Nick is frozen solid when Matt drops to his knees in front of him, tugging playfully at the sock garters, letting them snap back against Nick’s skin. The sharp pain makes his cock jolt, the wet patch growing in the front of his underwear. He gasps as Matt mouths at it, humming softly. “Oh, look at you…” Matt sighs in admiration, sitting back on his heels to trace the lines of Nick’s abs with a finger.
It’s hard for Nick to think straight, pulse racing like a jackhammer, utterly mesmerized by how wide Matt’s pupils are blown, barely a thin ring of brown around fathomless black. “Here’s what I’m gonna do,” Matt murmurs, carefully beginningto unclip the garters from the socks. “You were so thoughtful, getting all dressed up for me. I don’t want it to go to waste.” He keeps unclipping, but doesn’t move to roll Nick’s socks down. “SoI’m gonna take these off,” he tugs gently at the waistband of Nick’s boxers, pulling them down without disturbing the socks or the now unclipped garter belt. Skin tingling as his most sensitive parts are exposed to the air, Nick obediently steps out of the underwear—then gasps as Matt reaches for the garter clips once more.
He’s clipping them back on to the socks.
“We’re gonna keep these little beauties right where they belong,” Matt continues. Then he pauses, frowning.
“What?”
“You should maybe take the shin guards off first.” He knocks playfully on Nick’s shin, getting the muffled sound of hitting plastic. “You really did just go into pre-game mode, didn’t you, babe?” He sounds amused, and Nick ducks his head sheepishly.
“I wanted to give you the full effect. Guess that’s sexier in theory than in practice.”
“It’s okay.” Matt’s fingers are tender as he rolls the socks down enough to remove the last of Nick’s armor, then clips them securely. “We’ll make it work.” The socks are a little baggy without the pads filling them out, but Nick finds it hard to care when Matt’s got that smoldering look on his face and his fingertips are playing with the garter straps.
“Put this back on,” Matt instructs, holding out the deep-crimson jersey, “and get on the bed.” Matt leans in for a kiss, short but hot, playfully biting Nick’s lower lip as he pulls away.
Scrambling into the jersey, Nick reaches out to touch Matt’s shirt, following the pattern of the lace. “You gonna take this off?”
“Not yet.” Matt shrugs out of his blazer. His peaked nipples are visible through the sheer shirt, his biceps flexing in the tightconfines of the sleeves. He slowly rolls those sleeves up to his elbows, eyes never leaving Nick.
Nick swallows hard, fingers clenched around the hem of his jersey. Then he crawls onto the bed, on his hands and knees, shooting a sultry look over his shoulder. His jersey rides up just far enough to give Matt a perfect view of his ass, framed by his garters. Nick has never felt so slutty in hislife. A thrill shoots through him, watching the way Matt’s cock strains at his underwear, his slacks undone and starting to slide down his hips.
“How are you evenreal?” Matt groans. He clambers onto the mattress behind Nick, the hem of his shirt tickling the sensitive skin of Nick’s inner thighs. Nick holds steady, resisting the urge to rock back against him. He feels Matt trace the large number nine on his back, then each of the letters of his name. Long fingers trail down to the edge of his jersey, pushing it up a little higher. When he snaps the garter elastic once more, Nick’s cock jerks, and he cries out. An apologetic kiss is pressed to the base of his spine.
“Look at you,” Matt murmurs. Nick can barely hear him over the blood pounding in his ears. “My beautiful NHL star, all dressed up for me.” He runs a hand gently over the swell of Nick’s backside. “Best ass in the league, no doubt about it.”
A huff of laughter escapes Nick, turning into more of a whine as Matt’s fingertips slip between his cheeks. “I want you to think of this every time you wear this jersey from now on. Because God knows I will be,” Matt growls. And then something else is touching Nick’s ass. Wet, firm muscle, spearing right into his center as firm hands pull his thighs wider. Nick swears loudly, the intrusion of Matt’s tongue chasing all other thoughts from his head. It’s all he can do to brace himself on his arms, pressing back against Matt’s face, desperate for more.
