Big Puck (a hot hockey romantic comedy) (Size Matters Book 6)

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Big Puck (a hot hockey romantic comedy) (Size Matters Book 6) Page 8

by Blake Wilder


  “Fuck,” I murmured appreciatively as I stripped his shirt off. Alex was a bronzed, musclebound, chiseled-in-stone god. “I want to lick every part of you.”

  I hadn’t meant to say that aloud, belatedly realizing it might come across as sort of weird, but Alex didn’t laugh. Instead, he cupped the back of my neck, drawing my face toward his chest. “Lick, kiss, bite. I don’t give a fuck. I want your mouth on me anyway I can get it, sweetheart.”

  I took him at his word, sinking my teeth into his pec until he hissed in pain. Then I stepped back and gave him a victorious grin.

  “Like that, is it?” His voice was deep, dark, and dangerous.

  I leaned forward, biting the other pec before running my tongue over his nipple.

  “You remember what I said back at the chapel?” he asked.

  He said a lot of things, the most memorable being “I do.” But I knew that wasn’t what he was talking about.

  I ran my hands over his stomach and unfastened his belt, pulling it free with a quick, loud snick as it slid through the loops. Rather than drop the leather, I bent it in half, then drew it over his chest. At the last second, I slapped it against his taut stomach before saying, “I do.”

  He let me have that free shot. Just the one. Then he reached out and grasped my wrist firmly. “You wanna play rough?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question?”

  Alex knew me. Maybe we hadn’t seen each other in years, but deep down inside, I was the same girl, the same tomboy who played to win and didn’t mind drawing blood if it got me what I wanted.

  Alex was the same.

  He gave me a ghost of a grin, the most sinful smile I’d ever seen before he used his grip on my wrist to twist me away from him. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly, my back to his chest, my arms trapped by my sides. His cock was hard and thick, pressing against my ass, his pants an unwanted barrier.

  “Birth control?” he asked.

  “Pill.”

  I struggled, not because I wanted to get away from him. Because I wanted to rip him out of his fucking pants, push him on to the bed and ride his cock, hard.

  His grip tightened, his teeth nipping at my bare shoulder before he pressed his mouth to my ear. “You realize I’m going to come out on top, sweetheart. You’re mine, Charley. Completely.”

  Everything inside me exploded with need. Alex said all the right words, knew exactly how to hold me. He was my dirtiest fantasy come true.

  “Prove it,” I taunted.

  One second, I was captive in Alex’s arms, the next I was facedown on the mattress, my wrists clasped together behind my back, shackled by one of his oh-so-big hands. With the other, he slapped my ass. Hard.

  I reared up, fighting for control I didn’t want, as he spanked me again.

  “More,” I demanded.

  He placed half a dozen slaps on my ass and upper thighs before he stopped and ran his hand over my now-sensitive skin.

  I lay still, soaking up the suddenly gentle touch. Alex mistook my quietness as surrender.

  His mistake.

  I flipped to my back in one swift motion, wrapping my legs around his waist. The sudden movement caught him off guard and he fell forward, bending to catch himself before he crushed me, his elbows landing on the mattress by my shoulders.

  I attacked, biting his neck at the same time I raked the back of his shoulders with my fingernails.

  He hissed, and for a split second, I felt bad about scratching him.

  The guilt was short-lived. Especially when he bent his head and sucked my nipple into his mouth so hard, I saw stars.

  “Fuck!” I yelled.

  He lifted his head victoriously. “Mine,” he said again, so smug.

  I used my legs around his waist to draw him down to me, pinching his arm. “Why are you still wearing pants?” I bitched.

  Alex didn’t respond, didn’t give up possession of my tit. He bit my nipple before turning to assault the other one. “You’ll get my dick when I give it to you.”

  Oh fuck no.

  Pain morphed to arousal then everything turned primal.

  I rubbed my pussy against his covered dick, dry humping him, out of control.

  Alex reached lower, using one hand to unbutton his pants, to lower the zipper.

