Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rebel Arena, Freedom
S hay
I wince, as every single muscle in my body screams.
Aching, I rest against the shower’s wall in Rebel Arena’s state-of-the-art locker room.
Water beats against my sore shoulders.
It was a bloody intense practice.
I don’t know how many laps I ended up skating. I gave up counting after the first twenty. I may have studied astrophysics, but it was still easier to count how many times I puked.
Three.
It would have been more, but I wanted to impress D’Angelo and score as many goals as possible.
I always try my hardest.
I know how much of an incredible opportunity this season is for me.
Yet Colton’s threats unsettle me. Then I end up underperforming.
He thinks that by being a hard-ass, he’s getting the best out of his players. Maybe his methods work with some of the men like Grayson.
Grayson is fun but he acts like he’s just out of the frat house.
Possibly, he needs an arse kicking.
Yet it’s D’Angelo who is brilliant at motivating me.
A bite for each goal that marks me as his…?
Could that become official training policy? I’d also take a kiss, erotic spank, or stroke of my cock.
Perhaps, I can turn the tables and train D’Angelo this way.
I smile at the thought.
No chance.
It’s not worth the risk to my arse to try.
“Feels good?” D’Angelo’s deep voice rumbles.
“Heaven, darlin’.”
I push into the sensation of his strong fingers massaging my scalp, as he washes my hair.
It makes my whole body tingle.
I never thought that anyone would care for me like this.
D’Angelo is alert to my cues, checking in frequently with me.
I only needed to tell D’Angelo once how good it felt to be washed and then toweled dry after we shared our showers at home, and now he does it without me having to say anything.
I don’t even need to earn it.
I felt bloody embarrassed admitting to enjoying the same soft treatment as D’Angelo gives to Robyn.
Blythe told me that subs were there to be trained to take pain and give their doms pleasure.
It makes me feel itchy and wrong to expect my dom to treat me this carefully like I’m his true boyfriend.
Yet I’m not going to self-sabotage my good luck.
Not anymore.
D’Angelo’s naked body is pressed close against mine in the individual shower stall.
Half an hour ago, he led me through the empty locker room, firmly locking the door.
Being in charge of the key is another privilege of being the captain.
Right now, I’m appreciating that privilege.
The Rebel Arena’s locker room is at the end of a long, white corridor. The walls are lined with stalls above arctic blue padded benches. The players’ equipment is hung up on each stall: pads, helmets, skates, and jerseys.
It’s pervaded with the chemical scent of rubber mixed with sweat, along with the mildew stench of hockey equipment.
It’s become a home away from home with a television in the corner, surround sound, and a fridge.
The team are close enough to feel like friends.
D’Angelo treats them like family.
In the middle is a mat with the puck on flames team logo printed on it. It’s sacrosanct. No one steps on it.
You would probably get snapped with towels by each member ceremonially if you did.
D’Angelo has already snapped me with a towel on the way to the shower. My arse tingles in a delicious way.
I smile at Pulp’s Britpop anthem “Common People”, which is blasting its scathing wit through the room on the sound system.
I identified deep in my soul with this song at college: the story of a poor working class student vs the rich one, who acts like she’s slumming it by sleeping with him.
Playing “Common People” helped me to feel seen , at least as long as its wild anger played through my dorm room.
Except, D’Angelo is slowly helping me to realize I’m not that poor student any longer.
I’m no longer Blythe’s abused toy.
I’ve never been allowed to put on my playlist here before. Normally, the veterans in the team are the ones to choose the music.
D’Angelo has the first choice on game nights, followed by Atlas.
As the newbie, I’m the last to choose, which sucks because my game night playlist would be awesome.
I’ve tried to convince them that the newbie should get a go, but that only convinced Atlas to put me on shower duty for the month to make up for breaking hockey etiquette.
Now, it’s my duty to switch on all the showers after practice and warm up the water for everyone.
Sometimes, being in a team is like having an entire gang of doms.
