Page 14 of Two Guys One Puck (Gods Versus Monsters Hockey #2)

FOURTEEN

SEABORN

I can’t believe I’m actually about to put a dick in my mouth, let alone Ktytor’s dick. If someone had told me a few months ago this is where our fight would lead, I never would have believed them.

And maybe I’ve lost my mind, but I want to make him come.

Even if I’m still not sure how I feel about a cock in my mouth.

He tastes better than I expected. Salty and a little sweet, and I find myself liking it, licking up every drop of pre-cum he leaks.

The sounds he makes don’t lie. But what twenty-something-year-old doesn’t like a blowjob?

Even a bad blow job is still getting your dick sucked.

I close my lips around his cock, taking him deeper into my mouth.

It’s a foreign sensation, but when his dick throbs against my tongue, my own aches.

I’m so fucking hot right now, and the last thing I expected to turn me on is giving head.

I thought it would be just something someone did to make their partner happy, not get off on it. Boy, was I fucking wrong.

If I didn’t want to come again, I could stay down here all fucking night.

Does that mean I’m gay? Bisexual? My family is pretty accepting. I don’t feel like I’ve fucking repressed this shit. Would I do this to another guy? I cringe, almost losing focus.

Is it just Ktytor I want to fuck?

Maybe I need to see a psychiatrist. Because only wanting to fuck the only guy I viscerally hate has got to be a mental disorder. I do not have enough childhood trauma to explain any of this.

I push it all out of my mind when Ktytor grabs the back of my head.

Half leaning, his abs flex, putting him on display like his body was made for my pleasure.

His skin has pink undertones and is flushed with desire.

I slide a hand up his stomach, needing to touch him.

He sits up more, grabbing my wrist, bringing my fingers to his lips to suck on.

If I wasn’t hard before, that would have done it. I love his boldness.

“Do you know how pretty you look with your lips stretched around my cock?”

I lift a brow.

“Like an angel.”

I come off, giving my jaw a break, swallowing as I stroke my saliva over him. “You mean God?”

“Fuck the gods.” He tugs on my hair, directing me back down.

I let him, liking it more than I’m willing to admit to myself or anyone else. With each bob of my head, I try to take him deeper, fighting my gag reflex, wanting to make him shoot better than he did me. I’m not even going to ask why this has become a competition because, of course, it has.

“Fuck, Ronan,” he purrs in his accent.

I freeze, gaze flicking up to his. Why do I like my name in his mouth so much?

“Do you not like your name, princess?”

I shrug and keep sucking him off. It caught me off guard and I don’t want to talk about it. I didn’t know he even knew my name. I don’t know his, but now I want to.

“You shouldn’t be this good at head.” He exhales a groan, using both hands to guide my pace.

I give over and let him do what he wants, feeling how close he is. He swells in my mouth.

“I’m going to come, so if you don’t want it in your mouth…”

I refuse to pull off. He swallowed mine; I’m not letting him hold that over me for the rest of time. I double down, earning a grin from him.

Warmth floods my tongue. A lot, and I barely swallow it fast enough.

He calls out, every part of his body tightening in a show.

He’s vocal and sexy like I never knew a guy could be.

Finally, he releases his hold, and I lick him a few times on the way off.

He winces, clearly over sensitive, and I love it.

I want to torture him through it, but I don’t.

“Christ.”

I lick my lips and grin. “Enjoy that?”

“Can’t be outdone. I love it.” He collapses back.

“Nope. I’ll never let you.” I flop down on the pillow next to him, staring at his mouth, still half wanting to hit him while the other half of me wants to flip on top of him and feed him my cock so he can’t say anything to piss me off.

“Well if it manifests like that, you can show me up any time you want.”

“I’m going to remind you that you said that.” I reach down to adjust my dick.

“Are you going to do it after all our games?” His brow ticks up.

“I might.”

He rolls on his side, bringing us closer. “Kiss me.”

“So fucking demanding.”

“Act like you don’t like it, sugar.”

I cup his face and barely kiss him. “Does it bother you, tasting your own cum?”

