Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
Grady
The puck drops, and the arena erupts, but my focus isn’t on the ice. It’s on the box above it, where the friends and family sit. My eyes zero in on Viv, her blond hair catching the glow of the arena lights, her energy spilling out as she chats with Knova Hale. She’s animated, laughing, the kind of laugh that makes you want to lean in closer, like she’s telling the best secret in the world.
“Grady!” Ranger’s voice slices through the noise. “Line change?”
“Right.” I wave the second line over the boards, trying to wrench my focus back to the game. Beck’s already flying down the left wing, with a veteran winger trailing behind, but even as I shout directions, my gaze flicks back up.
It’s ridiculous. I know it is. I’m supposed to be locked in, but there she is, completely oblivious to the fact that she’s throwing me off my game. She’s not even watching me—she’s here for her dad, for her brother, for the moment.
The play shifts, and the guys drive the puck deep into their zone. The crowd is wild, the energy electric. But all I can think about is how Viv manages to make everything else feel like background noise.
Midway through the second period, the game’s tied, and the Redhawks are grinding us down. I should be focused, but my head’s a mess. Every shift feels disjointed like we’re playing their game instead of ours.
“Beck, win this faceoff!” I yell, gripping the edge of the boards. He nods and lines up, but my gaze strays—again—up to the friends and family box. Viv’s standing now, clapping and grinning, leaning toward Knova to share some inside joke. She’s got this spark, this infectious energy that pulls at me like a riptide. It’s maddening.
“Grady!” Ranger growls beside me. “You seeing this forecheck?”
I force myself to look back. “Yeah, yeah. Line change. Abbott, get your ass in position!” My voice is sharp, but Viktor doesn’t flinch. He races to the boards, battling for the puck. It’s a decent effort, but my frustration boils over when the Redhawks gain control anyway.
“Move your feet!” I snap, slamming my palm on the boards.
The whistle blows, a merciful pause in the chaos, but my pulse doesn’t slow. The Redhawks score late in the third, tying the game, and the tension on the bench spikes. The players lean forward, chests heaving, eyes locked on the ice as if sheer determination will push the puck back into their favor. I pace behind them, barking orders. “Stay sharp! Every shift counts now. No mistakes.”
The energy surges as the guys dig deep. Knight battles in the corner, shoving off two defenders before slipping the puck to Viktor, who threads it to Tristan in front of the net. The arena erupts as Tristan buries it, the goal horn blaring loud enough to rattle the boards.
The final seconds drag as the Redhawks pull their goalie, swarming the zone. “Clear it!” I shout, my voice raw as Viktor slaps the puck down the ice, just wide of the empty net. The buzzer sounds, and the crowd explodes.
Victory.
The guys leap over the boards to hug Owen, helmets flying, and the bench is alive with celebration. But my focus drifts upward. Viv’s on her feet, clapping and cheering, her face lit with pure joy.
My chest tightens. It’s irrational, I know. Her excitement doesn’t have anything to do with me. It’s her brother, her family. But something about it gnaws at me, this strange, unshakable ache. I force myself to look away, jaw set. This win is ours, but all I can think about is how much I want to claim this woman as mine.
Tonight. Tomorrow.
Forever.
The crowd is going nuts. That’s when I see the number on Viv’s jersey, right under the name Abbott.
It’s Viktor’s jersey.
For some reason, this pisses me all the way off. I know I’m being irrational. I mean, come on, it’s her brother’s jersey. It’s her own damn name.
But it’s also her father’s name. Her father’s team colors. And I wish more than anything she’d be up there wearing my old number, cheering for me, back when I was a player, when I was one of the top forwards in the NHL.
It’s not like I have a Venom jersey with my name on it for sale in the pro shop. I’m the coach, for Christ’s sake.
I don’t know what to call this feeling. It’s not quite jealousy. It’s almost like I’m nostalgic for a time that never existed. I turn away and head off the ice with the team, carried by the applause from the audience.
I text Viv.
Grady : Come to my place after you leave. I’m skipping the Puck Drop.
I don’t wait for her answer. I already had plans for us tonight, but now I’ve got an added element in mind.