Scary.
But it does teach you fast not to break rules like leaving your hockey tape on the floor.
Never steal anyone else’s wax.
And finally, learn how to accept being chirped relentlessly, especially about being English, young, and a twin.
Hockey players are as creative in their bantering insults as they are in their plays.
Yet tonight, D’Angelo allowed me to choose one of my favorite songs to play in the locker room as an extra reward.
It’s made me feel special and cherished.
It’s also made this harsh practice worth it.
Caught in the music and the rhythmic beat of the water against my skin, these showers have become my private world with D’Angelo.
I hope that Robyn and Eden have found their own comforting bubble this evening. I know that my twin will do his best to help Robyn escape from the trauma of the day.
He’d already planned something special.
He was going to save it until her birthday. But I suggested that Eden take Robyn out for their lunchbreak from work tomorrow, while I’m at practice again with D’Angelo.
Robyn needs to be spoiled after the shit with her dad.
She also needs to understand that she has men around her, who’ll give her everything.
What Eden plans to do tomorrow is offer her his soul.
I’m worried, but it’s my twin’s choice.
I hope that Robyn understands just how incredible a gesture what he’s going to do is from a man like my brother.
I didn’t think that I’d have as deep a connection with anyone as Eden has with Robyn.
It’s D’Angelo who has been helping me to understand that maybe one day I will.
I rest against D’Angelo’s chest in the small shower stall, trusting him to take care of me.
He moves my head to the side under the full stream of the hot water to wash out the shampoo.
I let him move me around like I’m a doll.
I look up at him tiredly, blinking water out of my eyes.
D’Angelo looks fucking gorgeous with water streaming down his chest between the line of his abs.
I lick my lips, as water pools in the V of his Adonis belt, flowing down his half hard cock.
D’Angelo looks amused. “Admiring something you like, cucciolo?”
“Just my hot boyfriend,” I enjoy replying simply to say boyfriend out loud.
It feels more real every time that I say it.
D’Angelo’s frosty eyes warm. “Your hot boyfriend who needs to reward you…?”
Instantly, I’m fully awake.
I perk up, wiping the water out of my eyes. “So, you want to sleep with…and bite… common people like me, huh?”
D’Angelo’s lips curl. “Only common people like you .”
“Good because I’m discovering that I’m more possessive than I realized.”
True.
“So am I.” D’Angelo’s soapy hands slide out of my hair and down to my balls. “Color?”
“Green.”
I whine at how good D’Angelo’s hands feel.
D’Angelo holds my gaze as he fondles my balls, then achingly slowly, begins to tighten his hold.
I hiss out a sharp breath, pushing up onto my tiptoes.
I don’t pull away.
D’Angelo rewards me with a kiss.
He drags me toward him by the balls and out of the full shower stream that beats now against my shoulders.
My hair is plastered against my forehead. My chest is rising and falling.
Still gripping me hard like he’s making sure that his ownership is clear, D’Angelo lowers his head to my nipple. His hot breath immediately makes my nub peak. When his tongue curls to lick the water off it, I shiver.
“It’s time to reward you for being my good boy.” D’Angelo looks up at me through half-hooded eyes. The my good boy makes warmth curl through me. My mind is already feeling foggy in the best way. “Don’t make a sound. Don’t move. I decide what happens.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He latches his teeth around my nipple the moment that I say Sir.
I understand D’Angelo’s buttons almost as well as he knows mine.
My breath hitches.
D’Angelo licks me one more time, giving me the time to process whether I want this.
I fucking do.
Then he bites.
I can’t help it.
I yell out, banging my head back against the shower wall.
Instantly, D’Angelo lets go of my balls and reaches up to slam his palm across my mouth as a gag. “I said, silence . Slap your hand against the wall three times to safe word. Otherwise, I don’t want to hear any noise. You don’t get to choose what happens now; I do. I’m going to lick and bite this pretty skin, until you can feel it for days.”