  “In me,” I cried out. “Now, goddammit!”

  He didn’t bother to lower his pants. He simply reached in, drew his cock and then…

  “Fuck! Me!” I screamed as he thrust to the hilt with one powerful shove. I came instantly, waves crashing over me, pummeling me, drowning me.

  Everything turned to white noise, though I was vaguely aware of crying out his name, my nails scoring his back viciously. I was definitely drawing blood. I didn’t care.

  Alex didn’t give me a chance to recover, didn’t give way. He thrust into me harder, faster than I’d ever been taken in my life.

  It was fierce.

  It was ecstasy.

  “Mine,” Alex yelled again, his lips near my ear. “Mine. Wife.”

  That word penetrated, hit me hard.

  Because it sounded so good.

  So right.

  So…fuck.

  Wrong.

  Nine

  Alex

  I rolled over and stretched, every muscle tight, sore. Jesus. Even my dick hurt. What the fuck happened…

  Just like that, it all came back to me.

  The reception, the tequila, the chapel.

  The honeymoon.

  I married Charley Matthews.

  I let that soak in for a second.

  Yep. That’s what I thought. Not a single regret.

  I smiled when I heard my not-quite-so-angelic angel of the morning roll over, groaning and rubbing her forehead.

  “Mother fucker,” she said, squinting against the sun shining across the bed.

  I held still, waiting for the moment when…

  “Oh my God,” she whispered.

  She’d spotted me.

  I looked over, catching a quick peek of her tits before she pulled the sheet over her naked body.

  The devil in me wouldn’t let her off easy, so I reached over and pulled the covers back, the two of us waging a mini-battle—one I let her win, but not before reminding her, “I saw it all last night, sweetheart.”

  “You got me drunk.”

  “The way I recall it, the shots game was your idea.”

  “Still your fault.”

  I chuckled. “How do you figure?”

  “You should have won that fucking hockey game.”

  “Ouch,” I teased.

  “Too soon?”

  I pushed myself up, reaching over to tickle her. “Always too soon for that.”

  She squealed under my assault, trying to push my hands away. I only relented when she gave up, opting instead to rub her forehead again. “Don’t make me laugh. I have the hangover from hell.”

  The sheet had slipped down during our struggles, giving me an unobstructed view of her tits. Unable to resist, I cupped one, squeezing it.

  Charley’s eyes drifted shut for one second, as she groaned, no longer in pain, but with pleasure. It was short-lived.

  She shoved my hand away, covering herself once more. “Alex. We really fucked up.”

  “No, we didn’t.”

  She waved her left hand at me, drawing my attention to her wedding ring. I lifted mine to her, trying not to consider how much I actually liked the feel of it.

  “I got one too.”

  “We’ve made a mess of things. And you’re not taking any of it seriously.”

  “Of course, I am.”

  She ignored me, clutching the sheet to her as she looked around on the floor for her clothing.

  Getting dressed was definitely not on my agenda for the day. Maybe not tomorrow either.

  Wrapping my arm around her waist, I tugged her back toward me on the bed, spooning her, letting her feel my hard-on.

  She fought for a few moments before conceding. The
re was no way I was letting her leave in her current state of mind. We needed to talk…after a few rounds of morning sex.

  “Alex. Please. Let me get dressed, then we can sort this whole disaster out.”

  I bit her shoulder before bending closer to her, my lips next to her ear. “Fuckup. Mess. Disaster. You say one more disparaging word about our marriage and I’m going to turn you over my knee and remind you exactly why it’s none of those things.” I ran my hand over her bare ass, enjoying the way she shivered in response. Yeah. She might have been drunk, but she remembered last night.

  Charley liked being spanked. And I sure as fuck liked spanking her.

  She sighed when I wrapped my arm around her waist again, snuggling her closer to me.

  She managed to lie still for about thirty seconds before she wiggled her ass, then tried to push my hips away from her. “I can’t think with that thing poking me in the ass.”