All I have to do is figure out which box I left it in.
* * *
By the time Viv shows up at my front door, I’m already a man on the edge. The ropes are coiled neatly in the bedroom, the candles casting soft, golden light across the space I prepared just for her. Every detail has been deliberate—like this is a ceremony, not just a night. It’s more like a claiming. I want to worship her. Every single inch. The sound of her footsteps on the stairs pulls the air from my lungs, leaving me weightless and anchored all at once. She doesn’t knock. She never does. And somehow, that simple familiarity undoes me.
I’ve planned this evening down to the smallest touch, the kind of care a man puts into something he might never deserve but aches to get right. Viv’s voice lingers in my mind, the teasing challenge she threw my way during her last visit, sparking the fire that’s been burning ever since. So tonight isn’t just about tying her—it’s about showing her what she means to me, even if the words won’t come.
She steps into the room with a smile on her face, still wearing that damn Abbott jersey. Her legs look incredible in skinny jeans, but I can’t stop staring at that shirt as she dumps her purse on the dresser.
“Someone’s eager tonight,” she teases.
I move up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. She immediately leans back against me, fitting her body perfectly against mine. I kiss the back of her neck. “Surely I’m not the only one?”
“Touché. Especially since I’ve been very good and haven’t touched myself since our little interlude at the arena.”
“Really?” I slip one hand under the hem of her shirt. “I lack your self-restraint.”
“Really.” She turns her head to face me. Her nipples are already hard beneath the thin material of her bra. “But since you’re apparently going to test the limits of my endurance, I figured I’d better come prepared.”
I cup her breast and give it a gentle squeeze. “I thought making you come was my job.”
Her laugh is breathless. “Corny. Dad jokes are a real mood killer.”
“Mm.” I nip her earlobe. “How do you feel about rope?”
Viv presses her hips back, rubbing her ass against my erection. “I like rope.”
“How do you feel about shibari?”
She goes still.
I pull my hand back and turn her to face me. “Hey. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, okay? That’s why I’m asking.”
“Can you, uh.” There’s a little wrinkle between her eyebrows. “Can you tell me the plan?”
“You know the plan.” I kiss her temple. “Make you come until you beg for mercy. I thought, if I tied you up, you could just… not worry about any of it. Focus on the sensations. It seemed like something you’d be into, but if you’re not, it’s fine. I’m not going to push.”
She licks her lips, the flick of her tongue making my pulse kick. “You’ve done this before?”
“No,” I admit, my voice steady, even though my heart is in my throat. “I’ve never found anyone I wanted to do it with before—until you. But I’ve been practicing.” My hands settle on her hips, grounding me as I pull back just enough to meet her gaze. “There are a surprising number of tutorials online. They’re detailed. Sexy, too.” I try for a small smile, keeping the moment light, though my chest feels tight with everything I’m not saying.
I really, really want to have this woman at my mercy. To turn the tables on her.
Viv stares up at me, her expression unreadable. “Okay.”
That single word sits between us like a weight, and I fight the urge to second-guess everything. Maybe this was too much, too soon. Maybe I misread what she wants tonight. But I won’t push her—not her. She deserves more than my ego bruising at her hesitation. I shake my head lightly, letting my hands slide up to cradle her waist. “Hey, it’s fine. No pressure. We don’t have to do this tonight.” My voice is soft but sure, and I mean it. If she’s not all in, I’d rather wait until she is. This isn’t about me—it’s about her trusting me enough to let go.
“No.” She grabs the front of my shirt. “No, you’re right. I am into the idea, but I’ve never done it before. Being in a situation where someone else is in control sounds… fuck, it sounds so hot, but I’ve never trusted anyone enough to go through with it.” Her fist eases open and she presses her palm against my chest. “But I trust you.”
“I feel like you’re always the one with the upper hand,” I murmur, my thumbs brushing slow circles against her waist. “Always in control, always ten steps ahead. And I love that about you—how strong you are, how sure. But tonight…” I pause, my voice dipping lower, thick with the weight of everything I’m holding back. “Tonight, I want you to let me take the lead. To trust me enough to let go. Let me show you what it feels like when I’m the one in control.”
