Page 126 of Triple Pucked
One that I deserve.
D’Angelo dragged this armchair to the base of the bed, before stripping me and pushing me down into it, after we arrived back from the game against the Toronto Maple Leafs.
Eden and Shay are still both dressed in their pinstriped game suits with smart waistcoats and official Bay Rebels ties.
Our bedroom at Freedom Mansion is only illuminated by the blanket of stars through the skylight. Somehow, open to the sky like this, it feels like we’re still outside.
It’s probably why Eden loves it so much.
I glance over my shoulder at the painted squirrel, which is peeping out of a hole on the mural of the tree; she appears to be mocking me with how much freedom she has. “Oi, you can stop looking at me like that. I don’t know how I get myself in these positions either.”
“No squirrel abuse.” Eden flicks me on the nose.
“And do I have to go over how precisely you got yourself in this position?” D’Angelo demands sternly.
“Ehm,” I turn to look at him, slumping into the chair as much as I can in the restraints, “no need to bother yourself.”
“It’s no bother.” D’Angelo’s smile is like a wolf baring its teeth before it tears out a sheep’s throat.
I’m definitely the sacrificial sheep.
When I swallow, D’Angelo’s gaze instantly zeros in on the movement, hungrily.
“But we won,” I defend. “We were bloody brilliant.”
Eden only ties my remaining free ankle to the chair.
“I scored the most goals,” I try again, hopefully. “Coach actually praised me. He said that I’d been focused throughout the match. Fleet told me that he was proud of me.”
“I’m proud of you too, cucciolo.” D’Angelo crouches over me, checking that the ropes aren’t too tight with a deep concentration. “I couldn’t have asked more of you or anyone else on the team. Now we only have two more games to win.Then we’ll have clinched a playoff spot, you won’t be traded, and Wilder won’t return to fuck up our lives.”
Robyn’s eyes are half-hooded.
She drops her hand lazily between her legs like she’s showing off that she can. She finds her clit with a gasp, never breaking eye contact with me. She bites her lip, working herself in fast, circular motions.
She’s sweating. Her hair is damp against her neck.
Eden stands. His pupils dilate, as he studies Robyn.
“Then why can’t I…?” I try to arch off the chair but I am held down too expertly.
D’Angelo looks smug as he stands up. “Touch our Robyn? Touch any of us? Do more than sit there by yourself and watch the rest of us spend an earth-shattering night of pleasure together, celebrating our win?”
“Yes, yes, and fucking yes,” I hiss.
D’Angelo steps back, wiping his hands together. “Punishment. Did you think that I’d forget? I don’t break my promises.”
“Fuck, darlin’.” I blow out a breath.
Robyn has never stopped touching herself. Her chest is rising and falling.
I can tell that watching me, helpless and bound, is pushing her toward coming faster. She always did like her role play of being Madam Kidnapper.
Now, she truly has caught me.
But then, I have been at her mercy from the moment that I met her.
“You didn’t trust us enough to work with us,” D’Angelo explains.
