Chapter 42
August
It was hard being a Stanley Cup champion. Not every guy was cut out for the hard work and dedication needed to win the most sought-after title in the NHL, but August could now consider himself one of the elites.
Even though all he did was sit on the couch and cheer his team on from the other side of the country.
Jett, the asshole, had pushed Vancouver into game seven, but the Bigfoots never gave up. Dax had scored the winning goal in the last thirty seconds of the game, and if that wasn’t the biggest fuck you to his old team in Washington, August didn’t know what was.
But after the celebration had ended, and his teammates stopped showing up to visit him in the middle of the woods, August gotbored.
He had Niko and Nollan sometimes, when Niko wasn’t obsessing over his new conditioning routine, and Nollan wasn’t catching frogs in the lake, but there wasn’t a lot to do in the area.
Not on a busted knee anyway.
Which is why, when the draft came on late that summer, August was fuckinglocked in. He wanted to see who was getting the rookies, especially the eighteen-year-old who everyone was talking about: Elias Finch. The kid was a six-foot-four teenage sensation fromYarmouthof all places.
August hadn’t even known where Yarmouth was until he pulled up a map on Google and found it on the ass-end of Nova Scotia, but he didn’t care which small town the guy was from; he needed to know where he wasgoing.
And watching the draft was turning out to be a difficult task when he was restrained to the headboard in Jett and Harrison’s room with a sexy brunette bouncing on his cock.
“Quinn—I’m—”
There were very few positions they could have sex in with his busted knee, and Quinn got annoyed whenever August tried to do morethan he was allowed, so that’s why the restraints had made an appearance tonight.
Not that August was complaining because the restraints always added an extra layer of pleasure in his fucked-up brain, but that had all changed when Quinn pulled out the cock ring and said, “I’ll let you cum inside me this time. I know you’ve been asking for it.”
He had. On repeat. For weeks.
He wanted to know what it was like to be inside Quinn’s body with nothing between them. He wanted to fill him up with so much cum that it would drip down his gorgeous thighs as he wobbled to the bathroom.
He wanted a lot of things, but he could achieve none of them when it was impossible to get off, thanks to a piece of goddamn rubber.
“Still bored?” Quinn asked, giving August the feral grin that never failed to get his blood pumping south. Quinn started rolling his hips to give his legs a break from the riding, and August was so deep inside of him that he could see a bump in his stomach, just below his navel.
If August’s hands were free, he would press on that spot while Quinn fucked himself on his cock because he knew how good it would make him feel, but—
“Not bored,” August hissed through clenched teeth. “It’s been…thirty minutes, and I need to come. You’ve done it like, three times now.”
Quinn barked a laugh and patted his cheek. “Aw, my poor baby. I’m just trying to help you achieve your fantasy of making a mess inside me by using a little edging technique. Do you think you have enough saved up for me now?”
There was no way in hell August was saying no, so he nodded frantically and prayed that Quinn would be merciful. If there weren’t children sleeping upstairs, and if their injured brother-in-law wasn’t in the guest room on the other side of the house, August would be loudly begging Quinn for release. But they had to be quiet, even with the soundproofed walls and door.
Quinn twisted a finger into the skate laces knotted around August’s wrist and applied pressure until he teetered on the edge of subspace. “Be good and don’t move.”
The command locked his body in place, and Quinn smiled as he unbuckled the restraints pinning his arms. When they were free, he let Quinn guide them down onto the bed beside him so the blood would have an easier time flowing back into his fingertips.
“Grab my waist when the numbness stops,” said Quinn, pausing to check in with him before he smirked and rose onto his knees.
August moaned as his cock slipped out with a wet pop, hips bucking instinctively toward Quinn’s retreating body, but the command kept him in place. He didn’t move as Quinn reached between them and removed the wretched ring from around his cock, freeing his aching dick from its own form of restraints.
Quinn’s chuckle had shivers tingling through his skin, and August’s hands shot up, palms sliding over Quinn’s hips, fingers digging into firm muscle. He was desperate to draw Quinn back down and bury himself inside his tight ass again, but the goal was to be rewarded, not punished right now.
“Please,” August gasped, his voice strained from having to contain his moans. His cock throbbed against his belly, untouched and aching.
Quinn leaned forward, bracing one hand on August’s chest, nails scraping lightly over a nipple. “I’m going to hold myself up,” he said, grinding down—letting the cleft of his ass drag along August’s dick without allowing him to penetrate. “Just enough to give you room to thrustslowly.”
The friction was maddening, but August had enough sense to nod and give confirmation.