  Her choice of words only made me harder. “I’m a guy, Charley. Morning wood is just a fact of life.”

  She shoved at me one last time. “Well, put it away. It’s distracting.”

  Sounded like an invitation to me.

  I pushed her to her stomach, then lifted her hips. Before she could protest, I had the head of my dick lodged just inside her. Oh yeah. I wasn’t the only one with sex on the brain. “When exactly did you start getting wet, sweetheart? When I threatened to spank you? When I tickled you?”

  As I spoke, I slowly slid deeper.

  Charley didn’t even bother to resist me. Instead, she started moving back, trying to draw me in faster. Once I was seated to the hilt, she glanced over her shoulder at me, with a look that was pure seductress. “I got wet the second I woke and saw you lying next to me.”

  There were probably a million reasons why Charley was right, why this whole marriage thing was a mistake, a fuckup, a disaster.

  None of them stood a chance of mattering when it came to this.

  I withdrew until just the head of my dick was still tucked inside, then I plowed back in, deep and hard.

  I had a split second of regret. I’d taken her just as hard last night. She had to be sore. I tried to slow my roll, but Charley made it impossible for me to play the gentleman. She reached lower, gripping my balls, squeezing them.

  “Jesus.” The woman was a tiger.

  All bets were off. I grasped her hips tighter and gave in to the raging beast she’d released. Over and over, I slammed into her, Charley pushing her ass higher, moving back in time with each return trip.

  I remembered all the times she’d checked me on the ice back in school. Hell, I wasn’t proud to admit I’d checked her just as much, pushed her into the wall, made sure she got as good as she gave. We’d always played rough, but this…

  She wanted to end this game, wanted to call it quits.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  She should know better. There was no way I was giving her up this soon.

  But brawn wasn’t going to win this battle.

  This one required more finesse, more skill.

  I pulled out just before she came.

  Charley snarled, flipping to her back, trying in vain to grasp my dick, to draw me back into her body.

  I avoided her hands and legs, and moved away. When she kept coming for me, I left the bed completely.

  “What the hell is wrong with you? I was close,” she said, coming up on her knees.

  “You and I have a disaster to sort out.”

  She blinked a few times, clearly confused by my hardcore about-face. “What are you? Some kind of sadist? Let’s finish what we just started. One last hurrah and then we can get divorced.”

  “No.”

  She frowned, her gaze dropping to my fully erect, three-seconds-from-blowing cock.

  Charley didn’t understand my refusal.

  “I’ll finish fucking you, Charley, but only after you give in to my demands.”

  She narrowed her eyes in a way I didn’t trust for one red-hot second. Especially when an evil grin crossed her face.

  She reached lower and ran her fingers over her clit, her eyes closing in pleasure, her breathing grew shallow when she stroked it again. And again.

  I reached out and grabbed her wrist. Stopped her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  She smiled smugly. “I don’t need you to get what I want. I’m right there.” She tried to pull her hand free, but I didn’t release her. When she went in with her left, I grasped it too.

  Charley put up a hell of a fight, but she was no match for me. My belt was on the floor at my feet, so I released her briefly and bent to retrieve it. Charley didn’t realize she hadn’t gotten loose on her own, didn’t understand my intent.

  So rather than try to escape me—which would have been the smarter thing—she started to play with herself once more.

  She only got two quick strokes in before I was on her, straddling her thighs, her hands back in mine. I lifted them to the headboard and quickly—efficiently—bound them together there.

  Charley pulled hard, intent on breaking free, but this wasn’t my first rodeo.

  “Untie me.”

  I didn’t play without consent, didn’t hold a woman against her will. I ran my hand downwards, running my fingers over the spot where she’d just touched herself.

  She moaned, then whispered, “More, please.”

  Yeah. Just as I thought. She wasn’t afraid. God, given the shiny juices painting her inner thighs, I’d say she was even wetter than before.

  I pulled my fingers away, my retreat met by curses.

  “Goddammit, Alex. This isn’t funny. Stop fucking around and fuck me.”

