“You’re so pretty like this,” I groan, dragging a hand down his back.
“You’re not supposed to be this hot when you’re injured,” he whines.
“Guess you’ll have to marry me harder.”
He laughs shaky and wrecked, and leans down to kiss me again, riding me through the pain and into the fire all over again.
“Pup,” I groan, voice barely holding, “you’re close, aren’t you?”
Elias whines above me, thighs trembling, his rhythm stuttering with every drag of friction. His hands clutch my chest, his forehead resting against mine, and he nods once—shaky and desperate. “Yeah— fuck—sir— I’m gonna—”
I cup his face, fingers spreading over his jaw, my thumbs wiping the sweat off his cheekbones. I hold him steady, make him look at me, see me.“Come for me.”My voice is wrecked, low, commanding.“Be good, pup. Show me how sweet you are when you break.”
He sobs, eyes rolling back as his hips jerk once, twice, and then he shatters. “Damian—!” His whole body arches, every muscle straining as he comes so hard he nearly blacks out.
I don’t stop touching him. Don’t stop praising. “That’s it, baby. Good fucking boy. Just like that. You’re perfect, Elias, so perfect for me, you take me so good—look at you—mine.”
He collapses against me, still twitching around my cock, body boneless, gasping like he’s just finished running for his life.
I hold him close, stroke his back, whisper into his sweat-drenched curls. “My boy. My captain. My fiancé.”
Elias whines into my throat, muffled and soaked with need.“Please…”he whimpers. “Please let me make you come, sir—need to taste it, need to feel you… please—”
I groan, already throbbing inside him, already so close it hurts. His hips twitch once and I hiss, grip tightening on his waist. “You’re gonna kill me,” I breathe, eyes half-lidded. “You’ll fucking kill me, pup.”
He pulls back enough to flash that wrecked, shining grin—feral, eyes wild with devotion—and slinks down my chest. “Then die happy,” he whispers, and slides off me slow.
I growl, God, the drag of him as I slip free, the slick sound of his orgasm still dripping between us—it’s filthy, perfect, and then he’s on his knees between mine again, mouth already open. He looks up once, curls in his face, lips swollen. “Let me.”
I nod and he wraps one hand around me—too warm, too tight—and then sucks me in clearly trying to unmake me.
“Fuuuck— Elias—goddamn good boy—” I gasp, hand flying to his curls, gripping tight.
He moans around me, takes me deeper. His tongue is wicked. His mouth is heaven. He lets me guide him, lets me fuck into that warmth with shallow, aching thrusts, whimpering when I twitch on his tongue.
“That’s it, pup—take it—fuck, just like that—so proud of you—” I come with a groan so deep it rattles the bedframe, spilling down his throat as he swallows every drop.
Elias pulls off with a gasp, licking his lips, eyes still glazed. I tug him up, crash him into my chest, and kiss him slow and sweet and filthy, my tongue dragging over his, tasting myself on his tongue.
I growl into his mouth, dragging him closer, chest to chest, tangled and flushed and still soaked in sweat. "I love you, Elias Nathaniel Kade."
His whole body jerks. He gasps, then moans, loud and wrecked, eyes blown wide, mouth open, legs tightening around me. His head snaps back enough to look at me, pupils glassy, throat working like he’s trying to speak but can’t. “You—” he whimpers. “You never—”
“I do now.” I kiss his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his lips. “Because you’re mine. And I’ll say it again, baby.”
I trail my fingers down his spine, over the curve of his ass, up his thigh slow and grounding. “I love you, Elias Nathaniel Kade.”
He shudders. “Say it again,” he whispers, voice breaking. “Please.”
I whisper it into his mouth. Into his skin. Into the heart of him. “I love you, Elias Nathaniel Kade.”
He’s trembling now, clinging to me, whimpering. And I’d do it again. Every day for the rest of our lives.
The kiss is everywhere. Center ice. Big screen. Billboard. Fucking bus stop. I even saw it on a coffee sleeve once.
And not just any kiss.Thekiss. The one where I dropped the goddamn Stanley Cup like a hot potato because my man was down on one knee with a ring. And the second I realized what was happening, I tackled him. On ice. In full gear. Kissed him like the cameras didn’t exist.
Apparently, it was photogenic. Now it’s plastered across all of Ravensburg like a wedding invite from hell. And I’m not even mad. It was the best kiss of my life. Still is.
