Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
KOEN
My chest is still heaving with the force of my release as I ask myself if that really happened. Rubbing my wrists, I glance down to see they’re not red at all. The ropes are gone as if by magic, but they were so soft against my skin.
I liked them, and I’m typically terrified of being caught unawares. Shaking my head at how odd I feel, I get up and shove my pants to the ground to shower. I still feel fuzzy after the orgasm, and I hate that feeling.
Walking to the bathroom, I take a quick shower, brush my teeth while naked, and come out to find a new pair of sweatpants waiting for me. Confused by how quiet two alphas as large as they are can be, I get dressed and choose to wear the sweatshirt this time.
Even though I can’t smell Skylar on them, I can tell they belong to him. Otherwise, I’d be swimming in these clothes. Blowing out a breath, I tell myself to get it together and pad downstairs in my bare feet.
“In the kitchen!” Skylar calls out. Whatever he’s making smells amazing, and I walk tentatively toward his voice.
I’m not sure what I’m expecting, but finding him plating food while Rhodes balances on six inch heels while naked isn’t it. The goalie’s hands are tied over his head to a hook hanging from the ceiling, and I don’t know where to look first.
“He’s being punished,” Skylar says simply, placing a plate at the island and gesturing for me to sit.
Picking up a crop, he drags it down Rhodes’s cock, pulling a whimper from him as I watch wide eyed. More precum slides down his shaft, and I find my mouth watering for more than just food. Cheeks flaming, I pull my attention away from them to pick up my fork and take a bite of my omelette.
There’s spinach, some kind of meat and cheese inside of it and I groan as the flavors hit my tastebuds. Fuck, that’s good.
The meat is chorizo, and the cheese may be brie, but I can’t tell for sure. Whatever it is, I take another bite, which is punctuated by another smack of the crop. Glancing over, I turn so I can watch Skylar and Rhodes.
“Doesn’t the omelette look good?” Skylar coos. “Are you hungry, or are you full of cum?”
My lips twist as I eat some more, making sure to fully enjoy the bite. Rhodes groans as he watches me, and his cock jumps up as his precum begins to drip toward the floor.
I have to say his body is really impressive, which is another reason I try hard to get in and out of the locker room. I don’t want to be seen paying too much attention to him. His head is big enough as it is.
Both of them are.
“I’m a whore for cum, but I’m also hungry,” Rhodes admits, licking his thick lips. “Share, Koen.”
“No,” I reply, enjoying his scandalized expression as he pouts. “Stay out of my bedroom.”
“Don’t get crazy now,” Skylar chuckles, sliding the crop underneath Rhodes’ knot.
The alpha stiffens as he gasps, waiting for the next blow. Instead, Skylar lulls him into a false sense of security as he strokes him with the supple leather, and I can’t stop watching them as I eat.
This is the best and oddest entertainment I’ve ever had.
“I already ate,” Sky says with a wicked grin. “You’ll have to share, Koen.”
“It’s so good though,” I complain. “Coming worked up an appetite.”
“It tasted so good,” Rhodes groans. “There was so much of it too. It’s going to be impossible not to sneak into your room if I know you’re not taking care of yourself.”
“Orgasms are self care now?” I ask, deciding to offer him my last bite. Standing I have to reach a bit since he’s so tall on the heels and he can’t lean down.
Rhodes groans happily as he takes the bite, chewing happily, as his hips move from side to side in some kind of dance. It also makes his cock bounce slightly as well. As soon as he swallows, Skylar strikes out, making him scream.
“Yes, orgasms are considered self care. A house rule is that you have to come every day whether it’s down our throats or by your own hand,” Skylar says.
“You’re making this up on the fly, aren’t you?” I ask, picking up the plate to wash it in the sink.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Skylar says. “You should ask me about my punishments.”
“I’m watching one of them,” I say with a smirk as I put the dish and fork in the strainer after washing it.
I’m more relaxed than I should be. I don’t know why, but at least I’m not the one in high heels being hit with a crop.
“Hmm. This is my punishment,” Rhodes says. “Sky is always very inventive with them. Fuck, I really need to come.”
“I bet that I can make you come with just the crop,” Skylar says, smirking. “As far as the rules, all new roommates need ground rules, don’t you think?”
“Snuggling my dick while I’m sleeping doesn’t make the cut, I gather?” I ask.
“Nope. There’s a lot I have control of, but dick snuggles aren’t one of them,” he says. “I can humiliate him for it, though.”
This is one of the oddest mornings of my entire life. Glancing at the time, I see that we have to be at practice in half an hour. Fuck. I definitely want to watch Rhodes suffer a bit more.
“Well go on then,” I say, adopting a bored tone. I can go to practice in what I’m wearing, even if I may need to borrow some socks.
I forget periodically that I have nothing to my name, and it’s jarring each time.
“Bossy boys get tied up later,” Skylar growls, dragging the crop up the underside of Rhodes’ cock as he groans.
The hit is on the crown of his shaft, and Rhodes screams as he shudders. His lids drop to half mast and he almost appears lazy as he hangs from his bonds. His hips are tense, and he’s struggling hard not to thrust forward.
