Page 91 of Pucking Obsessed

“Every time you scored,” D’Angelo murmurs, even deeper; I’m shaken because I can hear how much this isn’t simply dirty talk but true, “I was desperate to tear down your pants and dick you right there bent over the goal to show Colton how good you are. Every game, I wish that I could do the same thing in front of the entire audience. Then I could show the whole world that you were mine.”

My mind is blown by both the image, but also what he’s saying beneath it.

I’m not his dirty secret.

He wants everyone to know that I’m his.

“F-f-fuck me,” I mumble, unable to stop myself. “Please…f-f-fuck me.”

D’Angelo chuckles meanly, adding a third finger. He then curls them, pressing down on my prostate.

The movement sends sparks through me.

I whimper. My toes curl in bliss.

I brace my arms more firmly against the wall to stop myself collapsing in a puddle of pleasure.

My cock pulses.

“I’m going to come,” I pant.

D’Angelo smacks me crisply on the arse. “Not until I tell you.”

When he removes his fingers, I hear the rip of a condom packet.

My breathing speeds up. I tingle with anticipation.

Then he grips me firmly by the back of the neck again, before he thrusts into me,hard.

I grit my teeth.

It doesn’t hurt, but there’s a burning stretch.

Hot and cold flushes through me.

D’Angelo holds me in place, not moving for a long moment. His hard chest is pressed against my back.

“Okay?” D’Angelo tightens his hold on my neck but presses a tender kiss to my shoulder blade.

It’s hard to form words, but I manage, “Brilliant, darlin’. Are you going to move any time this season?”

Whoops, what am I saying?Dangerous.

“Brat,” D’Angelo growls.

Don’t dare your dom, when he literally has his cock up your arse.

Then D’Angelo does start to move.

He pistons in and out of me faster than he has done before, showing off just how useful hockey exercises are for hip strength.

I didn’t know that you could fuck as hard as this.

D’Angelo’s been being gentle with me until now.

He appears to have taken my sass as permission to break me.

As I’m battered against the shower wall, shocked into silence, I bloody love it.

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