Page 38 of Off-Ice Misconduct (Daddies of the League #8)

I blink, fluttering my lashes. My girlfriends have complained that long lashes were wasted on me, but I’d say they’re coming in clutch. If the only reason the powers of the universe gave me long lashes was to use them against Luke VanCourt, I’d say that’s divinity well spent.

Luke exhales slowly. “You’re very fucking pretty, princess.”

Shit, that might have worked too well. His finger shoves inside, twisting. It’s not even the physical stimulation getting me hot this time, but the position. I’m completely exposed and at his mercy. Something in my chest ripples.

“I saw you push him, and I’m fucking glad you did. I’d had enough of him touching you on the bus.”

“Does that mean…?”

“That I don’t give a fuck if you were fighting with your teammates? Yes.”

“But Coach, your brother?—”

“Is fully capable of handling you himself on the ice and in the locker room. That’s his territory. Mine’s off the ice, princess. Now tell me how good you’ve been at following my rules, and maybe Daddy will wrap his mouth around this.”

He curls his fingers around my cock, and I’m a decent size, but his hand fucking swallows it.

“I’ve been behaved, Daddy. I’ve done everything you said.”

“Memory is terrible at my age. You’ll have to remind me.”

He’s not that old and the memory thing’s a fucking lie.

He’s the damn elephant of remembering. What he means is he’s a fucking sadist who wants to hear me say it.

His hand squeezes, reminding me I’m under the gun.

He’s totally the type of asshole who’d dangle this carrot and take it away if I’m not prompt enough.

But fuck if I don’t like that, too.

“I didn’t touch my cock at all, Daddy. I’ve shown up to class on time. I’ve been disciplined, and I wore the boxer shorts like you told me to.”

My cheeks heat impossibly hot, for having to admit that out loud, and because I’m reminded of the thought I had. Should I say something?

“Um, Daddy?” Why does he make me fucking shy? This is ridiculous.

“Yes, princess?”

“You said the boxers thing was so I’d feel you, but…”

I cover my face, and his fingers inside me stops. I have all of his attention. Gently, he pries my hands from my face. “It wasn’t enough,” he guesses.

“It wasn’t.”

“What do you need?” He strokes his finger in and out of me some more. “C’mon, tell Daddy.”

“Something physical—on my body physical,” I clarify, but that’s not quite enough either. “I wanna ache with you, Daddy.”

He nods, thinking about it, probably coming up with all kinds of dastardly ideas. “Noted. How are your grades?” The finger’s gone, and it’s just his hand around my cock.

“Mostly on track.” All he’s doing is holding my cock hostage, but being questioned like this, knowing I have to behave to get to come is going to incinerate me.

“Mostly?” He cocks a brow, I’m dangerously close to losing this.

My lip pouts. “I’m still … hockey. Some of my other classes are harder to keep up with because of hockey, but I’m working on it, Daddy. Please. ” He can’t expect miracles to happen in a few short weeks, can he?

He nods. “I’m going to go against my better judgment and trust that you are, McKinnon. Sounds like you’ve been a good boy for Daddy, guess I’m forced to reward you,” he says as if it’s some hardship.

Asshole. Yeah, he fucking is. I smile. “Yes—ah!”

He’s down, mouth around my cock, and I already know I’m gonna explode in an embarrassingly short amount of time. Short breaths punch from my lungs, and my fingers hold onto the edge of the desk for dear life.

I’ve had my dick sucked a lot. A lot, a lot.

By men and women. But never with a buildup this long and never under these circumstances.

But also, never by Luke. He uses his tongue, swirling it around the head, his teeth graze in all the right places, and good lord, where does he get all that saliva from? Is it a werewolf-man thing?

I don’t know, but I can say based on a great deal of experience that he’s the best at cock sucking I’ve ever had. I’m gonna need to up my game.

“Gonna … gonna come, Daddy. Don’t want to … yet.” That news shocks me as much as it does him. He pops his mouth off, licking up the shaft.

“Yeah, does my princess wanna draw this out?” I nod. “We don’t have time, but it’s your reward. You can save it for later.”

I groan. Telling him to stop now is the equivalent of stopping a roller coaster after it’s gone over the drop. “But can’t you just give me two rewards?”

He strokes my cock slowly, gripping my balls. “’Fraid not. Isn’t how this works.”

Fucking dammit. “Now, I want it now.” I might regret that later, but I won’t survive the bus ride home.

“Good choice.”

His mouth covers my cock again. I don’t last, I’m too pent-up, and even if I wasn’t, Luke knows the secret magic that undoes me.

My lungs want to scream, but I somehow have the wherewithal to keep it to mild moaning.

Hot cum spurts straight down his throat, and I fight the urge to shut my eyes. I want to see him suck me dry.

Cum seems to pump out of me forever, but he’s unfazed, sucking it down like it’s a damn milkshake.

Impressive.

I’m so perplexed by him, and having-my-cock-sucked drunk, that all I can do is stare at the big man. He stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He uses the thumb of that same hand to smooth over my cheek.

