Page 28

Twenty-seven

Ryder

P repping for a game I know Knox will be at gives a new meaning to “on my game.” I want to play well when he’s watching, and the energy I have from the freedom of embracing this side of myself and being with Knox is like rocket fuel. I’m on fire at morning skate, blocking shots and finishing drills like I’m in contention for the All-Star team.

“Looking good, Kingsy,” Cal says as he feeds pucks to the guys to shoot at me. “Stay sharp like this and we’ll have a shutout for Utah tonight.” Hearing the praise from the quiet goalie coach pumps me up even more.

I’m first off the ice and headed for the locker room after practice, anxious to get home and meet Knox after his practice. We had to leave too early this morning to mess around, but I’ll have some time before my pre-game nap, and I know exactly how I want to spend it.

“Hey, Kingsy, how’d things go yesterday? You’re in a much better mood, and you didn’t end up in my guestroom, so I’m going to assume it went well?” Westy asks, filing in behind me as I walk through the tunnel. “What grand gesture did you go with? Flowers? A bunch of signs at his door? A boombox over your head playing Peter Gabriel?”

“Bro, are all the movies you watch from the eighties?” I ask, not about to tell him where I got the name for my goldfish.

“The best ones are,” he says, shrugging. “Seriously, though, everything good?”

I nod and purse my lips in consideration. “Yeah, man, they really are. He’s the best. I don't think anyone else would have forgiven me. I’ll grab the rest of my things this weekend.”

“No rush. I’m happy for you. I hope this means you’ll be less of a dick if you’re getting some regularly and have a nice guy keeping you in check.” He taps his stick against my pads and heads to his stall, laughing.

“I’m not a dick, I’m discerning,” I insist, putting my gear in my stall. “And I know you guys need to be kept on your toes. Knox won’t change that.”

“Ah, but Knox is gonna change up your insides. Careful, he looks like a big boy,” Chad says, passing me and ruffling my hair.

“One, don’t talk about my insides. Two, don't talk about my boyfriend,” I say, stepping on his stick with my skate so it pulls out of his hand and smacks him in the shin.

Damn, I just called Knox my boyfriend, out loud, to a room full of my teammates, and I didn’t even blink. So, that’s what progress feels like?

“You know, you jumped down my throat once when I said you had a boyfriend because you were talking about Knox, and here you are getting all possessive, not wanting us to know he’s packing an anaconda in his football pants, and saying we can't talk about your boyfriend,” Rook says, unlacing his skates across from me. “If there isn’t some injustice in that, I’ll let my dog lick peanut butter off my d—”

“No one wants you to finish that sentence!” Campbell yells, throwing his elbow pad at Rook to stop the stream of words coming from his mouth.

“My kid loves dogs, and I don’t like hearing about bad things happening to them. If I find out you’re abusing yours by making it do horrible things like you’re alluding to, I’ll have it forcibly removed from your ownership,” Monty says, pointing his stick at Rook, his captain's face on.

“It was a joke! You guys are so sensitive. I would never. Indiana Bones lives like a queen,” Rook says, crossing his arms peevishly after tossing Campbell’s pad back to him.

“Indiana Bones?” Magnus asks, his Swedish accent adding a sweet lilt to the words. “Like the movie?”

“That’s Indiana Jones,” Westy explains as he thumbs at Rook. “This guy thought he’d be funny and play off the name for his dog. It’s actually pretty good.” He shakes his head and snickers, unable to hold back his amusement.

“Not as good as my goldfish, Goldie Spawn,” I say, pulling off my pads, feeling like one-upping them.

“Americans are weird,” Davy says, walking into the showers, butt-ass naked.

“At least we respect our teammates and wear towels in common spaces,” Nico yells, rolling his eyes as he pats my head and passes, wrapped in a towel.

“For the record, I think you’re all disgusting and don't find any of you attractive. Also, none of your dicks compare to my boyfriend’s, so don't try to measure up. I’m not interested, even if I like one guy,” I growl loud enough for everyone to hear and set the record straight once and for all.

The locker room bursts into laughter. Various pieces of equipment come flying at me as the guys give me shit about thinking they’re hot or insisting their dicks are big, it’s just cold on the ice.

