Page 53 of Reckless On Ice

“Glad you noticed, but I’m sure yours is bigger, and I’ll be struggling to take that monster up the ass soon enough. Butfor 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 memoving. 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 cumfollows. 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.”

Twenty-eight

Knox

Ryder: Hey, I forgot my socks. I can’t leave the arena now, would you mind bringing them to me? They’re my game socks. The ones I wear for every game. I don't know how I missed them. Maybe your lips distracted me? You look really good on your knees…

Isnort as I read Ryder’s text while finally getting around to cleaning up the chicken parmesan dishes. He hasn’t been gone long, less than an hour, but it’s good to have his praises for the first blow job I’ve given coming through still. I fumbled my way through the blow job but hewas incredibly complimentary despite only having the one time with him to go off of, but he didn't seem to mind. He was right. It’s harder than it seems, but worth the effort to watch him fall apart because of what I do to him.

Knox: Of course. Tell me where they are and I’ll leave now. Where should I meet you?

Ryder: You’re a lifesaver, thank you! I’d play like shit without them, and I’d hate to suck with you watching. They’re blue and white striped socks and should be on top of my dresser. You can meet me at the players’ entrance. I’ll send you a location pin. Text me when you park in the players’ lot. I’ll send you the code, and I’ll meet you there. Thanks, baby.

My heart warms at his use of the endearment we’ve both settled on. I know he melts when I call him baby, but having him use it feels pretty damn good, too.

This is the first normal text conversation we’ve had, and I like the domesticity of it. I like helping him when he needs it. It’s nice to have the free time to do this for him. My season is winding down, and our games are once a week, typically on Sundays or Mondays, with a rare Thursday night game, anyway. My weekdays are for practice, and I have more flexibility, but I’m not always free, and I travel, too.

What would it be like to be home all the timeso I could run any errand for him, or to travel with Ryder whenever I wanted? His season is much longer than mine, and he has so many more games. He’s gone a lot more than I am, and his travel schedule is truly insane. What will our relationship look like as we settle in? How often will we even see each other? A few months ago, I was thankful for this fact because it meant we wouldn't cross paths all that often, but now, I’m dreading it. He leaves tomorrow for a road trip, and I’ll be gone when he gets back. Just when we get our shit together, we have to be apart for a week.

I don’t get to stew long on this because my phone chimes again. Ryder sends me a pin for the location to drive to and a code for the lot to park in. I find his socks right where he says they should be, and I set out on my little errand to bring my boyfriend his lucky fucking socks for game day. Not to say football players don't have their own superstitions, but Ryder definitely tops everyone I’ve known with his need for routine and habits.

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