Page 52 of Sin Bin (BU Hockey Season 2, #1)

Ollie

I was ten minutes late to practice, but any penalty my coaches assign me will be worth it. Watching Fallon reclaim her independence and show her grandparents how strong she is and that she’s her own person? Damn, that was hot.

When practice ended, the guys all headed to Wolfies. Apparently, no one made dinner, and they all just snacked on the food I brought home, so everyone was starving.

I decided to skip out on wings and go home to my wife.

That was a good choice.

I’ve been home for an hour, and we’ve been rolling around on the bed for a while, acting like teenagers whose parents aren’t home from work yet.

But now all our clothes are off and I want to give Fallon every ounce of my attention.

My fingers travel lazily over her hips and thighs.

They graze her lower belly. I’m trying to take my time, but I’m worked up as hell.

Every moan and whimper that falls from her lips ignites a fire in me, but I don’t want to rush this.

And I don’t want to make it about me. This is about her. About us.

“I want you,” she says, lifting her head.

“I’m all yours,” I assure her.

“And I want to try something,” she tells me, her voice hopeful.

“Anything,” I say. “If it’s going to make you feel good, then we’re going to do it. And if you want to stop, just say the word, ‘Red’.”

Fallon hops off the bed and I’m tempted to chase her, but I stay put, lying against a mound of pillows as I watch her walk over to our closet. My curiosity is piqued, and when she slips two neckties off a hanger and brings them over to me, I can’t hold back my grin.

“What are these for?” I ask, facing her so she can read my lips.

“I don’t want to be so tied up that I couldn’t escape, but I like the idea of staying in place while you drive me out of my mind.”

“You are perfect,” I tell her as we switch places so that she’s lying back on the bed.

I clasp her hands together and loop one of the ties through her wrist before using the other tie to anchor it loosely to our headboard.

“You can slip out of these easily if you want to,” I tell her as I demonstrate, “but they’ll hold you well enough to keep you under me as long as you want to be. ”

Fallon sucks in a breath, and I fucking love how she trusts me to help her explore all the things that turn her on.

Leaning back a bit, I take in the vision of my beautiful wife tied to our bed. I’m in awe of how much trust she’s placed in me, and that’s when a memory hits me. “You said you wanted freedom,” I tell her as the moment before our wedding comes together in my mind .

Fallon nods. “I remember that, too. And it’s what you’ve given me—the freedom to be myself.”

I cover her mouth with mine. “That’s all I ever want,” I tell her, working my way down her body, kissing her collarbone, her breasts, and her belly as I make my way to the valley between her thighs.

I take a second to glance up and that’s when I see the rosy color bloom in her cheeks. “You good?” I ask.

“So good,” she answers.

Needing more contact, I suck two fingers into my mouth before dipping them between her folds.

I trace the sweet seam of her, my fingers working her open as my eyes stay trained on her.

I pump and thrust, loving the way her tits bounce with every movement.

She’s tight and hot and wet and everything I’ve ever wanted but never thought was possible.

When her thighs begin to tremble, I know she’s close and I don’t let up. The steady rhythm sends her over the edge, and I kiss the column of her throat as she writhes on the bed, calling out my name.

I’ve never gotten a hockey nickname, and that used to bother me. I am the king of nicknames, after all. But when I hear Fallon’s voice break as she finds her release and cries out my name, there's no sweeter sound.

When her orgasm ebbs, I withdraw my fingers. They're coated and though I want to lick my damn hand clean, I paint each perfect, rosy nipple with the evidence of her desire. Her body coils tightly in response, her mouth hanging open on a gasp.

“Please,” is the only word she utters, but I know exactly what it means as I wrap my lips around the tight pink bud and suck hard.

My fingers, still wet from being inside her, massage her other breast and holy fucking god, the sounds she’s making for me are otherworldly.

I lap at her other nipple greedily. My cock is hard and thick and dripping with pre-cum, and I just got the best damn idea I’ve ever had.

I move up to untie her hands from the headboard, massaging her wrists and pressing kisses to her pulse points before I bend down to fuse our lips together, loving the way she looks when she tastes herself on my skin. “I want to fuck these gorgeous tits of yours. I want to come all over them.”

“Yes!” she cries, and that’s all it takes for me to straddle her, cup her beautiful breasts, and plunge my dick in between them.

Between the sweat on her skin and the fact that I’m so hard I’m leaking, my dick glides between her perfect globes and it’s fucking ecstasy.

We can see each other’s faces perfectly from this position and nothing is better than watching Fallon as she takes her pleasure.

With her hands free, she toys with the short strands of my hair before skimming her fingers over my shoulder and back until they bracket my sides.

Her nails dig into my skin, but the pain barely registers. Or it just adds to the heady sensation.

When Fallon licks her lips like she wants a taste of my cock, it’s all over. I thrust into her breasts once more before crying out and letting go. My orgasm goes on forever until we’re both so exhausted that we’re lying in a tangled heap on our mattress.

It takes another few minutes until we muster the energy to step into the shower and clean each other up. Before long, we’re tangled up in each other, the room dimly lit as we drift off to sleep.

I may be known around campus as the guy who’s always up for anything. The guy who lives life to the fullest. The guy who’s unpredictable.

And I’m still all of those things.

But I’m also the guy who loves his wife more than anything.