“Not at all. I licked it off your fingers, remember. Does it bother you?” His tone is sarcastic, but I ignore it, deepening the kiss.

I don’t know what I thought would happen, but I’m hard again. Rock fucking hard. And I don’t want to think about what that means either.

I have a lot of fucking questions, and at the top of that list: What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Stop using your brain.”

“What?” I say into his lips.

“Stop over thinking. You kiss like shit when you do.”

I shove his chest, rolling to my back. “Fuck off. You don’t know what’s in my head.”

“I know when your focus isn’t on me. Is not hard to know what you’re doing.” He rolls out of bed, walking to the bathroom.

“Are you seriously just going to leave me like this?” I gesture at my hard on.

He glances over his shoulder. “When your mind is elsewhere? Why not?” His tone is infuriating.

Rage churns in my chest. How can he just flip it on and off? “So you got off, and now you’re back to being an ass?” I get out of bed and shove into the bathroom behind him, turning on the shower.

“You want me to jack you off while you’re in your own head, and it’s probably about kissing a man? I’ll pass, buttercup.” He lifts his gaze to look at me in the mirror.

I scowl back because he’s right, but I refuse to admit it to him. “I’m allowed to have fucking feelings.”

“If you want to feel me, then you better actually feel me. You can spend time in your head questioning things later.” He uses the washcloth to wipe himself off, breaking eye contact.

I pull back the shower curtain. “How the fuck are you so damn chill about all of this?”

“About what?” He turns off the sink and flips around to lean against the counter.

I get into the shower, enraged. I have to explain it.

I almost don’t, but I need a goddamn answer.

“You’re into men just like that? You don’t have to fucking think about it?

” I finally let out, and it’s like releasing the dam.

“I’m glad it’s so easy for you to go with it, but I’ve been straight my whole fucking life, and this is messing me up. ”

I snap my mouth shut. I shouldn’t give any of my vulnerability to him. He doesn’t deserve it.

I step into the water, hanging my head to let it run down over my back.

Ktytor doesn’t reply, and I figure he went back to bed.

I run my hands through my hair, wishing I hadn’t accepted his invitation to stay.

But I know I needed to. What shot do I have getting drafted if I can’t show them I’m one of them?

I’m not Ktytor. He’ll get drafted no matter what, but I need these camps.

It would be so much easier to hate him. Why the fuck did I let my dick get involved? But I hadn’t, really. I still don’t know how this started, no matter how many times I’ve gone over it in my head.

The shower curtain rips open, and I spin around to find Ktytor standing there with a sneer on his face.

“What the fuck?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.

“You’re not the only one who has it hard.”

I scoff. “Sorry it’s so hard to be arguably the best player in college hockey with tons of prospects and the inability to feel regret or be unsure about fucking anything.”

His eyes flash with rage. “You have no fucking clue what my life is like.”

“No, I don’t. And you know nothing about mine.” I try to pull the shower curtain closed, but he throws up a hand, blocking it.

“I’m not done with you.”

I turn around facing the shower head. If he wants to get water everywhere, he can deal with it. “I have nothing else to say to you.”

He grabs my shoulder, turning me halfway as he steps into the shower while shoving me up against the wall. “You don’t get to speak and not listen to a reply.”

“There’s no point to this conversation.” I grab his arm but don’t rip it off. I’m not sure why I hesitate.

“Because your ego can’t take it?”

“Why are you even pushing this? I already sucked your dick. Just let me shower in peace.”

He stares into my eyes for a long moment, both of us breathing hard.

“Do you really want to spend the rest of your fucking life in your head?” he finally says.

“Not all of us can repress our feelings,” I say through my teeth, desperate to fight or shut him up or get him to leave me alone. Anything but to have this conversation with him.

“All of us have shit going on. I’m not trying to compete, but if you’re kissing me, your mind should be here with me.” His fingers flex, digging into my shoulder.

I suck in a breath through my teeth. “I’m fucking sorry. Are you happy?”

“At least you didn’t make an excuse this time.” He cracks a smile and drops his hand, and I’m sad it’s gone.

“Can we go back to kissing now?” I ask.

“If you want to get off, fucking take it.”