Page 134 of Two Guys One Puck
“Yes. Fuck. Don’t stop.”
“I love your ass.” His hips brutally slam into it, making my cheeks shake.
“And I love yours. I want my tongue in it later.” My words come through jagged gasps.
“You can do whatever you want if you stay the night.”
“That’s dangerous. But I want you to ride my face bad enough to risk it.”
He groans, cock twitching deep inside of me, and he shifts to punish my prostate. “You’re going to make me come.”
“Fill me. I want it.” I barely manage on the verge of losing it myself. “Just like that—don’t stop. Fuck.
He fucks me until I lose it and then fucks me harder until he lets go.
We both collapse on the sofa, curling up in one another.
“I love being inside you,” he murmurs against my temple.
“I love make you come undone. You lose every last ounce of composure until you can’t hold back any longer. You’re so calm on the ice, and I love to get you worked up until you’re mad. You don’t fight anyone but me.”
“You really bring it out in me.”
“Good. I won’t stop.”
“Are you two done defiling the living room?” Wolfe calls.
“No,” I shout back to give them a hard time.
“We have a curfew!” Archangel yells.
“Give us five minutes, and you can come in.” Seaborn shifts, and I grab him, not wanting him to move yet. “They’re not going to forgive me for ruining the couch.”
“Serves them right.”
The Gods play first,and I should be sitting with my team, but for the first period, I tell Happy I’m going to smoke and to cover me so I can go sit in the stands. The Gods are playing well. Which is good. It would make my life easier if they lose, but Iknow how much Seaborn is looking forward to us playing each other. I just hope it doesn’t cause another fight.
The game heats up, and it’s tied 1-1 going into the second period. I should be with the team, but I’m glued to my seat. Seaborn is on fire. He’s shutting their center down left and right. Now, if only his offense could back him up.
The guy is pissed, and I can’t help but laugh. It’s fun to watch him dominate someone else on the ice. The player gets more and more frustrated, and then he starts to play dirty.
Our team is known for playing dirty, but this pisses me off.
I pick up my phone, making myself go to the locker room as I text him. He won’t see it until he’s done playing, but it’s better than what I want to do, which is wait outside until his team leaves and sucker punch him.
Ktytor: I know you won’t see these until after the game, but I’m going to kill that guy.
Ktytor: He trips you and then comes at you swinging like you’re the problem.
Ktytor: He’s a dead motherfucker.
Ktytor: No one gets to hit you but me.
Ktytor: I’ve googled him. I’m going to find out where he lives.
Seaborn: You’re letting the psycho show.
Ktytor: You like it.