“I get it.” Viv nods. “I want this. But if I change my mind—”
“Say the word, and I’ll stop. I promise.”
Viv stands on her toes to kiss me. “I know you will. How about mermaid?”
I nod. “That brings back some good memories. Mermaid it is.”
I kiss her gently, slowly, with everything I’m feeling in this moment. She trusts me. That’s hot, but it’s also… damn, it makes me want to pull her into my arms and protect her. I don’t know from what. From anything that could hurt her, I suppose. I want her to know that I’m here for her, no matter what.
I break away and step back, letting my eyes roam over her. And there’s that jersey again, with the big Venom logo splashed across the front, taunting me.
“Take it off,” I say.
Viv smirks. “I thought you liked me in Venom gear.”
“Not tonight,” I tell her. I retrieve my old jersey and pass it to her. “I want you in this. And only this.”
“And what is it, exactly?”
“One of my old game jerseys.” I press it into her hands. Her eyes widen as she holds it up by the shoulders.
“I get it. You’re claiming me as yours.” She kicks off her heels right there in the middle of my room. I start stripping, too, although I stop at my boxer briefs. I want to be undressed without being fully naked. Not yet.
Pinning me with a sultry, utterly sinful smile, Viv drops my jersey down on the bed while unbuttoning her skinny jeans. She slowly slides the denim down her thighs, turning her back to me and bending over to peel them over her feet.
Fuck me. She isn’t wearing any panties. That needy little pussy is shiny and little droplets of her arousal bead the seams of her flesh, just asking for me to sip them up. I lick my lips, almost tasting her on my tongue.
Lust swims in the depths of her eyes as she turns around and pulls her Venom jersey over her head. Fuck me again. She isn’t wearing a bra either. So, so perfect this woman is. Those full tits, just the right size to fit in my huge hands, and nipples erect and ready to be sucked and pinched. I almost reach for her but stop myself when Viv grabs my jersey and pulls it over her head, breaking me out of that sexy spell only she can cast.
With a glance over her shoulder, she climbs into the bed and kneels near the top, waiting for my next move. She gulps when I pull out the length of rope I’ve been practicing with, but I can see the peaks of her nipples through the fabric, so I’m pretty sure she’s still into it.
“Hold out your hand,” I tell her.
She does, and I run a length of rope across her palm.
“It’s soft, see?” I tell her. “I won’t go too tight, either. And I’m not going to put it places where there are a lot of nerves. If you’re uncomfortable, let me know.”
Viv’s shoulders relax. “Good,” she whispers.
I kiss her again.
I trail the rope slowly along her skin, starting from her hand and moving up her arm. I watch her eyes flicker with excitement and anticipation as I reach her shoulder, then her neck. When I touch her chin, she tilts her head to the side, inviting me to continue my exploration. As I move down her body, I can see the way the fabric of the jersey clings to her skin in certain spots, highlighting the curves that have been haunting my thoughts all night. Anxious to expose more of her, I take the jersey and pull it up around her armpits. The smell of her skin fills my nostrils as I continue my path, tracing intricate designs on her nipples and stomach.
When I reach her hips, I pause for a moment to study the way the rope contrasts against her silky skin. Then, with careful precision, I trace it down to her thighs and then back up again, exploring each curve and contour of her body. As I near her core, she shifts slightly under me, urging me forward. With great care, I run the rope over her inner thighs and through the soft folds between them. Her breath hitches as she lets out a small moan.
When I know she’s ready, I prepare to tie the rope. I start with her legs, since she seems more comfortable with that. I tie her legs so that her ankle rests against her thigh so that I can still spread her legs, but she can’t extend them. I check in with her every few seconds, sometimes verbally, sometimes by watching her face to see how she reacts. At first, Viv is visibly nervous, but I caress and massage her as I go, and once she sees that I really do have a plan, she relaxes into it. By the time I’m done with her legs, her eyes have gone glassy.
I spread her legs and lick a stripe up her already wet pussy, then grin up at her. “Still good?”
She nods.
I purse my lips. “Gonna need some words, Viv.”