“Manners, princess,” he says without missing a beat.

“Uh, um, thank you, Daddy,” I say, kinda starstruck if I’m telling the truth.

Breathe, Ace, breathe. Why can’t I breathe?

Luke notices, pulling me toward him. My torso collides with his, and my arms automatically wrap around him. Now that I’m touching him, it only takes a few slow breaths to calm my racing heart.

“You should return before you’re missed,” he murmurs.

He’s right, but some deep instinct claws its way to the surface, sinking invisible talons into Luke.

I don’t get it. This was supposed to just be some super-hot sex stuff, but something else is happening. Something I don’t know if I’m ready for, but now that I’ve discovered it, I don’t know if I can live without it.

“I’ve got one more thing to do, though.” He runs his thumb over my lips. “Palms on the desk, stick that ass out.”

Shit. Is he gonna…? Yep. I’m getting a spanking, but it’s not for punishment, it’s not even for sex.

As soon as I’m in position, Luke flips up my towel and his mammoth hand caresses my backside like it’s precious. “You belong to Daddy, princess. I’m gonna make sure you feel it all the way home.”

“But we’re not going home until?—”

He raises a brow. He knows we have the game in Tacoma tonight before we head back. He knows what he fucking said.

Crack!

His hand smacks down over and over again.

Those firm spanks hit someplace deep, and as much as my ass is truly being lit on fire, every spank brightens my insides, stretching a smile onto my face.

He spanks longer than I expected, but somehow, it’s not long enough.

I go through moments where I almost hope he’ll stop, and ones where I hope he’ll never stop. I could let him spank me all day.

It’s almost as if spanking’s a language of its own.

When he’s finished, my ass buzzes and I feel so much fucking better. He pulls me to his torso from behind, trapping me in his big arms. “Does that smile mean it was enough to remember me by?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

A hand trails up my abs, pinching my nipples. Fucking hell, I’m horny again, and feeling so … his.

“I’m having a hard time keeping my hands off you.”

“I’m okay with that.”

His lips attach to my pulse point from behind, but he only licks rather than sucks. Yeah, guess I can’t leave this office with a hickey, but man, would I love another one from him.

Using all the years of hockey training, I center myself enough to return to the locker room. I should feel fine. We talked. We more than talked. But Luke’s parting words are rattling around in my head.

“I’m sorry, princess. This one’s on me. I was under the impression you didn’t care, and I’ve been reading everything through that lens.

I knew I wouldn’t handle it well, watching you get hurt like that up close; it’s bad enough when I’m watching from far away.

This is my first and last weekend coaching your team. ”

You gave the impression you didn’t care …

I’ve been feeling this thing for weeks, but tonight it showed up with a name. It’s like my heart knew before I did. And now my brain’s just catching up and panicking.

Jesus fucking Christ. This is the roller coaster from hell.

Because it’s not knowing that I care that’s messing with me, it’s realizing how much.

He also said, “I’ll have my eyes on you when we’re on the bus,” slapped my ass a final time and told me to go. I left, but there was something else in his words, more than him being a possessive fuck. Was he worried about me?

The locker room’s empty except for Shep who’s cleaning the showers … with a toothbrush…? I raise a brow.

“Coach made me for fighting with you,” he mutters without looking up.

“About that, I’m sorry, man. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Yeah, me too. Hud’s been distant, and when I felt far away from you, too, I just … snapped.”

“We’re a mess.”

“Forgive me?”

“Of course, I do. You?”

“Absolutely.”

I pull on my sweatpants over the worn, ripped boxer shorts Luke told me to keep wearing. They cling to my skin, spreading gooseflesh over my throbbing ass, the cool air breezing through the rip, a sharp contrast to my hot skin.

Luke.

Luke, Luke, Luke all over my skin.

“You should be pissed at the professor, but you seem happy as fuck.”

Dammit.

I glance around. Locker room’s empty. “He’s the mystery guy.”

“I fucking knew it.”

“You knew ?”

“I saw your texts and put two and two together. You might wanna stop looking at him like he hung the damn moon. Just sayin’.”

“I do not do that.”

“You do, Ace, but that’s a good thing.” He leans back from where he is on the ground, kneeling. “I’m happy for you. You’ve never been this into anyone.

“He’s fifteen years older and my professor,” I whisper as if he’s failed to notice.

Shep shrugs. “Doesn’t bother me.”

Huh. Weird.

I mean, good, but weird.

“It’s … new. So, like, don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“I’d never.”

“Even Bend—I’ll tell him soon.”

“I won’t, but Bender already suspects you two.”

“How do you know?”

He shrugs. “Not like we’re enemies.”

“You bicker with him more than you do your actual boyfriend.”

“Anyway,” he says, cutting me off, “you’re stuck here till Coach is done with me, so keep me company.”

“Want me to help?”

“Not allowed. But maybe you could bend an ear about Huddy, after all?”

I drop onto the bench, wincing at the lingering sting. The scuffed tiles reek of chlorine, but if Shep’s stuck here, then so am I.

“I can do that.”