When I get home from practice, I open the door to find the shades drawn, darkening the condo so the lit candles on every surface make the space glow warmly. It smells like Knox’s cologne, making my dick twitch. The man himself is sitting on the couch, his arms stretched out along the back, shirtless, in only athletic shorts, with his legs spread, and the sexiest look on his face I could have imagined. The man screams sex, and I’m all for it. My mouth is already watering, and I want what he’s offering.

“Put your stuff down, take off your clothes, and crawl to me,” he says calmly, his voice like velvet in the dark. I shiver at the quiet command. Holy fuck. This is the HandyManCan version of Knox, and I get him in real life after all.

I toe off my shoes, fumble with emptying my pockets, and strip out of my clothes as fast as I can. I leave everything in a pile at the door and drop to my knees on the hardwood, keeping my eyes fixed on Knox, who wears a soft smile for me that's in no way gentle. It’s soft in the way the leather of a belt is when it’s broken in; it’ll still leave a welt when struck against your skin.

In contrast, my cock is hard and bobbing as I fucking crawl across the floor to him, sure there’s a graceful way to do this, but not attempting to make it anything other than what it is—the fastest way to do as he’s asked so I can fuck him. When I’m at Knox’s legs, I look over to where Goldie’s tank usually is and see it’s been covered with a towel.

“Knox, did you cover Goldie so she wouldn’t witness what’s about to take place?” I ask, choking back the laugh that wants to come out despite the heavy tension of sex in the air.

“She doesn't want to see her daddies like this, no matter how much she’d like to be a voyeur,” he explains, with a hint of amusement before he sobers and raises an eyebrow at me. “I believe you promised to tear up my ass last night. I’m more than ready for you to make good on that now.”

Climbing onto the couch, I straddle his lap, and take the control back from him. I slide my hand up his chest to his throat and tip his head back onto the cushion, watching his eyes go hazy. He’s pliant, his arms still stretched out to his sides, gripping the couch like I’ve told him not to move, and I bring my mouth to his.

“Do you need me to fuck your tight little ass with my big fat cock until you’re screaming my name and begging me to let you come?” I whisper against his lips.

A breathy moan escapes his mouth that I capture as I kiss him, my tongue sliding along his lips, demanding entry and finding him obedient. He opens for me, our tongues twisting, tasting, letting me fuck his mouth and take what I want. His arms finally drop from the couch and come around my back, holding me tightly as his hands roam my skin.

I reluctantly pull away from his decadent mouth, slightly breathless, and look down at his dazed face. “I want you in the bedroom, naked, on the bed,” I command, moving off his lap so he can comply. He stands, kissing me as he does, and I follow him into the bedroom where I get to watch him strip out of his shorts and crawl onto the bed like I told him to.

I head to the bathroom for a towel and grab the lube on my way back to the bed, where he’s lying. I put the towel down. “So we don't fuck up your comforter,” I explain, and he nods, chuckling. Sometimes, the unsexy things matter. Speaking of…there’s another subject we have to touch on . “I’m clean. I haven’t fucked anyone bare because I didn’t want any oopsy babies, but this is new. I have condoms,” I say, running a hand through my hair, aware of the obvious risks, and wanting to make sure I’m doing this right for him. He sits up and looks at his hands.

“Ryder, I’ve never been with anyone. And if you’re clean, I want to be as close to you as possible. If this were something casual, I’d have a different opinion, but I don’t think that’s what this is.” A look of insecurity crosses his face. “Right?” he asks. I don't like that look at all.

I sit next to him and place my hand on the back of his neck, pulling his head into mine. “I called you my boyfriend several times today and felt really fucking good about it. Even that is such a bullshit term for what you are to me, because it’s always been you. Yeah, this is new for both of us, and I’m a total wild card you don't know if you can trust, but I still want you to go all in and bet on us. This isn’t casual to me. It took me years to get here and accept this part of myself, and I’m not backing down from it, or giving up the best part, which is you.”

“Then I want you to fuck me bare,” he says, blinking his dark-lashed eyes at me, nearly stopping my heart with the rawness of the request.

“I’ll give you anything you want, big sexy. Now turn over on your hands and knees and let me eat your ass for lunch.”