  “Not until you give me what I want.”

  For the first time since I’d withdrawn from her, Charley stilled, stopped fighting. She was an intelligent woman, smart enough to know she was in no position to get her way until I got mine.

  Of course, knowing something was a thousand miles away from accepting it.

  “What do you want?” Her question sounded as if it tasted like shit on her lips.

  “A honeymoon.”

  My words seemed to catch her off guard. “Aren’t we sort of in the middle of that? And aren’t you basically fucking it up?”

  I shook my head. “All you’ve given me is a night and a morning. A proper honeymoon should last longer.”

  “But we’re leaving today. I’m flying back to Wisconsin and I assume your ticket says Baltimore.”

  Mine did. But tickets could be changed. I had no reason to return to Baltimore immediately now that the season was over. Besides, my one trip home each year always happened around this time. I was on the road with the team over the holidays, so I always made the journey to see my folks shortly after each season.

  I’d planned to visit my parents in a couple of weeks, after completing some end-of-season duties for the team. But that trip could be moved up.

  I did a bit of sex math in my head, working out an equation that would help me determine how long it would reasonably take me to fuck Charley out of my system. Then I compared that answer to how long I could remain in Wisconsin and put off my off-season duties to the team.

  I had an afternoon exhibition game to raise money for the organization’s charity. There was a big gala at a swanky hotel following the game, same night. Black tie, champagne, hoity-toity music, hobnobbing with the rich and famous.

  It marked the official end of my duties to the team before the summer break.

  The event was two weeks from now.

  That could work.

  Maybe.

  “I’m going back to Wisconsin with you.”

  She crinkled her nose. “That’s your idea of a honeymoon? Going back to our hometown where we will be surrounded by our family?”

  “We’ll stay a week or so. Long enough for me to visit my parents and for you to pack a bag. Then you’re coming back to Baltimore with me for a week.”

  Charley struggled against the bonds again, but the belt held tig
ht. She sighed. “Why on earth would I go to Baltimore?”

  “I have a charity thing, an exhibition game the owner of the team puts on every year, followed by a gala. I have to attend. You can be my date.”

  She gave me an are-you-fucking-with-me look. “You can’t tell me you don’t have a dozen rink bunnies who wouldn’t give their left tit to go to this game with you.”

  “I’ve got two dozen rink bunnies I could call. But I’m not because you’re going with me.”

  “Why?”

  I knew I was a pretty cocky guy, but that didn’t change the fact that I was surprised by her resistance. Charley was, hands down, the only woman I’d ever met who wouldn’t jump at the chance to go to a swanky party with me.

  “Because that’s what good little wives do,” I replied, fully aware my answer would piss her off.

  “You do realize you can’t keep me tied up like this forever. And when I do get loose, I’m kicking you in the balls for that.”

  I bent lower, running my lips over her cheek, down to her neck. She tilted her head, giving me ample access to kiss her there. “You wouldn’t want to damage the crown jewels,” I murmured.

  She ignored my warning. “So let me get this straight. You’re demanding a longer honeymoon. One that includes a week in Wisconsin and then another week and a date in Baltimore.”

  I nodded.

  “And…that’s it?”

  “What else did you expect?”

  “Honestly, I thought you were going to make sure I didn’t demand alimony or some kind of shit like that.”

  I hadn’t considered that for a second. While I had a lawyer, one who was a friend and fan as well, and who beat the word “prenup” into my brain whenever we went out, it never occurred to me that Charley would ask me for one red penny because I knew her, knew she never would.

  “You want alimony?” I asked.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Kicking you in the balls twice now.”

  I chuckled.

  “No, you jackass. I don’t want alimony. I want a divorce…or an annulment…or whatever it is we have to do.”

  “And I’m going to give it to you.” I paused, then added the word, “Eventually.”

  I liked the sound of that word because it was undefined. It meant we both got our way—she’d get the annulment and I’d get a lot more nights between her legs.

 

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