Pucking Wild: A Reverse Age Gap Hockey Romance (Jacksonville Rays Book 2)

Pucking Wild: Chapter 48



Volunteer day was a huge success, mainly because Ryan stole the freaking show. He was so helpful. He kept all the kids interested and asked insightful questions of Ranger John. He carried equipment, assisted with demonstrations, and at the end of the afternoon, he had everyone pose in a picture that he posted to his Instagram account. The boys flipped when he handed them his phone and let them tag themselves in it.

Then Nancy and Cheryl invited the Out of the Net team out for appetizers and Ryan declared himself my plus one. The bar is packed for happy hour with live music set up in the front. The walls hum with vibrations as they do a cover of Prince’s “Nothing Compares to You.”

Meanwhile, Ryan and I are in the gender-neutral bathroom with the door locked, his hand pressed over my mouth, my back pressed up against the graffitied wall, as his dick pounds into my slick pussy. How we got here, I have no idea. I blame the chardonnay…okay, and the fact that I spent a whole afternoon with this handsome, attentive man looking at me like I was his sunrise.

Everyone else was there for the turtles. Ryan was there for me.

“Come for me,” he says, his breath hot in my ear as he holds me pinned to the wall.

I ride the high of this feeling. Life pulses just outside the door, a world of people laughing and drinking, oblivious to the fact that Ryan and I are locked in this room, bodies trembling as we chase our releases.

“Oh my god,” I moan against his hand.

“If you think you’re gonna walk out of here without coming on my dick—” His threat falls away as he pulls out, leaving me gasping.

“No, don’t stop,” I pant.

“Turn around,” he growls. “Hands on the sink. Bend the fuck over.”

My greedy pussy does a little dance as I realize exactly what he intends to do next. He threatened to do it on our first date. It turned me all the way on that night too. “Do it,” I say, dropping my hands down to grip either side of the sink.

My leggings and undies have already been ripped down my legs so I could spread them. I’ve got them twisted around my left ankle, my ass and pussy bare for him.

His hand smooths over the curve of my butt as he groans. I watch him in the mirror, looking down at me with such open hunger in his eyes. Watching him look at me like this is gonna make me shatter without a touch.

“Ryan…”

He looks up, blinking as he sees us in the mirror. Our reflections hold eye contact as he simmers with need.

“Do it,” I say again.

Bringing his hand away, he gives me a sharp slap.

I gasp, biting my lip as the delicious sting rockets from my ass straight to my clit. I groan, wiggling my hips a little as his hand drops down and smooths over the spot.

“Again,” I say, watching his reflection in the mirror.

He slaps me again, and we’re both groaning now. Dropping to one knee, he peppers kisses over the spot, soothing the burn with his tongue. Then he’s back on his feet.

Slap.

“Oh, god,” I whimper, loving that I get to watch the motion of his hand in the mirror. I can’t take much more teasing, though. My pussy is dripping. I need to come. “Fuck me, Ryan,” I beg. “Please, baby, please—”

He grabs me tight by the hips, one hand smoothing up my lower back, under my shirt, as he shoves his other hand between my thighs. His fingers open me up, then the head of his dick is there and I’m sinking back against him, hungry for that feeling of fullness.

God, I’ve missed fucking with real dicks. And Ryan’s is so pretty and long, and he knows just what to do with it. He gets himself in position, the tip of his dick sitting right where I want it. He looks up in the mirror, eyes dark, and nods. Holding each other’s gaze, I push, and he pulls, and I take him to the freaking hilt on a silent scream. The moment I feel his hips pressing against my ass, there comes a loud knock, ratting the metal door.

Bang. Bang.

I swallow my shriek, my thighs clenching around Ryan’s dick as he barks out, “In a minute!”

I tremble with a silent laugh, my hands still gripping tight to the sink.

“Hurry up in there,” the guy shouts back.

Ryan folds himself around me, his hands joining mine on the sink. “You heard him,” he says, playfully nipping my neck. “Hurry up and come before you get us thrown out.”

“Come with me,” I beg, holding his gaze in the mirror.

“Watch me. Keep your eyes on me. Don’t look away.”

“Oh god,” I whimper again, my lips parted as I breathe out. This is so erotic, so raw. I’ve never held this kind of eye contact with another person during sex before. I’ve never been able to see so much before. I can see him moving against me—my naked flesh, his grasping hands, my trembling shoulders.

He rocks his hips against my ass, his dick filling me so full. I hold tight to the sink, mesmerized as I watch him worship me. I meet him thrust for thrust, the flames of my orgasm burning hotter, spreading outwards.

“You’re so beautiful. You ride my dick like a queen. God—you’re all fucking mine—”

I tip my head back, fighting the urge to close my eyes, as his hand snakes around and begins teasing my clit. “Yes—yes—I’m so close—right there—” My words choke off on a squeak as I swallow a scream.

“Come,” he commands. “Finish with me.”

I shut my eyes, unable to take another second of this vulnerability, this connectivity. I let my every sense latch onto the physical as I shatter, undone by the way he makes me feel. I come so hard, my pussy clenching down tight on his dick as his hips stutter and he collapses over my back, coming inside me. His hands cover mine on the sink as he looks for something to hold on to, something to anchor him as he comes apart. Someone.

Me.

He’s holding on to me. We’re holding on to each other. The terrifying truth hits me as our eyes connect in the mirror again and I see that perfectly sated look on his face. He’s happy. He’s so goddamn content. He’s here for me. He wants me.

But this can’t last. This won’t last. Nothing ever does. I’m broken, and I break things. We’re holding on to each other so tight because we know this ship is already sinking. And I’m the iceberg. It’s always me.

The clock is ticking. It pulses in my ears to the rhythm of the Prince cover band playing not twenty feet away from us on the other side of that locked door. Tick, tick, tick.

How soon before he lets go?

How soon before I’m back to saving myself?

It’s time to do what I do best. It’s time to let go first.


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