Pucking Around: A Why Choose Hockey Romance (Jacksonville Rays Book 1)
Pucking Around: Chapter 65

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Mars steps inside, not looking back to see if I’m following. Of course, I am. He steps to the back of the elevator and turns, folding his arms across his chest, watching me stand at the threshold with an unreadable look on his face.

Heart in my throat, I step inside and turn quickly around. “What floor?”

“Three.”

I press the number three with my thumb, and it glows white. The car instantly starts moving. I close my eyes counting my heartbeats as Mars steps in behind me, his presence overwhelming me. He doesn’t touch me, but he leans in, his breath warm against my skin.

I feel him everywhere, my every sense prickling. I bite my lip, fighting the urge to lean back against him. The elevator dings and the doors open. I all but stumble out, breaking the connection between us. He shifts past me and moves off down the carpeted hall. I hurry after him, taking in the cut of his athletic body in his grey fitted t-shirt and slim black dress pants rolled up at the cuff.

His hand is in his pocket, fishing out his key, and then he’s opening the door to his room. I follow behind, watching as he walks right past our pair of bags on the floor by the closet. He walks all the way to the back of the room and slowly turns, holding to the edges of the desk as he leans against it, watching me, waiting.

I step inside the doorway, one hand holding the door open, the other curled around the strap of my purse on my shoulder. It’s a comfortable room with a king-sized bed along one wall, minibar under the large, flat-screen TV. My weekender bag is far enough inside the room that I’ll have to take another step to reach it. And unless I want to look like a total idiot holding onto the door and stretching my body out, I’ll have to let the door shut behind me.

Mars watches me, his expression totally unreadable. He’s not going to help me out here. This is my choice. If this door shuts behind me, we both know what will happen. God, I want it. I want him. I’ve wanted him for weeks.

Sudden death, Rachel. Take this shot and live with the consequences.

And I know what the consequences will be. If I reach out my hand, he’s taking it. Decision made, I take another step inside and drop my right hand away from the door. It swings shut behind me, settling into the latch with an ominous click.

The room is dark and moody, lit only by a single lamp in the corner. Ilmari leans against the edge of the desk with all the casual calm of a leopard on the hunt. As I watch him, he slips his hand in his pocket and pulls something out. Then both his hands are raising as he sweeps his hair back and up into a high knot on top of his head. His biceps bulge as he bends his arms, his fingers flexing around the elastic as he secures his hair. The move shows off the deep fade he has going up both sides of his head to his crown. The shave continues around the nape of his neck.

All the while, he watches me, his blue eyes blown black with desire. His eyes are the only thing giving him away. That and the tension in the room that now sits so thick you could cut it with a knife.

My pulse hammers as I take in the strength and elegance of his powerful form. “How are you feeling?” I murmur. “No pain from the cortisone shot?”

“No pain,” he mutters. Then he’s kicking off his shoes.

“You might have some stiffness in the hip for a day or two,” I stammer. “Some…umm…swelling. But that’s normal.”

“I don’t want to talk about my hip.” His hands drop to the hem of his shirt.

“Ilmari…” I say on a breath. There’s nothing else to be said.

We hold each other’s gaze. The only sound is the gentle hum of the AC unit. The heat of his gaze is going to burn me to ash.

“Tell me to stop,” he says.

Fighting a shiver, I whisper, “No.”

He pulls off the shirt, dropping it to the floor, and sweet baby Jesus. My eyes widen appreciatively. He looks almost ethereal in the soft golden light of the lamp. This man is beyond fit. Broad shoulders carry heavy muscle. He has well-defined pecs and an eight-pack that leads to a sharp V at his hips. My gaze follows the angle downwards, ending at the top of his pants. His hands are already resting there.

He can’t tear his gaze from me either. “Rachel, tell me to stop.”

I drop my purse to the floor, kicking off my shoes. “No.”

As he works the top of his pants open, I tug at the buttons of my white, silky blouse, untucking it from the top of my pants and stripping it off. It flutters to the floor at the same time that he slips his pants down, leaving him in nothing but a pair of fitted black boxer briefs.

I don’t hesitate, stripping off my black crop top and tossing it aside, exposing my bare breasts. My skin prickles with nerves, goosebumps spreading down my arms as my nipples harden into sharp peaks.

My leggings go next. I shimmy out of them, holding Ilmari’s molten gaze as I drop them to the floor. Now we’re standing feet apart wearing nothing but our underwear. Mine are a pair of blush pink panties.

He scans me from head to toe, nodding appreciatively as he takes in all my curves. “You’re beautiful, Rakas,” he murmurs.

“So are you,” I reply.

He holds my gaze, his chest expanding with each deep, steady breath. “Tell me to stop,” he says one last time.

“No,” I whisper, sealed to my fate. It barely takes a tug, and my panties slip down, dropping to my ankles. I step out of them, standing wholly naked before him.

With a low growl, he’s shoving off from the desk and crossing the room. I’m ready for him, my body melting against the warmth of his chest as he all but bends me back, stealing my breath with a desperate kiss. I sigh into him, my fingers brushing over the buzzed hair at his nape before I’m cupping his bearded cheeks.

