the holy grail.

When you’re on a team like Bexley U, your only ambition is to make it big, but my goal has never been to prove something to myself or make it big to inflate my ego. It’s always been about making the sacrifices from my aunt and the Olsons worth it. Being an orphan is a mind-fuck, you learn at a very young age not to take things for granted.

Only now, instead of wanting to prove a point to the people that raised me, I’m striving to make it pro so I can support the girl in the stands whose eyes follow my every move on the ice.

If I don’t make it pro and get some stellar entry-level contract with a team, I’ll just have to find a job.

“Keep up the D,” Theo says as he rushes past me to head out of the locker room for the second half of the game. “And don’t get distracted.”

I nod, knowing that he’s referring to our chat in his room the night before.

Theo, Claire, and I damn near had a therapy session, and although I left with not one, but two solid plans in tact to ease the Olsons’ finances and take care of Taytum’s medication for a while, I still can’t fight the worry concerning her sporadic sugar levels.

I’m the last to leave the locker room. I’m not even halfway through the threshold when I decide to rush back to my locker and check her levels for peace of mind. Maybe then, I can focus and play the game of my life.

I open the app as a bead of sweat trails over my nose, and a rush of panic rains over my body. Her sugar isn’t where it should be. I send her a quick text, throw my phone back into my locker, and rush toward the arena.

Coach meets me in the hallway. “What the fuck are you doing? The game is starting.”

I say nothing and move past him quickly to reach my starting spot. Theo shoots me a look, and I nod, telling him that I’m fine.

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