“Words are hard,” she whines. “This feels… good. I don’t know, it’s like I just want to let you do… whatever. It’s kind of…” Her chest heaves, and something changes behind her eyes. “Terrifying. To… let go.”
I lean back just enough to take her in, a smug grin tugging at my lips. Viv, icy and unflappable Viv, is stammering again, her cheeks flushed, her usual sharp confidence completely shattered. And I’m the reason why. Knowing I can undo her like this, make her lose that perfect composure, sends a jolt of pride straight through me.
“Cat got your tongue, Viv?” I ask, my voice low and teasing. “Or are you just thinking about every single thing I’m planning on doing to you tonight?”
She tries to clap back, but the way her breath hitches, the way she struggles to meet my eyes—it’s enough to make me feel ten feet tall. Watching her fall apart under my hands, knowing I’m the only one who can make her like this, is a feeling I’ll never get tired of.
“I want every orgasm to belong to me from now until forever.” I’m too consumed in this moment to mention that it’s unnecessary. She’s it. The one. I’ve known it for a while now, longer than I want to admit. It’s not just the way she lights up a room or the way her laugh cuts through the noise in my head. It’s the way she sees me—the real me—and doesn’t flinch. But saying it out loud? Telling her she’s everything? That’s a whole different beast. I can’t lay that at her feet, not yet. Not when I’m still trying to figure out how a guy like me—broken, past his prime—can even deserve her.
I lean forward to plant a tender kiss on her inner thigh and suck lightly on her clit. “Is this too much?”
“No, it’s good. Really good.” Her mouth is full and red. “Please… don’t stop. I want… You’re the only person I—” She stops. Swallows. “Trust you so much, Grady.”
I flatten my tongue and lick her from her core all the way up. She tastes so good, and I wonder how I got so damn lucky. Even the first day I met her, when I helped her with her mermaid costume, I wanted to do this.
She squirms and exhales while the sweetest sounds fall from her lips. When I add a finger, she sounds even better than every fantasy I’ve ever had of this moment when I was researching online.
She gasps when I add another. “Viv, you’re so fucking wet.”
A soft moan falls from her lips, urging me on.
I latch onto her clit with my mouth and suck. Harder this time. She arches her back and curses. She’s dripping and sweet, and it’s all for me.
“I’m so close,” she warns.
Her legs tremble, and she clenches around my middle and ring fingers. She tries to squeeze her thighs together, but I push back and hold them open.
“I know, gorgeous girl. You’re doing so good, almost there.”
“Oh, my God,” she says before clamping down. I suck her clit between my lips while my fingers curl inside her. She grips the ropes and arches into the pressure as she peaks. I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as my girl restrained like this and at my mercy. I slowly stroke her down from her orgasm.
Her gaze searches for mine and spears it. “Grady, I want more.”
Well, shit. I reach for more rope and bind her hands in front of her, not behind—I want to be able to see her face, so I plan to have her on her back tonight, and the internet says this is the best configuration for that.
Another thing practice didn’t prepare me for was the time it takes to tie these knots. I give Viv a deep, drugging kiss before I loop the rope, and pull it snug. Test the tension. Secure it with a square knot. Then before moving on, I snake my way up her body to lick her nipple. Every movement is deliberate. Controlled. Designed to keep her grounded in this scene I’m creating. My focus is razor-sharp, but Vivian? She’s melting into it. Her breathing slows. Her body softens. I wind the next length around her thigh. Cross it. Knot it. Repeat. By the time I tie off the last knot, she’s smiling, her eyes half-lidded, blissed-out and glowing. That’s when I put my head between her legs for one long, leisurely lick.
“Still good?” I ask.
She nods again, almost dreamily.
I reach for my little pile of toys, pre-washed and ready for use. Viv’s pupils expand as I hold up the wand. I’m told that fully charged, these things can last for hours, and you bet your ass I left it plugged in overnight. I turn it on to the lowest setting and press it to the peak of one nipple.
Vivian sighs and adjusts her shoulders, seeking more sensation. I smile to myself as I press it to the other nipple, then trail the vibrating bulb down her belly, across her spread thighs, circling closer and closer to her pussy before finally turning it off.