I open fully to him, holding nothing back, and he reciprocates. He smells like heaven—that cologne that makes me think of cool summer nights on my family’s Montana ranch. In his arms, I feel like starlight and firelight mixed in one, cold and hot, distant and so very present. I’m experiencing everything at once, alive in my skin and burning with need.

Ilmari’s calloused hands rove. They take in the curve of my shoulders, sliding down to brush along each rib. I love the feel of his hands on me, exploring me, learning me. He cups my breasts with a groan, weighing them in his hands. I shiver with want as he pinches my nipples with thumb and forefinger. The burst of need coils deep in my core.

“Say it,” he growls, breaking our kiss.

My mind can’t form thoughts. “Please, Ilmari,” I whine against his lips.

“Say it,” he says again, his mouth dropping to my neck. He drives me wild as he sucks at my pulse point, his hands curving around to cup my ass and pull me tight against him. I feel the thick bulge in his briefs grinding against my hip.

“Ah—I want you,” I say, my hands holding tight to his shoulders as his face drops down, his mouth teasing my breast. His tongue starts flicking the tip of my nipple, sending rippling waves of desire straight to my aching pussy. Then he’s biting down with his teeth until I gasp.

He straightens, cupping my face with both hands as he stares into my soul. “Say it.”

I hold his gaze, my hand dropping down to cup his cock and—oh my fucking god—Caleb and Jake were right. Ilmari has a monster between his legs. Thick and long, I feel out its shape as he grunts, pressing back into my hand, craving more pressure. I burst open, saying all the things I’m feeling. “I want you, Mars. God—I have to have you. I’ve wanted you for so long. I’m aching for you…so wet for you…desperate for you.”

“Oon sun,” he whispers, his forehead pressed against mine, groaning as I slip my hand inside his briefs and fist his bare cock. “Say it, Rakas,” he begs one more time, and now I know what he wants to hear, though I can only guess at its meaning.

“Oon sun,” I repeat, trying to match his pronunciation.

He groans, fisting my hair and tipping my head back. “You’re mine.”

“Oon sun,” I say again. “I’m yours.”

“Mä kuulun sulle,” he murmurs, brushing my hair back. Then he’s dropping a hand to cup my bare pussy. “Haluun tätä.” His voice is little more than a groan. “I want this.”

I sigh with relief that my wait is finally over and press my hips into his hand. “It’s yours. Take me. Fuck me, Mars. And don’t hold back. God—please—just stop holding back. Let me in out of the cold,” I whisper, one hand still on his cock, the other smoothing down his chest. “I want in, Mars. Please, just let me in—”

His body crackles with electricity as he cups my chin hard, jerking my face up, holding my gaze. No one does intense like Ilmari Kinnunen. “I will not be gentle,” he growls.

“Good.” My pussy is already desperate.

As if to prove his point, he shoves two fingers inside me, sliding so easily through my wetness. I cry out, that first shudder of excitement at being filled zapping me down to my toes. He thrusts in and out, letting me adjust to his thick fingers.

“I will not wear a condom,” he adds. “This is a claiming, Rakas. I want to see my cum dripping from all your holes.”

“Yes,” I say on a breath, my heart fluttering like a wild bird trapped in a cage. I grin, still riding his fingers as I stroke my fist up and down his length, my thumb swirling at the top of his thick head, gathering his warm precum and spreading it down his shaft. “Enough talking. Do it, Mars. I’ll be so good for you. Show me what you like, and I’ll make all your dreams come true.”

He leans his face closer. “Bend over. Grab your ankles.”

My pussy screams as I turn in his arms. I press my ass against the bulge in his briefs and he growls, smacking my ass cheek hard enough to sting. I gasp, feeling the heat of that slap echoing deep in my core. At the same time, he wraps a hand around my throat and pulls me against him, whispering in my ear. “Do what you’re told, Rakas. Show me how well you bend.”

I smile. This man would die before hurting me. I know I’m safe. I know he’ll respect my limits. And he thrives on using his intuition. I want to see if he can read me as well as he reads the puck. Raising a hand, I tap his wrist. He immediately drops his hand away from my throat, shifting it down to the curve of my hip.

I bend forward, dropping into a yoga pose as I grab my ankles, my bare ass and pussy on full display for him.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, both hands smoothing over the round curves of my ass. “Wider.”

He supports my hips as I adjust my stance. Then he’s dropping his briefs to the floor, fisting himself one-handed before bending his knees and notching his tip at my tight entrance.

“Breathe,” he says, his hands on my hips as he makes a few thrusts, working his huge cock inside my tight pussy, made all the tighter by this angle.

“Oh, please,” I whisper, loving the feel of him pressing in deeper. “More.”

“You want more?” he says, his right hand smoothing over my ass.

“Yes,” I beg.

In an instant I’m crying out as he does two things at once. His left hand grips tight to my hip, holding me still, as he pounds in with his hips, burying his monster cock inches deeper inside me. At the same time, his right hand slaps my ass. Hard. I love this feeling of being so full. I’m getting dizzy from the blood draining to my head.

