Egotistical Puckboy (Puckboys 1)

He cups my face. “Kiss me, Anton.”

Fuck it.

I twist my fingers in his caramel-colored hair and bring our mouths together. That neediness settles.

With his mouth on me, I can finally give up control.

A long moan builds between us, and I’m not even sure which of us made the sound, but Ezra finally starts to give me what I need. His thrusts pick up speed, hitting my prostate just right as he kisses me until I can barely breathe.

It’s overpowering, indescribable to be owned like this. To finally let go and have him take over. My cock is trapped between us, teased with the friction between our bodies, the slickness as we start to build up a sweat, moving against each other, meeting each other halfway.

He doesn’t slow down or let up as he literally fucks me into the mattress, and Ezra’s stamina is blowing my mind. I’ve never hooked up with another athlete before, and I’m suddenly realizing what I was missing out on. Everything before with Ezra has been hot and fast and over when I want it to be over, but when I go to reach for my cock, Ezra pins my hands to the mattress.

“Not yet,” he breathes against my lips.

I could sob. I’m so close, and he’s hitting everything that drives me crazy, but I need that tiny bit more to tip me over the edge.

Ezra breaks our kiss and pulls back, looming over me as he starts to lose rhythm. He grunts with each thrust, eyes falling closed, and a moment later, his whole body goes tense as he comes.

I squirm, desperate, hands still pinned in his tightening hold.

I’m about to complain when Ezra pulls out suddenly and dives on my cock. His fingers slide inside my ass, and he pegs my prostate over and over as he swallows me deep into his throat. I grip his head, thighs trembling, fingers curling so tight I’m sure I’m about to rip out hair, but I’m so overwhelmed by the suction I forget to care.

And then I’m coming. It hits me so hard I swear stars burst in my vision, and I lose all track of who and where I am. I forget everything except this intense pleasure racing through me.

Ezra collapses against my chest. He’s hot and sweaty, just like me, and I lean my face down to breathe in the smell of his skin and sex. It’s intoxicating.

“Give me a second,” he murmurs sleepily. “Then I’ll be ready for round two.”

It’s ridiculous to think I’ll ever be able to get it up after that. “I think I need more than a second.”

He mumbles something that I miss, and then a long, deep inhale fills the air between us. He’s passed out. Trying not to disturb him, I roll off the condom, toss it in the general direction of the trash can, then wipe us off with the sheets and pull the blankets over us.

His face is buried in my neck, so it feels natural to wrap my arms around him. To hold him to me. I blame the neediness that he’s managed to silence for now.

Then I yawn widely and close my eyes.

I fall asleep next to him for the first time ever.

Seventeen

EZRA

As we board the plane in Vegas to fly to Denver, I go to take my seat when Coach’s voice fills the cabin.

“Palaszczuk, Hayes, you’re at the back with me.”

There are a few snarky comments, some jeers, and one big frown from Diedrich sent our way.

“What are we in trouble for now?” I ask when I reach his seat. “It’s been almost a week on the road, and we haven’t so much as got into a fight. Ooh, are you going to give us medals?”

Anton shoves me with a laugh.

“Sit,” Coach says and nods to the row in front of him.

Oh shit. We’re in a lot of trouble, then. Anton takes the window seat, me the aisle, leaving the middle seat as a buffer, and then we turn to Coach.

“When we get to Colorado, there’s going to be some room changes.”

“Room changes?” Anton asks.

“I’ve had the PR department, team management, and the owner chewing me out for my guys being more interested in pranks than playing hockey.”

“Come on, it’s all in good fun,” I say.

“Is it though?” Coach glares at us, and I get the impression he doesn’t want us to actually answer that. “Is it all in good fun that instead of being in the news for beating Arizona, the focus has been on our losses, and every sports reporter, fan, and even people who don’t care about hockey are out there analyzing every look you send each other on the ice. Every pass, every scowl, every smile, and every prank you post on social media. You two are under the microscope, so the GM suggested we room you together to save on hotel property damage bills. I, personally, don’t see how murdering each other will be better than pranking each other, but hey, it’s worth a try.”