Page 34 of Off-Ice Misconduct (Daddies of the League #8)

Luke

“ W hat the fuck, Coach?” McKinnon says. “Why don’t I have a room?”

I smile to myself, because I could tell him.

The roster said Ace was sharing with Bender, the same guy he was holding hands with and kissing on the fucking bus.

Like fuck was he staying in a room with him.

Tate’s more than willing to get back into my good graces after going ahead with his hockey player seduction plan—there was a long conversation—so I had him change the sleeping arrangements.

“There was a booking error, McKinnon. Bender’s with Shep, and you’re with Professor VanCourt.” Tate doesn’t roll his eyes, but I know he wants to.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he says.

“Watch your mouth, McKinnon, and quit bitching,” Tate says. “Or you’ll be sleeping in the hallway.”

“Whatever.”

He can pout all he wants. He shook the werewolf, and now he can get bitten.

I follow him to our room, getting the door slammed in my face before I can enter. Okay, so his anger’s real or at least partially real. Even better. I’m forced to use the keycard to enter, letting it shut and lock behind me with a loud click.

Throwing my bag on the floor, I go into full hunter mode. Hopefully, McKinnon can see the red in my eyes. He’s standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed, full of fire.

Not that I don’t want his fire—I fucking do—but he needs to show a little deference or this isn’t gonna work.

I know how brats like him operate, though.

They need to push and make sure we’re still gonna be there for every version of them.

I bet he doesn’t even know why he’s acting the way he is.

That’s fine, I know what to do with brats.

“I told you to stop canoodling with your friend.”

He glares. “And I told you , he’s my bestie.”

I smirk, curling a finger. I make my voice low and dangerous. “Get your ass over here, McKinnon.”

He bites his damn lip, and it undoes me. It takes every ounce of restraint I have not to pounce on him when he looks around as if I could be inviting anyone else to come hither.

Ace approaches, but it’s clear he’s not used to being the prey. Oh, this is going to be so much fun.

Catching him by the waistband of his sweats, I yank him to me. He takes a hitched inhale that rides down my torso.

“I’m going to have to punish you for your disobedience, princess,” I say in a husky voice.

His lower lip pouts, but he leans closer, catching on. “H-How you gonna do that, Professor?”

“Nuh-uh.” I run a thumb over the bottom lip I should be biting instead. “When I call you princess, you respond with Daddy. That’s a rule.”

“Fuck,” he breathes.

I press his nose. “Language. Now, lemme hear you say it.” I’ve been aching to hear the word Daddy straight from his lips all day.

“How you gonna punish me, Daddy?”

Mmm. Delicious. Sometimes it rolls off his tongue, and other times, like now, it’s been ripped from him, a forced show of deference. I love both equally.

The things I wanna do to him, how much I want to fucking ruin him. I want to make him cry.

“You don’t get to come tonight.”

“What? That’s fucking?—”

“Two nights.”

“But that’s not fair. I didn’t?—”

“That’s not how this is done.”

“Can’t you spank me instead?”

“I could.” He perks up. “But that’s not what I’m doing.”

He groans, head falling on my chest.

“We play by my rules, McKinnon. You want me to make you come? You be Daddy’s perfect princess. Otherwise, you’ll live in orgasm denial hell.”

“Yes, Daddy. God. My dick hurts every time you call me that. What’s wrong with me? Do I wanna be a woman?”

I chuckle. “Do you?” It wouldn’t matter to me. Besides the fact that I’m equally as into women as I am men, I don’t care what McKinnon’s gender is. I’m just into him. But imagining him as a woman is not why I call him princess.

“No … but I like it when you call me that, in your wolf-like voice.”

“Noted,” I say, combing my fingers through his hockey mane. He needs to calm down a bit, or his dick might explode, and this lesson will go to waste. “What do you think you like about it?”

“I’ve had a lot of time to fantasize about it, and every time Fantasy You says it, I get an embarrassed thrill. Like, I’m clearly not a princess, but I am for you because you make me. Oh god, I’m gonna come.”

My hand connects with his round ass. There’s a nice jiggle, but the sound is muffled by his clothes. “No, you’re not.”

“But eventually, yeah?” he whines.

“Gotta earn it, princess.”

“Fuck yeah, Daddy.”

I’ve got to work on his mouth, but he’s making this easy. If I’d known all Ace needed was a little orgasm denial, I would have made it part of the program on day one.

“Good, then we agree. I’m going to torture you, you’re not going to come, and you’ll learn that Daddy means business.”

He’s smiling way too widely for someone about to be tortured, which is exactly why he needs to learn. I tug on his sweats. “Take these off. Lay face down on the bed.”