Nick wishes he could see what Matt sees, knows he must be a hell of a sight in his jersey and garters, pliant and submissive for the musician. More than that, he wishes he could see Matt, who as far as he’s aware is still mostly dressed—hadn’t even bothered taking his makeup off before rimming Nick into oblivion.
Maybe he can get a mirror for the bedroom. That’s something to think about, once he’s capable of more thoughts than just“Yes, God, more.”
“Fuckingtouch me, Matt, come on,” he begs. A dark chuckle is all the warning he gets before another snap of elastic, the shockwave going straight to his cock.
“Patience, baby,” Matt murmurs. “I had to play nice at the party tonight, even though I was counting down the minutes until I could be back here with you. Gave me alotof time to think about what I wanted to do with you. And then you had to go and flip that on its head by answering the door dressed likethat.” Far from annoyed, delight curls around his words, and he strokes gently up Nick’s back beneath the jersey. “You don’t get to come until I say so tonight, okay?” Another kiss to his spine, then a sharp bite to his ass cheek. Nick whines louder.
“If you leave a mark, I swear to God…” he grumbles, entirely lacking venom. Bite marks on his ass arenotsomething he wants to have to hide in the locker room. Matt snorts, pressing an apologetic kiss to the spot.
Matt shifts, and the gentlest of touches brushes teasingly over Nick’s length, sending a pulse of heat through his core. He tries to arch into the touch, but Matt’s hand is gone again, drifting up to play across his abs beneath his jersey. He touches everywhere but where Nick needs him the most, and Nick doesn’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking. “You’re killing me here,” he groans, giving a full body shudder as Matt brings him close to the edge for a second time, pulling awaybefore Nick can tip over into orgasm. A syrup-sweet chuckle slips out of his partner.
“I’m just being thorough,” Matt defends, pressing slick fingers oh-so-slowly inside Nick. Nick doesn’t know when or how Matt grabbed the lube and he doesn’t care, not if it means he gets to come soon. “You’re so hot like this, I want to take my time.”
Thorough is not the word he’d use to describe this sweet, sweet torture. “Evil,” he corrects, the word dissolving into a gasp as Matt presses right against that sweet spot.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” Matt assures him, another kiss pressed to his spine. When he leans forward, Nick feels bare skin press against him—when did Matt take his shirt off?
Everything is a haze of sensation; the whole world narrowing down to the places Matt’s touching him and the rasp of his jersey fabric against his skin. He squirms, desperate for some kind of release, and large hands bracket his waist to keep him still, pressing the garter belt sharply into the crease of his hips. It takes every ounce of self-control he has not to come as Matt eases into him, rocking back in the hopes of finding the perfect angle. Matt’s grip tightens.
“Don’t try to finish this too fast,” he scolds affectionately. An incredulous whine is Nick’s response.
“Matt, babe, if you go any slower, I’ll be retired before I get off,” he bites out. Matt laughs, reaching up to run a hand through Nick’s hair, tugging gently at the curls.
“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point. Youhavebeen such a good boy for me.” Nick is absolutely not going to acknowledge the way his cock jerks at those words, but from the flex of Matt’s fingers in his hair, he noticed it anyway. Asshole.
Finally, Matt starts to put his back into it, thrusting fully into Nick with a choked-off gasp. Nick’s shoulders tremble as he braces himself on the bed, eyes squeezed shut, lost in the rhythmof Matt’s body. The musician’s hands roam, still touching every part of him but his dick. Nick has never come untouched before, and it seems Matt is determined to change that. He’s so hard it’spainfuland panting like he’s just played triple OT, doing everything he can not to dissolve into a puddle of goo. “Matt,please, I can’t,” he gasps desperately, back arching as Matt leans over him, half holding him upright.
“Easy,” he murmurs, breath hot on Nick’s neck. “Come on, baby. You can let go, you’ve done so well, I’ve got you. Come for me, Nick.”