She lifts her head to glare at me. “You’d better not be edging me again,” she complains. “You made promises, mister.”
“Me? Never.” I pluck a bottle of warming lube from the bedside drawer and squeeze a bit into my hand. When I’m ready, I get comfortable between her thighs, with my feet dangling off the edge of the bed. I’m going to be here for a while.
I take my time circling her clit, not quite touching her where she needs it most. When I’m done, I reach for the wand again and turn it back to low. This time, I press it to her swollen flesh, circling and changing angles based on her cries and movements.
I rest my cheek against the inside of her thigh and press a kiss there.
Her thigh jerks as she digs her heels into the mattress. From this angle, I can see her body responding, tightening around nothing. My dick, already at attention, throbs. I love having her like this, spread out before me, totally exposed.
“That was faster than I expected,” I observe, turning off the wand.
“Yeah, because I’ve been celibate all week.” Viv’s gaze searches for mine, her expression practically begging for more. “I hope you’ve got more in mind, because those two barely counted.”
I chuckle as I fish around the pile until I find what I’m looking for, then hold the dildo up for inspection.
Viv bites her lip, and I laugh at how poorly she hides her excitement. “I thought your dick was the only one allowed in my pussy?” She rolls her eyes.
“Technically, this is mine. I paid good money for it.” I rub it between her legs, then ease the tip inside her. She gasps in surprise when I turn it on to its lowest vibration setting.
I can’t feel her like I could if it was me inside her—although my aching erection can certainly imagine how it will feel—so I take my time working it into her with short thrusts until it’s seated inside her. My left hand drifts lower, reaching inside my boxer briefs. As she watches me, I stroke myself beneath the fabric, imagining it’s Viv’s mouth wrapped around me instead of my own hand. The thought alone is enough to make me leak pre-cum. I stroke again with my right hand until the muscles of her thighs start twitching and jumping, and she lets her eyes flutter closed.
Which means that when I reach for the wand again, she doesn’t see it coming.
“Oh, fuck!” she howls when I press the vibrator to her clit again. I have to adjust my position so that I can use both hands, which is a problem at first. After some maneuvering, I end up sitting upright and tugging her against me so that her ass is in my lap, rubbing against my underwear and leaking dick beneath.
There’s just enough sensation that I can feel my mind going pleasantly fuzzy, but I’m clearheaded enough to enjoy the sight of Viv bucking and moaning before me, crying out as I hold her steady while teasing her clit with the wand.
It takes her a little longer to come the third time, and when she does, I get the full view of her head rolling back, her lips parting, her back bowing as she cries my name.
“Good girl,” I tell her, massaging her thigh. “That’s right, let go. Give it to me.”
She’s still gasping when I turn both vibrators up to the next setting. No reprieve this time. If she’s going to scold me for edging her, I’m going to be merciless.
“Grady,” Viv pants. “I’m not… I can’t…”
“Can’t what?” I ask.
“I’m going to—I’m going to—” Her cry this time is even louder. Her ass presses into my lap, her leaking pussy drenching my boxer briefs. God, I could come just from this.
“Surely you’ve got more for me.” I reach up to squeeze one breast, massaging it “You’re not done already, are you, sweet girl?”
Viv doesn’t answer. Her body is tight as a bowstring. She’s so loud. She’s so wet. She’s a fucking wet dream, and she’s mine.
My jersey. My number.
My future wife.
I don’t have a plan—I don’t need one. All I know is that one way or another, she’s going to be mine, because no one else has ever made me feel like she does—like I’m whole.
I might be losing my mind just the tiniest bit as I turn both toys to their highest setting. I keep using the wand on her until her cries run into each other, one long repeat of my name, “Grady, Grady, Grady, Grady, Grady…” and then, at last, “Please.”
I toss both toys aside. Viv utters a sharp cry when I ease the toy out of her. I yank off my compression boxers, which are damp at the front with a mixture of my precum and Vivan’s repeated orgasms. I slide my fingers under one set of knots and pull, lifting Viv up and into my lap. It takes some maneuvering to guide myself inside her, but she’s so wet for me that I slide up to the hilt in one smooth move.