McKinnon winks, stepping out of his sweatpants and laying them on the bed. He’s next, lying on his stomach, pillowing his arms under his face.

God his ass is perfect. He wiggles it to tempt me. “You don’t know what I’m going to do to you, don’t make it worse.”

He shows no fear. “I once played an entire period with a cracked radial bone. I think I’ll be fine.”

McKinnon can’t see me, but I shake my head anyway. “Your mouth and cocky attitude are gonna get you in trouble.”

“If this is trouble, sign me up, Daddy.”

Fuck, maybe I’m the one in trouble. I fish lube from my bag, and a knife.

“Whoa, what the fuck?” But he doesn’t jump up; he can’t be that worried about the knife. He continues to peer over his shoulder, watching me.

“I’m not going to hurt you with it, don’t worry, princess,” I say in a voice meant to mock him just a little. “I thought you were Mr. Plays Hockey with Cracked Bones, hmm?”

“What kind of psychopath brings a knife like that on a college hockey trip? Hey!”

I guess it’s a bit overkill, but I don’t like to go anywhere without this one. It’s got a fat, serrated blade with a hooked tip. Very handy if shit goes south, and for what I’m doing now.

There’s a loud riiiiip sound as I pull the cotton away from his plump ass just enough, so I can cut a slice up his boxers. It splits them open, exposing his crease. McKinnon’s got a nice trail of hair on either side—maybe we’ll have to wax this.

Or leave it.

I’ll decide later.

I help myself to his hole, poking my finger into the tear I’ve cut through his boxers.

“Mmmm,” he moans. “Yeah. Fuck.” His hips buck into the mattress.

I crack my other hand over his ass cheek. “ Bad. Hold still.”

“But I like your finger. It’s rough,” his husky voice rasps.

“You need to learn self-control,” I mutter, but I snap open the lube and drizzle some over his hole, slipping a finger inside. A pleasure-filled cry heaves from his lungs, and his muscles strain, arms squeezing the pillow underneath him. It takes Herculean effort for him not to hump the mattress.

“Okay,” he breathes. “I’ve fucked around and now I’m finding out. Message received.”

“I’ve barely done anything to you.”

“Have you ever met your finger? God. It’s just … callused in all the right places.” Those are all the words he can get out. After that, it’s just pants and whines.

I slide a second finger in.

“Oh god, oh god. What are the chances you’re merciful, Daddy?”

Daddy. This might not be my first time being called Daddy, but the way he says it is fucking dangerous. Unravels me. Breaks open my darkest parts.

“If I were merciful, you wouldn’t learn anything. You need to know I mean what I say.”

“I have so many regrets.”

I spank his ass again, but this time to direct him. “Spread your legs for me, princess, knees on the bed.”

“Are you gonna fuck me now, Daddy?”

“No. You haven’t earned it yet.”

“Oh, c’mon.”

He sighs like a brat, but follows my instructions to the letter, opening wide for me.

The boxers keep him mostly covered, which is good.

I don’t think I’d be able to resist him otherwise.

McKinnon’s more responsive than I expected, and my dick’s straining against the zipper of my black jeans.

The way he looks, legs spread in a frog-like position, his body tense as he resists his urges, the fucking sounds he makes.

Yeah, I’m going to fuck him. I’m going to ruin his amazing ass.

But not tonight.

“Who does this hole belong to, princess?”

“You, Daddy.”

“That’s right. You don’t get to let anyone touch it, not even you, understood?”

“Yes, fuck. Please, please, let me do something. My dick’s leaking.”

I smack his ass hard enough there’ll be a nice handprint there later, despite the cotton “protecting” his bare flesh. He shuts up, and I work his ass over for a good long while until staving off his orgasm is near to impossible. I pull my fingers out when I see tears.

Ace’s chest rises and falls for a few heartbeats as he catches his breath.

“You okay, princess?”

“If I say no, will you give me your cock, Daddy? I can tell you for certain it’s the only cure for my plight.”

I bite my lip to keep myself from laughing. He’s a comedic fucker, and it’s unfortunately got a charming quality. “Nice try.”

He huffs. “Yeah, I’m good, Daddy. Just a boner from hell. It’s my natural state of being around you anyway,” he admits. “Getting used to it.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Up. On your knees.” I rub my jeans-covered cock over his face. “Would you like to suck my cock?”

“So, so , fucking bad. Please?” he asks.

His hands reach for the button, I bat them away.

Dammit, this was my fucking idea, and maybe part of me thought it would scare him away? Fuck, why do I want to scare him away? But the horny little asshole is gagging for my damn cock, and maybe that’s for the best, because my brain turns off and I just wanna fuck his face.