Knox huffs a sound between surprise and a moan as he pulls back and turns over. I press my palm between his shoulder blades and stretch him out onto the bed more, so his ass is in the air and his face is in his pillows before I move behind him on my knees.

Ho-ly shit. The view. The goddamn view. Knox has a nice ass, gorgeous globes for cheeks on any given day, but like this? He’s a dream. I make a noise of appreciation and tug my aching cock that is incredibly excited about the prospect of finding a home right there in that tight ring of muscle.

Gently, I run my finger down his crack, and he shivers, pressing back against me. I cup his balls and roll them in my palm, getting used to the heft of them, before trailing my fingers back up and circling his tight ring. Using both hands, I spread his cheeks and give him an exploratory lick from his balls up. The sound he makes can only be called rapturous. Yeah, he likes having his ass eaten.

“Oh, fuck, do that again,” he says, his voice half muffled by the pillow until he turns his face and I hear his rapid breathing.

So I settle in, learning his clean taste, because he was kind and showered before I got home. He said he does the prep work, so I assume he’s got everything ready for me if he wants me to fuck his ass. I circle his tight ring with my tongue, and he gasps. I get him nice and sloppy, dripping with my spit, before I move a finger back to his hole and press in slowly. He groans in delight and pushes into the pressure, making my finger sink deeper. I add another and play with him until he’s panting, gasping, and begging me to fuck him already.

“Turn over,” I say when I’ve had enough of the tortuous foreplay and need to fuck him, too .

“Wait, isn’t it easier with me this way?” he asks, indicating on his hands and knees with me behind him, doggy-style.

“Knox, I want to see your face, to know how you’re feeling. It will be just as easy on your back, trust me.”

He repositions himself on the pillows while I get the lube and pour some into my hand, coating my cock as I pump my fist over my aching erection that is desperate to be inside him. I push his knees up and move his legs over my thighs as I sit back on my heels before drizzling lube down his cock, over his balls, and onto his hole. I give him attention everywhere before I work my finger in again, then add a second, and a third as he adjusts to the size and stretch, his hips rocking along with my movements as I use my other hand to stroke him.

When I remove my fingers, his eyes open and he smiles as I position the head of my cock against his hole. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much, or you don't want to do this,” I say.

“Baby, I don’t want you to stop for anything. Fuck me, please,” he begs, and I want to give him everything he wants.

“Since you asked so nicely,” I say, pushing in slowly and breaching that tight ring. It’s quite a stretch, and his eyes widen, but he doesn’t say anything. “I want you to breathe for me now,” I tell him.

He blows out a breath as I rock my hips forward and watch his face, looking for pain or fear. “Your.” Breath. “Cock.” Breath. “Is huge.” Breath.

“Glad you noticed, but I’m sure yours is bigger, and I’ll be struggling to take that monster up the ass soon enough. But for now, I’m trying really hard not to blow my load because you’re so tight and feel amazing. Damn, Knox, relax and stop squeezing the shit out of my cock because I’m only halfway in and I don't want to hurt you.”

He laughs, which adds more pressure and makes me see stars as his ass compresses around me again. “Halfway? Jesus, fuck. Pull out a little and slide in harder. I can take you,” he commands, hands reaching for my hips to do it himself.

I growl low in my throat, stopping him by wrapping my hands around his wrists and holding them at his sides. “You may have gotten used to doing this on your own, but you’re mine now, and I’m going to take care of you, got it? We’re doing this my way, and I’m not about to split you open because we were impatient.” I blow out a breath because it feels really good just to sit here inside him like this, and talking is harder than I’d like to admit, even if he needs the words.

I pull out a bit and rock forward, this time meeting less of his tight resistance as he relaxes around me. With small, gentle thrusts, I ease into him and watch as he goes from anxious to adoring, his espresso eyes meeting mine with wonder and satisfaction as my hips fit flush against his ass, finally.

“Fuck, Knox, you feel like heaven,” I groan, dropping my head down next to his, keeping my hips as still as I can when my dick has a mind of its own and wants to rut into him. I kiss along his collarbone, to his neck, biting and sucking the skin until I make it to his mouth. “You were made for me.” He kisses me back, holding my head and rocking his hips to get me moving. When he pulls me back by the hair, his face is needy and pleading.

