Page 30 of Off-Ice Misconduct (Daddies of the League #8)

Once his breathing evens out, I watch over him, one hand splayed protectively over his chest, the other gently tracing over yet another bruise I found that we’re gonna have to ice some more in the morning.

Shadows cast from trees move and sway along with the wind, against the moonlight, and my hand at his chest tightens as if they might sweep him away.

The shadows don’t know who they’re dealing with. They can try, but no one’s taking him away from me.

We must’ve moved during the night and drifted together in the dark like our bodies couldn’t help but seek each other out.

His head found its way to the crook of my arm, and my hand rests possessively on his hip, one of his strong hockey thighs slid over top of mine like he’s trying to anchor himself to me.

As sleep lifts, I feel the weight of him, all the hard lines of his body warm against my skin. There’s enough light from the window, illuminating him, allowing me to watch the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Can’t believe I’m awake before the hockey god.

It’s Sunday, so no practice for him, and it’s the team’s rest day—or so the schedule I stole off of Tate’s laptop said—but I’ll still have to send him away soon.

He probably has a list of shit to do, and we’ve already tempted fate enough, we should at least try not to get caught together.

Something else is awake, tenting in my cotton boxers, which make for a poor defense between my dick and his skin. How I’d love to pull his boxers down, just slip inside him, use him as my cock warmer …

What are you doing, Luke? Slow down.

My need to take him overrides reason. And it won’t be gentle. Or sweet. It’ll be the way the something darker lurking inside me wants to take him.

Claim him.

If I let it.

He said anything, but he didn’t know what “anything” entailed. He’s entitled to a warning, but if he sticks around after that, he’s fair game.

Ace stirs with a soft sound, eyes blinking open. Drowsy, trusting. Smiling.

“I thought I was dreaming, but here I am.” He snuggles further into me like I’m nothing but an oversized teddy bear, unaware that he’s woken up next to a monster.

He says he can handle it—handle me. Guess we’ll see.

Letting my hand roam, I find his nipples, the ones that were so sensitive last night, tracing my fingers over the pebbly bumps in the skin. He shivers.

“Please.”

“Please, what, princess?” My voice is rough with sleep, but that doesn’t take away from the command.

“Touch my cock, Daddy.”

“Such a greedy, princess—Daddy touched your cock last night.” But I can’t help spoiling him this morning. He deserves it. I shove my hand south, gripping the outline of his cock through his boxers. “But you’ve been a good boy, haven’t you?”

I’m the one rewarded with a little moan. I love the sounds I pull from him. Such a big, powerful man, under my control. The heat of him sings through my blood like dark temptation, my cock aching to be in him, rutting, owning his insides, too.

Ace is awake now, gently thrusting into my hand, but it all serves to remind me of how painfully hard I am. I held back last night, looked after him—as I should have—but there’s only so long I can deny myself before I lose control.

“You still wanna play with Daddy’s cock, princess?”

“Yes. Please, yes.”

I need to know … something. Not about him, about me. I tap his nose. “Down.”

Only Ace could get a look that devilish first thing in the morning.

His eyes do a brief pass over my mostly naked body.

Now that he’s alert, and there’s no darkness to hide anything, he can see them, the scars, the reminder of my other life, telling a story for me whether I want to share it or not.

But at least Ace leaves the questions hanging in the air for when I’m ready to tell him.

He drags his lips against my bare torso, letting his teeth catch on the waistband of my boxers, way too expertly lifting them so the elastic doesn’t catch on the head of my dick.

I’m conflicted. A move like that turns me the fuck on. But you only get good at something like that with practice.

“You’re such a growly fucker,” he says with his eyes on the dick he’s just unveiled for himself.

Did I growl? If I did, it wasn’t on purpose. He pulls the leash off every animal instinct I’ve spent the second part of my life trying to cage.

Threading my fingers through his hair slowly, I cinch them suddenly. “Say, ‘please’, princess. You don’t get my cock just for being pretty. You get it for behaving yourself and being mine.”

Mine. Only mine. I’ll erase every fucker that came before me.

Ace inhales a long breath of whatever I smell like. “Please let me have your cock, Daddy. Because I’m yours and because I’m so goddamn beautiful you wanna break me,” he says.

“Little fucking brat.” But I’d be a liar if I denied it—he’s the most incredible creature I’ve laid eyes upon. “One day I’m gonna fuck the attitude right out of you.”

