Page 111 of Full Body Hit, Part 1

He knew that tone. It was Daddy, and Daddy was always right, always did things to make Chase feel good.

He mewled as he raised up onto his knees, every inch of him shaking, and then the cock was out of him.

“O-oh,” he gasped. It’d been too much before, but now he was so, so empty. “Daddy?”

“I know, baby. Remember I told you to leave a plug nearby? It’s right there on the bed. Use that.”

Relief washed over Chase. He forced his sore arms to reach for the plug, catching it in slippery fingers. “I can put it in?” he checked.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Chase trembled as the toy slid into his loose hole. It wasn’t too big, especially with how stretched out he was, but it was enough to clench around, enough not to feel so hollow.

“Well done, baby. One more thing, okay? Grab your phone. That’s it. And now get on the bed.”

Chase crawled onto the mattress, getting under the sheets when Aunix told him to, grabbing Joey and cuddling him close. That had definitely been more than one thing, but he’d forgive Aunix for the misrepresentation.

“How’re you feeling?” Aunix asked, voice low and soft.

“So good. Tired. Sore. Wish you were here, Daddy.”

“Me too. So much. That was so amazing. Can’t believe you took it all like that.”

“Yeah? Did good?”

“So fucking good. The fucking best.”

Chase blinked his eyes open. “Wait. Did you come? I didn’t—”

A laugh cut him off. “Baby, I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard, and you weren’t even here. You don’t need to worry about that. Just rest up now, okay? I’ll be here after your nap.”

Chase relaxed. “M’kay. G’night, Daddy. You’re so good to me. No one has ever been this good to me…”

There was a pause. Chase had no idea how long it lasted as he slipped into sleep. From the other side of wakefulness, he heard one last thing.

“You deserve every single thing in this world…and I’m going to make sure you get it.”

***

By the first week of December, time was folding in on itself—Chase felt like he’d been in the NHL forever and like everything was still frighteningly new.

He’d managed to suture the bleeding disaster that had been the first month. In the twenty-five games he’d played since the beginning of the season, he’d scored six goals, which was pretty fucking good for a rookie.

The problem was that he had a miserable three assists, which was just fucking weird. Nobody in the history of hockey had ever scored more goals than assists.

“Um…I don’t think that’s right,” Noah piped up as Chase whined to Sammy. They were walking into the arena together for a game, a happy coincidence that they’d reached the parking lot at the same time.

Chase huffed. “Ok, I’m not talking about the, like, twenty players in history that have managed more goals than assists. The normal thing to do is to get more assists.”

“Yeah, but no one ever complained of scoring too many goals,” Noah pointed out, insistent in being logical and not just letting Chase vent.

“I’m not complaining about having too many goals, I’m complaining about not having enough assists. Big difference. It’s selfish.”

Sammy ruffled his hair. “Dude, you’re not selfish. You’re learning a new system and a new team. I’m gonna make a wild suggestion, though.”

Chase blinked at him with big eyes.

“Chill the fuck out.”