“You’ve been gentle and I appreciate it, but I’m a lot rougher with myself. I can handle my man losing himself to me. I need you to really fuck me now, baby. Show me how badly you want me.”

My eyes widen as my chest expands along with my cock. He just took the leash off the beast. My restraint is fucking snapped. I rear up, grip his hips, and pull out nearly to the tip before I pound into him hard enough to rattle the headboard against the wall. He groans, plants his feet on the bed, and rocks his hips as I establish the punishing rhythm he asked for. If my man wants it rough, I’ll give him everything he can take. And oh, he can take it. Fuck, he was made for this, for me, his hands wandering my abs, holding my waist, twisting my nipples as I work him over and he takes every punishing thrust like a good boy.

His cock is hard and calling me, jostling with each fervent thrust. I’ve never tried to jack someone off while fucking them, but I’m sure as hell going to try. I slow down my ferocious thrusts enough to grip him, making him hiss on contact, his eyes rolling in pleasure. I roll my hips and pump my fist at the same rhythm. That’s not too hard, and watching Knox squirm on his pillows, moaning and calling my name, his hands fisting the blankets, is sending me to another level of pleasure. It’s not long before we’re both writhing, our rhythm faltering, the grip we have on each other digging in hard enough to leave bruises .

“Baby, I'm gonna come. Fuck, ohmyGod,” Knox mumbles, his cock swelling in my fist as his words break down into gibberish and swearing. His tense, muscled body shines with a thin layer of sweat, and I’m working hard not to come before he does.

“Give me a little more. I’m right there. Your ass is amazing, fuck,” I curse. My hips snap forward, the orgasm ripped from me when his muscles bear down and he erupts, cum coating my hand while I paint his insides. We both groan, cocks jerking, chests heaving, hands stilling as the scent of sex wafts around us.

I look up and catch Knox’s lust-drunk eyes. “That was amazing,” he rasps, breaths still uneven and voice sex-dazed. “Better than I even imagined.”

My mouth works faster than my brain, which is fully floating in hormones and hopped up on coming when I say, “I’ve never experienced anything like that. I don't think I’ve ever come that hard, ass or not.” Knox’s face falls a little, and I realize it’s probably not wise to speak of any other sexual experience while buried balls deep in my partner. “Seriously, that was the best I’ve ever had,” I say, leaning over and kissing his forehead tenderly to soften the words even more.

Knox chuckles. “I wouldn’t expect anything less than you to run your mouth, even after sex, baby. If you suddenly turned into the perfect gentleman and said all kinds of nice things, I might think you were faking it or someone had replaced you.”

I pull out slowly and watch in fascination as my cum follows. Fuck yes. Bareback sex with Knox is now my favorite thing. I look up at him with what I'm sure is a goofy grin. “I fucking love your ass.”

He laughs and rolls away from me. “Let’s get cleaned up, take a nap, and I’ll make you chicken parm again before the game.”

I fall back on the bed, arms outstretched, chest tight from so much happiness. “I think I’m in love.”

“I’m the sappy romantic, you asshole. Don't steal my thunder by joking about it because I cook for you and let you fuck my ass as part of your game-day rituals.”

“But I already know you love me, Golden Boy,” I say, getting up and following him into the bathroom before he can shut the door on my face and think I’m kidding. I wrap my arms around him from behind as he turns on the shower. “You just thought it was always going to be unrequited because my head was so far up my ass I’d never reciprocate, or some shit. But here I am, willing to be as far up your ass as you’ll let me, crazy about you, making sure my teammates don’t talk about my boyfriend’s dick, which they tried, by the way, they’re fans, learning how to love you back. So, say it or don’t, I know, and I’m trying to be worthy of it.”

“Fuck, Ryder, you can’t say shit like that,” Knox says, wrapping his arm over mine and ducking his head down as I rest my chin on his shoulder. “You mix your typical bro humor in with sweet stuff, and I don't know if I’m supposed to be flattered and cry or laugh. ”

“Just laugh, Knox. You know I’m funny as hell, and you want to. Now, get in the shower and let me clean you up.”