There was a darkness in her eyes, a hunger that matched my own. It was as if she could see straight through me, straight to the core of who I was. And in that moment, I knew that I was lost. Completely, utterly lost in her.
Her thumb brushed over the sensitive tip of my cock. I groaned, my hips jerking involuntarily as pleasure coursed through me. She smiled, a slow, satisfied smile that made my heart race even faster.
"You like that?" she whispered, her voice a soft purr that sent shivers down my spine.
I nodded, unable to form words, unable to do anything but feel. She continued to stroke me, her movements slow and deliberate, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from deep within me. I could feel the tension building, the pressure growing, the need for release becoming almost unbearable.
But I didn't want this to end. I didn't want to lose this connection, this moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure. So I held back, my body trembling with the effort, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
And through it all, she watched me, her eyes never leaving mine, her touch never wavering. She was in control, and I was hers to command. And in that moment, I wouldn't have had it any other way.
I groaned as she slowly lowered herself to her knees, her eyes never leaving mine. My heart pounded in my chest, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she wrapped her hand around the base of my cock. Her touch was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure through me that made my legs tremble.
She leaned forward, her lips brushing against the sensitive tip. I groaned again, my hips jerking involuntarily as she took me into her mouth. The sensation was indescribable—hot, wet, and so fucking perfect. I could feel my muscles tensing, my body responding to her touch in a way that was primal, instinctual.
I tangled my fingers in her hair, guiding her movements as she began to suck me in earnest. Her mouth was warm and wet, her tongue swirling around the head of my cock in a way that made my vision blur. I could feel the pressure building, the tension growing, the need for release becoming almost unbearable.
"Fuck," I growled, my voice low and rough. "You feel so fucking good."
She moaned again, the sound vibrating through me and sending another wave of pleasure crashing over me. I tightened my grip on her hair, pulling her closer as she took me deeper into her mouth. I could feel myself hitting the back of her throat, the sensation almost too much to bear.
"You like that, don't you?" I murmured, my voice a dark promise. "You like sucking my cock."
She moaned again, her eyes fluttering closed as she continued to work me over. I could feel myself getting closer, my muscles tensing as the pressure built. I knew I couldn't hold out much longer.
"You're going to take every drop," I growled, my voice barely above a whisper. "Every last drop."
She moaned again, her movements becoming more urgent as she sucked me harder, faster. I could feel myself getting closer, my muscles tensing as the pressure built. And then, with a final, desperate thrust, I came.
The sensation was indescribable—hot, intense, and so fucking powerful. I could feel my cock pulsing, my body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. I groaned, my fingers tightening in her hair as I emptied myself into her mouth.
She swallowed every drop, her eyes never leaving mine as she continued to suck me until I was completely spent. When she finally pulled away, I could see the satisfaction in her eyes, the knowledge that she had brought me to my knees.
I pulled her to her feet, my arms wrapping around her as I kissed her deeply. I could taste myself on her lips, the salty tang of my release mingling with the sweetness of her mouth. It was intoxicating, addictive.
"Mine," I whispered. "Mine, mine, mine."
"Yours," she breathed out.
And I was as good as gone.
Chapter 17
Mina
I tugged Nikolai’s hoodie tighter around me as I stepped into the arena, immediately hit by a blast of icy air and the wild, electric hum of anticipation. Okay, deep breath. I could do this. Totally normal to feel like I was walking into a Marvel movie set where the heroes were all skating around with shoulder pads and knives on their feet. Totally fine.
I should be used to this.
I was… kind of.
Rarely did I ever go to Mikel's games at his request, except for the special ones where family and wives were supposed to attend.
I glanced down at myself—messy bun that was also chic (check), jeans (reliable), and a tiny top that I now realized was way too breezy for a hockey rink. But at least I had his hoodie, swallowing me whole and smelling like clean laundry and pine and him. My fingers curled into the sleeves, sleeves that hung way past my hands, and I suddenly felt like a little kid dressed in her crush’s jacket… because I kind of was.
I handed my ticket to the usher, my palms a little sweaty even though the air was practically arctic. The place was massive—buzzing with fans and blaring music and snack smells that almost made me forget my nerves. Almost. I headed down the steps toward my section, my boots clunking awkwardly, my eyes darting everywhere like I was afraid I’d miss something crucial.
And then—boom. I stepped into the stands and froze. The rink was a glowing sheet of white magic under the lights, surrounded by fans already yelling and cheering and laughing. I found my seat (after definitely checking the number like five times), sat down, and just… stared.
