I thrust slow, deep, merciless, every curl dragging another broken yessir from his throat. Every promise carved deeperinto his body. Every whimper proof that I’ve got him exactly where I want him.
“You’ll give me everything,” I growl, low against his ear. “On the ice, off the ice, in this bed—everywhere. Won’t you?”
“Yes, Captain,” Elias moans. “Everything. I’ll give you everything.”
And only then—only after he’s said it enough times his voice is gone—do I drive faster. Harder. Opening him, stretching him, wrecking him just enough to make him shake.
He’s right there. Shaking. Trembling.
So I reward him.
My palm grinds against him, slow and deliberate, until he’s clawing uselessly at the sheets, every muscle in his body jerking.
“Come for me, pup,” I order. “Show me how good you are.”
He shatters.
The sound he makes is broken, strangled, loud enough to rattle the walls. Hot spurts hit the sheets under him, his thighs trembling, his back bowing so hard I have to pin him down by the nape just to keep him from snapping in two.
“Good boy,” I drag every last drop out of him until he’s nothing but a wrecked, sobbing mess under my hand.
When he finally collapses, boneless, sweat-soaked, his body convulsing around my fingers, I let him breathe. Just for a second. Just long enough to think it’s over.
Then I rip my hand away.
The loss tears a scream out of him—raw, desperate, already begging before he knows the words are out of his mouth.
I don’t give him time to recover. My jeans hit the floor in one motion, my cock already hard and aching, dripping with need. I drag the head across his ass once, slow, filthy, just to hear him gasp again.
“You wanted this?” I snarl, hands heavy on his hips.
“Yes,” he whimpers. “Please—Captain—”
“Then take it.”
I slam into him. One brutal thrust, burying myself to the hilt, splitting him open around me like he was built for it. His scream breaks high and sharp, his body convulsing, his throat raw with the sound of it.
I rumble low, my grip bruising his hips as I drag him back onto me, deep, deeper, relentless.
“That’s right,” I snarl, hips snapping harder. “Take your captain’s cock.”
And he does. Screaming. Shaking.
He’s screaming into the sheets, raw and wrecked, and I don’t let up. My hips brutal, every thrust a warning and a promise. His body clenches, milks me like he was made to take it.
I lean down, mouth at his ear, teeth scraping. “Keep mouthing off in that locker room, pup,” I snarl, grinding deep enough to make him choke on the sound. “And I’ll bend you over the goddamn benches next time. Let the whole team see you crawl.”
He gasps, his hands clawing at the sheets like they’ll save him. His ass jerks back against me like the idea makes him harder.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I rasp, hips snapping harder. “Every single one of them watching while I fuck you open. Hollywood with his goddamn smirk, Petrov stone-faced, Brooks crying in the corner.”
“Fuck—” he sobs, his body undone.
“Say it,” I growl, hand locking on the back of his neck, pinning him down as I ruin him. “Tell me you’d take my cock in front of all of them.”
“Yes,” he wails, desperate. “I’d take it—I’d take you anywhere—fuck, I don’t care, let them see—just don’t stop—”
My hips slam crueler, faster, until his moans break into screams, his body shaking so hard the bed groans under us. He’s ruined already, sweat-soaked and sobbing, but he still begs for more.
