Page 37 of Pucking Unhinged
“That’s it,” he breathes, his voice trembling. “That’s mine. Fuck, you feel so good.”
His mouth presses into my shoulder, then into my neck, lips and teeth and needy kisses as he fucks me, whispering praise like a freaking benediction. Every syllable is for me. “You’re perfect. So good. My God, you’re mine, baby.”
I come loud, ragged, all the tension of the last weeks collapsing into waves that convulse through me. My body tries to arch up against him, as if I’m trying to get closer, voice shredding his name. I feel myself fold, everything burning and soft at once as my orgasm rolls and rolls, and the sound I make is for him only.
He follows me fast, the heat of him, the quick, desperate thrusts as he chases after his own release. I feel him go hollow with it, his cock throbbing and the hot ropes of him spilling deep inside of me. His cock is still hard, pulsing, filling me until I’m trembling from the inside out. His forehead finds my shoulder, his breath ragged against my skin.
“Always inside of you,” he whispers into my ear. “Do you hear me, baby? I will never pull out.”
My heart threatens to beat out of my chest. He keeps talking, murmurs of praise and promises tumbling from him. “You’re going to be mine in every sense of the word. You’re going to be my wife. You’re going to have my children. And you…” he lets out what can only be called an exhausted laugh before he adds, “…are absolutely moving all the way, full-time into my room.”
I laugh too, it feels like a half happy sob, half giggle, because it’s ridiculous and perfect and the only right answer. He lifts himself just enough for me to turn and tuck myself against his side and under his arm. I shift because we’re both burning up,and I think that lying next to him on my back might be the better option. Before I can move fully onto my back, he hooks my leg over his hip so I’m facing him and slides his cock back into me. We both hiss, pleasure sharp and immediate, and for a second my world begins and ends here.
Who am I kidding? My world, for the longest time has hinged on Tristan Vale, and I’m certain it always will.
Tristan pulls the covers over us, tucking the edge around our ankles. He shifts until our heads are on the pillows, my cheek pressed against the hard plane of his chest. I burrow in, nose over the soft thrum of his heart, and press my mouth right over it and kiss it like a promise.
He drops a small, sleepy kiss to the top of my head, fingers combing through my hair. “Sweet dreams, dushen’ka,” he murmurs.
I close my eyes with him holding me, my giant, gentle only for me, man and fall into the most peaceful sleep.
TRISTAN
We just got to the arena for the first game I’ll be playing in since I killed my father.
I thought maybe murdering my own blood would sit heavier than this. I thought that perhaps after a few days, the weight of what I’ve done would crush me down to the concrete. I knew I wouldn’t regret it because it was all for Winter, but I thought maybe I’d have some kind of sadness that he’s gone. But I don’t. He deserved what he got, and I’m glad I was the one who did it.
To be honest? All I can think about is Winter.
How much I love her. Our future together, and how it might play out. For the first time in a long time, I feel excited for what comes next, instead of dreading the day she realizes I don’t deserve her.
She’s still out of my league, everyone’s league for that matter, but I feel like I brought her some justice for what happened to her. Every threat has been eliminated, and she’s free and safe to do as she pleases.
And she chooses to be with me.
I let it slip last night that I want her to be my wife. I meant it…I just left out the part where I mean effective immediately. Notsomeday. Not after graduation. Now. I want her bound to me in every way possible until there’s no separating where I end and she begins. We’ve been forced to wait in agony for too long, and I don’t have it in me to keep pretending patience is something I’m capable of.
I glance over at my girl. She’s giggling with Madi, both of them peeking down the side hallway where Hayden and Callum are getting their asses handed to them by Coach Kav. Apparently during last practice, Callum punched Hayden in the face after Hayden whacked him on the ass with his stick hard enough to splinter it. Of course he did. I missed the show, busy murdering my only living parent and all, and I’m glad I did because I know I would have been dragged into the whole thing. The muffled ranting shifts into Coach Kav and Hayden screaming at each other in the same cadence. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear they share the same goddamn blood.
Lilac steps back from where she was watching the argument from a closer vantage point just inside the hallway. She lifts her hand to her face, like she can already predict what’s about to happen, because just then Callum bellows at Coach Kav, “IT’S OKAY, HE’S MY FRIEND!”
Our girls collapse into laughter, leaning on each other to stay upright. Whatever Kav fires back with must cut things short, because seconds later Hayden and Callum stomp out of the hallway, trying to act like they aren’t the whole, entire problem in this situation.
I tune out Hayden’s loud ass because Winter is walking toward me. She’s in a Castlebrook jersey, and it doesn’t escape me that she’s wearing the last name of the man who only ever saw her as a pawn stretched across her back. My number stamped just beneath it. It’s supposed to be a loving gesture, but the thought makes me sick. She’s wearing it for me, though, and that cracks my chest open in a way I can’t stand. I silently vowright now that I’ll fix it. That name will be gone for her and for me.
Players file in and out of the locker room, voices bouncing off the walls, but I don’t care. Not when she’s walking straight into my arms without hesitation.
Winter’s hands grip the front of my hoodie, tugging me down to her height. Her mouth crashes into mine. It’s not shy, not quick. It’s a kiss that says she doesn’t give a damn who sees us.
“Have a great game,” she whispers against my lips, voice lilting with a tease that makes my chest flutter in a way I don’t think I’ll ever get used to. “Think you can block some pucks for me?”
I brush my lips across hers, slow, steady, and tell her the only truth that’s ever mattered.
“Everything I do is for you, baby.” She smiles against my lips, and I don’t want to let her go.
Coach Kav comes barreling out of his hallway of hell. He’s got his clipboard, and Hayden’s already put him in a bad mood. I kiss Winter one more time and then watch as she blows me a kiss, and then slides between Madi and Lilac. She links arms with them, all three girls heading down the hallway that leads to the stands. My chest stays warm where she pressed against me, and I hope her presence stays with me for as long as possible.
Inside the locker room, I barely get two steps before I’m confronted by Callum. He’s half-suited up, chest pads hanging loose, like he’s been sitting here just waiting to pester me.