“Such a good boy, Rhodes. Don’t come until I say,” Skylar reminds him.
“Yes, Daddy,” he sighs.
“He’s going to play really well after this,” Skylar murmurs, slapping him with the crop several times until Rhodes is fucking begging for mercy.
My dick leaks slick as I watch, and I whimper when Skylar finally gives Rhodes permission to come. I have to pinch my cock head to keep myself from spilling along with him, and I’m breathing hard as I watch the ropes of cum hit the kitchen floor.
I’ll never see meals here the same way.
“Is this how you train our goalie to perform well?” I rasp, watching Rhodes' red face as he sucks in oxygen.
“Are you mine, Little Viking?” Rhodes asks. “You just have to say the word for my bite.”
“Wait what?”
I’m flustered as I walk through the kitchen, and my foot slides as I slip on the puddle of cum.
“Are you okay?” Skylar asks, both amused and concerned as he watches me catch myself.
“Pretend I didn’t almost just bust my ass on a load of cum,” I mutter, walking out of the kitchen.
“That’s a tall order, Captain!” Skylar calls after me as my cheeks burn with embarrassment.
I am so out of my league here.
Rhodes may be completely ready for practice today, but it takes me a lot to be able to focus. I fuck up often during it, and my teammates keep glancing at me funny because this isn’t normal for me.
“Hey, is this about your apartment?” Olsson asks after he spits out his mouth guard.
We’re practicing shooting our shots into the net, and it’s the only thing mindless enough to settle me as I hit the blade of my stick against the puck. It sinks perfectly into the net, and I give a jerky nod.
“I lost everything,” I mutter, shooting again as a puck magically appears in front of me.
Okay, there’s someone pushing them my way, so it’s not really magic. It pulls some of the mundane energy out of it by pretending though.
“Sorry, man,” he sighs. “You’re safer with Skylar and Rhodes though. They like you.”
My lips purse as I hit the puck harder than usual and it pings off the edge of the tight corner.
“Why is everyone so interested in my sex life?” I grumble.
“Because you’re wound up too tightly,” Olsson grins. “You’d be much happier if you were being railed every night.”
“God, why does my asshole need to be impaled regularly to play hockey?” I ask louder than necessary.
There’s inappropriate snorts and laughter around me and I blow out a breath. Fuck, I need to get my shit together.
“Bag skating, let’s go!” Coach yells, making us all look at him in surprise. “You all need to be clear tonight, and you’re gossiping like teens. Move!”
Groaning, we all push ourselves into skating the rink from end to end until all we can think of is if we’ll be able to take our next breath. Our coach isn’t wrong, he not only made his point, but now we’re finally in that exhausted head space where only hockey exists.
“Go home, take a nap, work out that soreness and be ready for tonight’s game. Tomorrow is a free day, but I expect you all to hit some light weights and the bikes at the gym,” he says, dismissing us.
I’m too tired to care if anyone sees my cock, and it’s clear that Rhodes is going to take advantage of me whenever possible. Again, I should be pissed off about this, yet I can’t call up the energy to care.
Showering feels both wonderful and painful as I have to move muscles that feel like deadweights. We’re all professionals and will be ready to hit the ice tonight, we just may all hate our lives a little more than usual.
I’m half asleep as I drag on my clothing, and the anxiety I usually feel in the locker room lessens to almost nothing. I’m simply too tired to give a shit about being naked in front of Rhodes and Skylar.
The drive is a fast one now that I live closer to the practice rink, and I force my feet to move to the front door. Fuck, I don’t have a key. Do I just ring the doorbell? Rhodes opens the door before I can get too into my head about it and I grunt out a response.
His grin tells me that he’s not sure if what I said was a thank you or if I told him to fuck off. Frankly, I’m not sure either at this point.
I whimper at the sight of the stairs as I walk toward them, and Rhodes takes pity on me. Chasing after me, he lifts me up to begin walking up the stairs.
“How are you not dead?” I groan, burying my face in his throat. I still can’t smell him, but his skin is warm and feels good.
“Thick thighs save lives and biscuits from crowding my goddamned crease,” he says, chuckling deeply. “Stop smelling me, weirdo. You know you won’t be able to. Stop altering your body with that fucking cream.”
“I can’t. I’m better able to focus if I’m not bombarded by alpha scents,” I mumble.
“Excuses,” Rhodes mutters, walking me into a room.
“This isn’t my room,” I complain as I’m launched into a bed. “I don’t even have a suit for tonight.”
“Edna is making sure you have what you need tonight. Go to sleep,” he says, pulling off his sweatpants and hoodie to crawl into the bed. “You’re in your alphas’ bed.”
“Not mine,” I mumble, cuddling the nearest pillow as I bury my head into it.
The weight of a heavy thigh anchors my thighs to the bed, and I’m glad I went to the bathroom earlier at the rink. There’s no way I’m getting to again.
Skylar enters the room next, but I’m already drifting off into a deep sleep.