“Fuck me,” I whimper. “Mars, please—”

And then he unleashes himself. Holding me tight by the hips, he pounds into me, his hips slapping against my ass as my orgasm spirals tight and fast. I’m coming before I can even warn him, my moaned words unintelligible as my pussy grips tight to his dick, pulsing around him.

Abruptly, he’s pulling out, leaving me empty. “Up,” he orders. “Get up.”

I suck in a breath, rising up from my forward bend. Slowly, I turn in his arms. “Mars—”

“Get on the bed,” he orders. “On your back. Spread your legs.”

Curious to keep playing his game, I do as I’m told, crawling onto the bed, and flopping down onto my side before rolling onto my back. As he watches me, I let my legs drop open, exposing my pussy to him once more.

Then he’s crawling up the bed, wasting no time as he drops his mouth onto my clit and sucks. Once he starts mixing in his tongue, I know I’m a goner. I’m fisting the covers, knees bent open as Mars Kinnunen devours me. His beard tickles, but I’m not here to complain. I can’t focus on that when he’s fucking me so good with that powerful tongue. He doesn’t stop until I’m crying out again, legs shaking, body bowing on the bed around his face in a half-curl.

“Oh my god,” I pant, flopping back onto the bed as he lifts his face away. I take a few deep breaths, my whole body humming.

He’s on his elbows between my legs, looking at me like he’s starving. “I’m just getting started, Rakas.”

With a dizzy smile, I stretch out on the bed. “Show me.”

Ilmari growls, crawling up my body to reach my mouth. We kiss, our tongues teasing as I taste my sweetness on his lips. I love the feel of his weight pressed on top of me, my hips cradling him as his thick cock grinds against my bare pussy. I rake my nails down his nape and across his shoulders, as he arches into me.

“Fuck yes,” I pant, shifting my hips under him. “Mars, you feel so good—”

His right hand slips around my thigh to spread me open and then he’s shoving his huge cock back inside me, burying himself to the hilt. I moan, clinging to him as he begins to pump with his hips, hammering me into the bed.

“Don’t stop,” I beg. “God, you’re so deep. Please don’t stop—”

He grunts, dropping his face to the crook of my neck as we move together. My hands hold to his shoulders. I arch back, letting the deep pressure of his fullness bring me back to the edge of ecstasy. Then his hand slips between us and he starts working my clit. “Come again,” he growls.

“I’m so close—”

He pounds into me, shifting his angle by lifting my left leg. “Take me, Rakas. Come all over my cock again. Need to feel it.”

My orgasm spirals tighter. I feel it ready to break like waves crashing on rocks. “I’m right there—”

“Come for me,” he commands. “Oot niin timmi, Rakas. So tight. Come.”

“Come with me,” I moan, hips writhing as he works my clit, pressing down with his thumb. “Oh god—” I cry out, my whole body spasming with a heavy orgasm. My cunt squeezes him as tight as it can, pulsing with my release over and over. It’s all I can do to hold on, stars flashing in my vision.

“Fuck—” His tempo hitches as he slams into me and holds me on that edge, his own release filling me. He groans, burying his face back at my shoulder, his massive body shuddering on top of me.

I float downward, my entire body boneless. I sigh, my hands smoothing over his broad shoulders, my fingers brushing the black ink trailing up his neck—the delicate feathers of a raven’s wing.

With a grunt, he pulls out of me and slips down the bed. “Spread your legs,” he growls. “Show me, Rakas.”

“Mars,” I pant, lifting up on my elbows. I watch Ilmari gaze at my spent pussy with such longing in his eyes.

“So beautiful.” He peppers my inner thigh with kisses, his beard bristling against my sensitive skin. His hand smooths over my bare pussy, settling just over my pubic bone. “Squeeze for me, Rakas. Show me how well you’ve taken me.”

I fight the racing of my heart as I squeeze the muscles of my dick-drunk pussy. At the same time, Ilmari presses down gently, just above my pubic bone. “Ilmari,” I whimper, gasping as I feel his warm cum leaking out of me. It’s obscene and dirty and so fucking hot. His gaze heats and I can’t help but tease. “Like what you see, baby?”

He’s speechless, his fingers dipping into the mess between my legs, pumping it back into my quivering pussy. “You’re dripping, Rakas.”

“It’s yours,” I say on a sigh, stretching out on the bed.

It turns out my quiet goalie has a breeding kink, and I couldn’t be happier. If he likes me dripping after one round, I can only imagine how he’d feel seeing me used by three men at once. I don’t bother fighting my well-satisfied smile. Maybe there’s hope for him yet.

“Roll over,” he says, breaking through the happy pink bubble of my thoughts of a four-way lovefest.

“Hmm?”

“Hands and knees, Rakas.”

I let out a little laugh, my breasts jiggling as I glance up at him. He’s already shifting off the bed to stand. “Are you serious? You don’t need a little breather?” My gaze follows down the center line of his chest to where his hand is slowly pumping his hard cock.

Oh, sweet heavens.

“Do I look serious?” he says, his face a grim mask of determination. “We’re not done. Edge of the bed. Hands and knees. Now.”