My hand slides to the back of her neck, guiding her gaze up to meet mine. “You know what you do to me, don’t you?” I murmur, my voice low and thick. Her breath hitches, and that slight hesitation—like she’s not sure if she wants to surrender or fight—makes my grip tighten just a little. Just enough to remind her who’s in charge tonight.
“Viv,” I say, my thumb brushing her jaw as I feel her melt under my touch, “you’re so used to being the one calling the shots. But not right now. Not with me.” I lean closer, letting the heat of my breath ghost over her ear. “Tonight, you let go. Be a good girl for me, or I’ll use even more pleasure to punish you.”
Her eyes lock with mine. “Okay, Daddy .”
That single word hits me like a freight train straight to the chest. Straight to my crotch. Daddy. My brain flatlines. Nothing exists but her, sitting on my cock, looking up at me like I’m her whole damn world. Heat surges through me, sharp and primal, and any thought of holding back goes out the window.
My strokes become erratic as I pound into her over and over. Vivian collapses against me, unable to move, as I wrap both arms around her and rut up into her. Her head is on my shoulder, her breath hot against my ear. All I can hear is her new chant, “Yes, yes, yes, right theeeeere…”
My orgasm, when it comes, is so intense that it’s almost painful. Long pulses of cum jet out of me, filling her beautiful cunt until it starts leaking out around my dick. I cling to her, breathing hard, until I feel solid enough to guide her back onto the mattress without dropping her.
“You okay, sweetheart?” I ask, barely catching my breath, smoothing the sweaty hair away from her face.
Viv only nods. Her cheeks are bright red, and her eyes are closed. Her smile is otherworldly.
As much as I want to cuddle up against her, I know I need to get these ropes off before she gets uncomfortable. With shaking hands, I undo the knots holding her arms in place. I pause with one hand resting between her breasts on the logo of my jersey.
Being here with her, every part of me feels raw and exposed, like she’s stripped away all the layers I’ve spent years building to keep the world out. We fit together so perfectly that it hurts—a sweet, aching kind of pain I didn’t think I’d feel again. My fingers trace lazy patterns on her skin, but my mind won’t stop racing. She’s everything I didn’t know I was waiting for, and the thought of her slipping through my fingers feels unbearable. I don’t deserve this, don’t deserve her, but I know I’d fight to keep her anyway. There’s a knot in my chest, tight and insistent, and I realize it’s because I’ve been holding back words that won’t stay hidden anymore.
“I love you,” I say. “I love you so much, Viv. I wish you could have been my wife back then. Back when… well, whatever. When I lost my hockey career. But this right now? I never, ever, want it to end.”
She doesn’t answer, probably because she’s half asleep after everything we just did. That’s a good thing, I guess. I wouldn’t have said those words aloud if I wasn’t an addled, post-orgasmic mess.
Thought them, yes. Said them? No way.
I hope I won’t regret it.
I reach for the next set of knots and focus on freeing her legs. Working carefully, my fingers are methodical despite the adrenaline still humming through me. The last thing I want is to rush this and ruin the moment. The ropes slide free one by one, leaving faint impressions on her skin, a map of where we’ve been tonight. I gently trace the marks with my fingers, treasuring the intimacy we’ve shared. My chest tightens at the sight. She trusted me with this, with herself, and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of that trust.
When the last tie falls away, I gently scoop her into my arms, her body warm and pliant against mine. She murmurs something I can’t quite catch, her head lolling onto my shoulder, and I smile. “Shh, I’ve got you,” I whisper.
I prepared for this—water, a blanket, and even a couple of chocolates she might roll her eyes at later. Setting her down, I grab the bottle and twist off the cap, holding it to her lips. “Drink, sweetheart,” I murmur. She stirs just enough to take a few sips before sighing contentedly.
My hand finds her waist, my thumb brushing over the soft curve of her hip. “You were so amazing for me tonight,” I say quietly, though I’m not sure she hears me. Doesn’t matter. She’s here, she’s safe, and for now, that’s all I need.