The Pucking Wrong Number: A Hockey Romance (The Pucking Wrong Series Book 1)
The Pucking Wrong Number: Epilogue 1

I could feel him watching me. He always was.

I pretended not to notice him as I walked across SMU’s campus, the college I’d mysteriously got accepted to not long after marrying Lincoln.

The college where I was officially majoring in English.

I was famous here because of him, but Lincoln was always happy to make sure that everyone knew just how off-limits I was, for anyone thinking they’d make a move.

It still blew me away how jealous he got—not because I thought it was annoying, but because, how could I even be able to see any other man, when he existed.

I was walking down a hallway when, all of a sudden, I was pulled into an empty classroom.

“You’re playing with me,” he growled as he pushed me against the wall, his voice a rough whisper that sent shivers down my spine. His fingers skimmed along the bottom of my skirt, and I struggled to stay composed, my thighs clenching together in a futile attempt to contain the arousal rapidly building between my legs.

There was a crowd walking by the classroom right then; I could hear the din of their voices. Anyone could walk in.

I was sure it would be quite the shock to replace Lincoln Daniels, NHL superstar, fucking his wife against the wall.

But that only made the moment all the more thrilling.

Lincoln’s hand pushed my skirt up, brushing up my inner thighs teasingly before he slipped under my drenched thong. I gasped as he entered me with a single finger.

‘You’re so wet for me. You’re such a good girl,’ he muttered, those words sending waves of desire coursing through my body. I moaned in frustration when he wouldn’t give me more, my need for him growing with every passing moment.

Suddenly, he withdrew his hand, and I whined in protest, my eyes glued to his face as he leaned in close.

‘Do you want to come for me, sweetheart?’ he murmured, his lips brushing against my pulse. ‘Because I’m dying to taste that sweet pussy.”

Without a second thought, he sank to his knees. I watched with heavy lidded eyes as he tore away my panties, his eyes locked on mine, and then his mouth was on me, his tongue darting out to lick and suck at my clit with skilled precision.

The sounds that spilled from him were primal and raw, and I was dripping. My leg hitched up onto his shoulder as I thrust my hips forward, fucking his face, desperate for more of him. He hungrily licked through my folds, everywhere, obscene and worshipful all at once.

My orgasm was building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until I thought I would burst.

And then it hit me, brutal and furious, sending me spiraling into a frenzy of pleasure that left me gasping and trembling against the wall. Lincoln’s mouth stayed on me, his fingers slipping inside and curling upwards to stroke that perfect spot deep inside. I cried out in ecstasy as he brought me to the brink again and again, my body shaking and quivering under his expert touch.

Finally, when I was about to collapse, he stood and spun me around, pushing me forward so that my hands were on the wall and my ass was exposed to him.

‘Please,’ I whimpered, desperate for him as I always was.

He growled in response, his eyes smoldering with a possessive heat that set my body ablaze.

‘Spread your legs,’ he commanded, and I obeyed without question, watching him over my shoulder, dying over his beauty.

He pulled his sweatpants down and I licked my lips as he jerked his hand up and down his hard, perfect dick before rubbing it through my folds, torturing me with every slow pass. He bit down on his plush lower lip as he grabbed and squeezed my ass.

And then he pushed inside, pounding into me with a fierce intensity that left me breathless and begging for more. I could feel him everywhere, his hands on my hips, his chest pressed against my back, his teeth nipping at my skin as he claimed me over and over. It was wild and raw and untamed, a perfect expression of our obsession for each other.

His hand covered my mouth as I came, muffling my scream even as his groan filled the room.

We finally collapsed against the wall in a sweaty, panting heap. My golden god immediately slipped a hand between my legs, and pushed his cum inside me insistently, his fingers massaging me gently as he licked drops of sweat off my neck.

“Tell me you love me, dream girl,” he demanded.

And I did.

Of course.

Although I loved it when he made me tell him too.