Pucked (Pucked 1)

“You won the Stanley Cup tonight,” I murmur.

“Mmm, we did,” Alex says. He doesn’t take credit for the win. He’s such a team player.

“You scored the winning goal.” I run my hands over his shoulders and down his back, as I circle my hips. My damn pants need to come off.

“Does that make you hot?” His eyes light up in the most devilish way.

“Everything about you makes me hot. Watching you play makes me so wet I brought extra panties so I could change between innings,” I whisper-lie.

“They’re called periods in hockey. Innings are for baseball.” Alex sits back on his knees and pops the button on my pants.

I know that. I said it to see if he’s paying attention. Alex dips his fingers inside my panties, and I can no longer think straight. This means I start asking dumb questions. “Why do guys use sports metaphors for sex?”

He pauses, likely to see if I’m serious. “Because we can relate to them, I guess.”

Alex drops my pants off the edge of the bed and runs his rough hands up the outside of my thighs. He starts at my knee and kisses a path north. “I’m about to round third base.” He grins, closing in on the land of Beave.

I’m all out of snarky commentary. I grace him with a wanton sound as he dives between my legs.

His tongue glides along my slit. We both moan like crazy. Well, I moan, and Alex makes this tremendously sexy sound halfway between a growl and groan. He mumbles things I can’t understand, but the sensation it creates is unparalleled, so I’m not about to stop him to find out what I’m missing.

He sits back on his knees, lifting my hips so only my shoulders and my head rest on the bed. It gives me an incredible view of what he’s doing to me. He grazes my clit with his teeth at the same time as he rolls my nipples between his fingers.

It’s at this moment I explode into orgasm. My entire body feels like it’s being sucked into a vortex of sensation. I have no idea what sounds I’m making, if any at all, because my whole world seems to have gone black.

Alex sets me gently on the mattress, his head no longer between my thighs. “Did I do good?” He hovers above me, his face an inch from mine, and I can feel the monster cock twitching on my stomach.

“Ahmehgaw.”

“Is that a yes?” He looks awfully pleased. I can’t blame him. If I'd made him momentarily black out, I’d be smirky, too.

I nod in lieu of a verbal response. The monster cock nestles in, getting reacquainted with my special parts. Alex runs the head of his cock back and forth over my clit a couple of times, probably so he can hear my porn-like soundtrack. Then he slides home.

“Holy shit,” Alex groans.

“I know.” I nod into his shoulder and bite down because, hot damn, it’s been a while and nothing has changed about the dimensions of his cock.

He lifts his head as he begins to move. I’m locked in his stare, unable to break it as he shifts his weight so his pelvis grazes my clit with each slow thrust. I thread my hands into his hair and exhale unsteadily. The warmth spreading through my body is reflected in his eyes. His love, his desire, our mutual need envelop me, sensation and emotion merging. When I come, it’s going to be unbelievable.

“Violet.” He slides his hands under my shoulders, holding me tightly.

I moan the words I’ve been too afraid of until this moment. “I love you.”

I hope I’m semi-coherent, or I’ll feel like an idiot if he asks for clarification. My eyes beg to close, but I won’t let them. I stay focused on him as the sweetest smile appears, followed by the unexpected reply.

“Oh fuck. I’m com—”

His lips part and his eyes glaze. He pushes into me, deep and hard, hitting the special place inside that makes me see stars and fireworks and leprechauns. Never mind the leprechauns, they’re creepy.

We must lie there, completely immobile, for five minutes, which feels more like forty-five.

“That was awesome.” I look up at him blearily. I’m orgasm-stupid right now.

“Uh-huh.”

“Violet.”

“Mmm.”

Alex pulls the covers up, cocooning us in warmth and each other. “I love you, too.”VIOLETOur relationship isn’t magically perfect after Alex apologizes and we exchange I love you’s. We’re figuring things out and having fun while we’re doing it—and each other.

In the off-season, Alex trains almost daily, and much of his free time is taken up by promotional shoots. Apparently stealing one’s own thunder with a public declaration of love has an amazing impact on marketability. Companies are clamoring to use him for various campaigns. My personal favorite is his endorsement for Trojan condoms. Magnum, of course. I have a seven-foot cardboard cut-out of him in the corner of my bedroom. He wears only boxers. It’s the best jill-off inspiration I have. Alex turns it around to face the wall whenever he sleeps at my apartment.