He rolls his eyes. “Promises, promises,” he taunts. He shouldn’t. He doesn’t understand how important it is for me to have some control. With him, it’ll be a thread, but even that thread is better than nothing.

“Get that lippy mouth around my cock.”

Using the flat of his tongue, he licks up the shaft and sheathes my dick in his hot mouth. When he tries to move, I hold him there.

“No. Stay. Pretty things are ornaments, but you’re more like a toy, aren’t you? My pretty, pretty sex toy, warming Daddy’s cock.”

“Mmmm,” he hums in agreement around my cock.

“If you can’t breathe, don’t wait for a signal from me, just pull off.

Otherwise, you stay.” I’ll be watching him closely, too.

I want to learn about him, everything, all his little tells.

But equally as important as learning about him is conditioning for me.

Having his mouth on me, the intense urge to just fucking drill him, but refraining.

That’s what I want to see—if I can restrain myself, if my instincts work with him when I’m beyond myself. Restraint and Intuition. Things I’ve learned to live by.

But his mouth is so fucking good that the willpower to keep my composure’s hard to come by.

His lips are flushed, spit-slick, stretched wide, breathing against my cock.

The pressure’s too perfect, the slow melt of his tongue against the underside of my shaft, making it hard for me to stay still.

I wanna hold him in place, make him choke on me.

I brush a thumb against his cheek. “That’s it, so, so good for me.”

His eyes smile. He flutters them on purpose. He’s used to being good at everything. I bite down on the inside of my cheek, about to burst from the will of restraint. My taste buds detect copper. Blood.

Relax, Luke.

But it’s as if I’m at war, testing my ability to hold just as much as I’m testing him, dying to move just a fraction as my arousal reaches a rolling boil.

Every nerve in my body screams to grab him by the hair and use that sinful mouth until he cries.

Until his throat’s raw. Until he knows just what the fuck he does to me.

I don’t.

I hold.

Painfully.

This is a first for me—being affected like this. Control a frayed rope between my fist, slipping, slipping, slipping. But another first is thinking that maybe—emphasis on the maybe—Ace is the one that can handle all of me. All of my hunger for him.

His fingers are gentle at first, working into the base where thigh meets torso, coaxing me to relax.

Does he know how tense I am?

He does.

He gets it. Gets me.

Relationships like the one Ace and I are building aren’t one-sided. We catch each other. He’s put his trust in me; I need to put my trust in him.

I pillow my hands behind my head, taking long, slow breaths. My need for him never abates, my urge to take him never wavers, but he’s found a way to merge with me like a pulse beneath my skin. Instead of hanging onto control, I let it bob along the surface. It’s something I can reach for any time.

It’s something I can reach for anytime , my brain repeats. And I drift with that knowing for a while, enjoying my dick in his mouth as much as the command I have over myself.

But then.

His tongue moves.

It’s only the smallest of movements, but I catch what he’s doing and watch.

He’s so fucking adorable when he thinks he’s getting away with something.

That belligerent tongue of his gets braver, brushing up and over the head.

Pretty blue eyes flick up to check on whether I’ve noticed, and I close mine, pretending I haven’t.

Let’s see how far he’ll hang himself.

The brat sucks without permission, smirking, but there’s heat in his eyes, a dare tangled with need. Is he egging me on, hoping I’ll snap?

And to think I’d finally convinced myself to let loose and fuck his throat so hard he’d feel me for days.

“Off.” But I don’t wait for him to comply, using his hockey mullet like puppet strings, pulling him away from my cock.

“Oh, c’mon,” he complains. “I just wanted to suck you off.”

“And Daddy wanted you to warm his cock for a bit until he decided to use your mouth like a fleshlight.”

He groans as I release him, pouting.

Then I grip my saliva-slick cock and stroke it. “But now you can watch me play with what you can’t have. Will this teach you to behave?”

Ace crosses his arms.

“Guess we’ll see,” he says, eyes locked on my fist, moving over the cock he didn’t get to empty with his mouth. “But this isn’t much of a punishment.”

“Lie back.”

He rolls onto his back, and I straddle his torso. The brat reaches for me, and I catch his wrists, slamming them over his head. “These stay here.”

“Okay, Daddy,” he says in a sultry voice, knowing he’s about to be my eye candy.

I’m so close already, all his teasing, being inside his mouth for the first time, those pretty eyes of his, it only takes a few hurried pumps. My white knuckles clench around my cock as cum spills over, painting his chest with long stripes, layering over each other.