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Fuck, I need to kiss her right now.
I toss my stick and take off across the ice, hopping the boards into the box. Everyone pounds me on the back, shouting and cheering. I don't hear a fucking word they're saying to me. I push my way through all of them, moving toward Jamie.
She moves toward me, too, crowding up against the boards separating the box from the front row. "You did it," she says, beaming at me. "You're going to the playoffs, superstar."
I shake my glove off and then toss my helmet and mouthguard.
"Come here," I growl, grasping the front of her jersey.
She sways toward me, still smiling.
I wrap an arm around her waist, hauling her over the boards into the box with me. And then I do what I've wanted to do forfar too fucking long. I kiss the smile from her lips, claiming her in front of the world.
A roar of approval goes up from the crowd around us as she twines her arms around my neck, claiming me too.
It's the single-best game of the season. No, it's the single-best game, period.
Epilogue
Jonas
Five Years Later
"I said lift your ass in the air," I growl, bringing my hand down against my wife's right cheek in a sharp smack.
She sobs my name and rocks back against me, impaling herself on my cock like a good girl. Fuck, she's hot. I get a little rough with her, and she goes wild. It's the sexiest thing I've ever seen. I've been watching it for five years, and it never gets old. It never fails to blow my mind.
I'm one lucky motherfucker, and I know it.
She lifts her ass higher, pressing her upper body to the bed. Fuck yeah. Now that's a sight.
I wrap one hand around her hip, running the other over her red ass to soothe the sting as I pound into her. It's always a damn race with her, trying to get her there before I lose it and claim her womb. Leaving her dripping my cum is my favorite thing to do. I don't even care what that says about me. There's something downright perfect about knowing my wife walks around with my seed dripping from her hot little hole nine days out of ten.
"Jonas, please," she moans.
"Is this what you're begging for, angel?" I ask, slipping my hand between her plump cheeks to play with her tight little arsehole. She'll never admit it out loud, at least not to anyone but me, but she loves when she's stuffed full of me, my cock in one hole, my fingers, or a vibrator in the other. Nothing makes her come harder than having me everywhere.
I use her juices as lube, pressing my finger to the tight ring of muscle. She moans and presses back against me, letting me know I read her right. This is exactly what she was after.
"Yes!" she cries, rocking against me as I slip one finger inside, twisting and pushing, stretching her. "Oh, please."
I add a second finger.
She melts beneath me, sobbing in ecstasy.
"I gave you what you wanted, angel," I murmur. "Now it's your turn. Fuck yourself with my cock."
She leaps to obey, always so greedy and eager. Sex with her never gets boring. It's never anything less than fucking perfect. Shestillblows my damn mind every time I'm in her.
There isn't much we haven't done in the last five years. I've had this woman every way there is to have a woman. We've fucked every way there is to fuck. I still can't wait to get home to do it again when we're in public. I still can't keep my hands to myself.
I don't know how I managed it that first year. It was the dumbest thing I've ever done...and I've done a lot of stupid shit.But she settles me. She makes me still. I don't need chaos and excitement and constant entertainment the way I did before her.
When she's in my arms, I'm at peace. Getting my head out of my ass and claiming her was the best decision I've ever made.
"Jonas," she chants, slamming herself back on my cock and then dragging herself forward only to do it again. Our bodies come together with a slap, skin striking skin, hard on soft.
I release my hold on her hip, slipping my hand between her legs to play with her clit.
