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“Please,” I say to him, so desperate I could get on my knees and beg.

Which, actually, that’s not a terrible idea. I’d be in front of him on my knees and his cock would be in front of my face. I could return this torture and slowly suck him off, just to pull off right before he comes so he can know why I’m so damn impatient.

He leans down and kisses me again as he thankfully removes his fingers from inside me. I let out a loud sigh of relief as our lips glide together.

Then, pulling away, he grabs the bottle of lube again and pops it open. He drizzles some into his palm and spreads it around his shaft. Looking down at me, he takes a deep, steadying breath and brings himself closer to me between my legs.

I grab the back of my thighs and pull my knees towards my chest. “Are we fucking or not?”

He smooths his hand across my abs. “Yes. I think we have waited long enough.”

“Good. Because my patience has worn thin. I’ve never been so horny in all my life.”

“You are sure this is how you want to satisfy that?” His expression has softened, which is an interesting contrast considering the size of the hard dick he’s holding in his hand not even half a foot away from my asshole.

“Yes. I’m sure!” I say and draw my knees back even further. Thank the hockey gods for goalie coaches always encouraging hip flexibility. It’s as if I’ve been training to take his cock my entire life.

“You are almost too much sometimes,” he says. His green eyes are filled with affection, and he keeps them on me as he scoots closer to my body on his knees. He only drops his gaze when the head of his cock nudges against my body. Then he looks down and with his mouth dropped slightly open, he slowly and gently pushes inside. And… oh my fuck.

I watch as his cheeks bloom a rosy pink, and his eyes roll back in his head. He swallows once he’s eased himself completely inside.

“Fuck…” I moan. He’s thick and long and he feels like he was always supposed to be inside me, making me feel whole.

He leans over me and brings our lips together. His kiss is slow and his hips move even slower, rocking himself in and out of me at a leisurely pace. It’s the best fucking feeling in the world.

I bring my hand to my dick between us and start to jerk myself off, matching the pace at which he’s fucking me. Okay, I lied. This is the best feeling in the world. Jerking myself off while the only person I’ve had intense feelings for slowly fucks me into the mattress.

With each thrust of his hips, it’s as if he gets even deeper, drawing us closer. Making us one. I get it now. Sex. Relationships. Falling for someone and having that person change your entire world. It makes perfect sense.

His thrusts are coming faster now. The head of his dick drags more frequently across the sweet spot in my ass that makes my toes tingle. And as his thrusts get faster, so does their intensity. The longer he fucks me, the more of a race this becomes. As I jerk my cock I feel like I’m chasing something. Chasing my bliss. Chasing his pleasure. Chasing the moment we crash together, changing both of us.

“Fuck,” I moan out again. My balls are starting to draw tight and there’s a tingle building in my core. “Nikolai, I’m gonna…”

“Come.” He cries out. “Me too.”

His thrusts become erratic and more intense. Rougher but in the best way. A way that pushes me right over the edge. As he’s fucking in and out of me with quick hard strokes, I feel my asshole clench and bear down on him, squeezing him tight as I come.

My release shoots out of me in thick ribbons, landing on my belly, warm and wet.

He cries out again, pleasure written all over his face as his thrusts begin to slow but go as deep as possible. I can feel the veins of his cock pump as he comes inside me. He buries his face into my neck and holds the two of us close. His breaths are heavy and strong.

Tired and spent, I bring one hand to his hair and hold him steady. The strands are damp with sweat.

When he’s caught his breath, he lifts his head away from my neck and looks down at me. It’s the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him.

Smiling, I brush his hair back and away from his glistening forehead. “That was way better than talking.”

TWENTY-SIX

Nikolai

I wake the next morning thrilled to find Ander still in my bed. He’s asleep on his stomach with his face turned to the side to face me, smashed into his pillow. He’s out cold but his body is anything but. Heat radiates off him and it feels so good on this cool late January morning.

The sun coming in through the window lights his face and brings out the warmth of his caramel-colored hair. I want to touch it. Smooth it away from his forehead just for an excuse to touch him.

Last night was perfect. Well, after the shaky start, of course. But once we got back on track, it turned into everything I hoped it would be. And more. Much more. I was shocked when I realized he wanted me to fuck him. If anyone had told me during the finals last year that during the next season I’d be having sex with Ander Bouchard, I’d never have believed them.

A part of me still doesn’t.