I debate risking mumbling thank you, Sir .
Except, I’m going to be good for D’Angelo because the amazing way that I feel at his whispered good boy makes me want to prove him right.
I can be good for him, sometimes.
D’Angelo appears to notice the shift in me.
He presses his hand more firmly against my mouth, but his voice is softer. “I only take the time to claim my most precious property.”
I melt.
Then D’Angelo latches his mouth over my other nipple and bites hard.
My back arches, but this time, my cry is muffled by his hand over my mouth.
It’s reassuring and anchoring knowing that I can scream or gasp as loudly as I need to, but he’s going to keep me quiet.
If I tried to struggle, then he’d hold me down as well.
D’Angelo’s strength gives me the freedom to submit.
D’Angelo’s silky hair brushes against my pecs.
He licks down my abs, before circling my belly button.
“Put your own hand over your mouth.” D’Angelo takes his palm away, in order to drop to his knees in front of me on the hard floor.
It takes a moment for me to follow his order because shit, it steals my breath to see him kneeling like this.
It’s always me kneeling in front of him in the shower.
Normally, just before he roughly fucks my face.
Following D’Angelo’s command and gagging myself with my own palm willingly, somehow makes me feel that I’m even more under his control.
At the same time, it’s liberating.
Then D’Angelo grips me by the hips and bites the side of my arse.
I arch in delicious pleasurepain .
D’Angelo gives me a wicked look, as he hovers dangerously close to my hardening cock.
Is he going to…?
Lightly, D’Angelo grazes his teeth over the glans, and I yell louder.
I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed, when he next rests his teeth on my thigh.
He’s painting my entire body in his teeth marks.
It’s primal.
I lose myself in the sharp points of pain and the haze that follows it.
I’m buzzing with joy because it’s the man I love, who is showing how much he wants me.
It’s D’Angelo’s teeth, which are sinking into my skin, marking and claiming me as his.
I can remember that I belong to him, as long as I have these bruises.
I know in my mind that D’Angelo has promised me forever .
In moments like this, I believe it.
But nothing’s truly forever , right?
Certainly not for trash like me.
Finally, D’Angelo reaches my cock again. This time, he sucks my balls into his mouth, one at a time.
I stare at him in shock and almost take my hand off my mouth.
My thighs are trembling.
Bloody hell, he’s not going to…?
Should I safe word?
I’m torn.
My cock is harder than it’s ever been.
The frisson of fear, as D’Angelo deliberately allows his teeth to graze my sensitive skin, only turns me on more.
D’Angelo has me by the balls more than he ever has done before.
Yet he’s also stroking calming motions on my thighs and giving me the time to make this choice.
It’s not really a choice. Because I want to try this more than I’ve fucking wanted anything.
If D’Angelo owns my balls, then I want him to prove it.
I give a nod.
D’Angelo looks like a beautiful devil, as his cruelly sensual lips tighten around my balls.
He waits an excruciating moment longer.
Do it.
I’m shaking with the anticipation.
Then he bites down, and I scream.
I also almost come.
My knees buckle, but D’Angelo steadies me.
Swiftly, he lets go of my aching balls. He stands towering over me.
I look at him with glassy eyes.
I’m shaking.
He pulls my hand away from my mouth. “I fucking love you.”
Then he kisses me, hard, filthy, and perfect.
I let D’Angelo dominate the kiss, too overwhelmed to do more than open my mouth, as he fucks me with his tongue.
Then D’Angelo pulls back to study me. “Feel good?”
My words are slurred, but I manage, “You bloody bit my balls .”
“Whose balls?”
“Yours.”
D’Angelo smirks. “Rating out of ten?”
“Pain seven. How bloody amazing it felt? Nine.”
D’Angelo looks satisfied. “How about getting your pleasure to ten?”
I smile, nodding.
Then I let out a surprised gasp, as D’Angelo grabs me by the shoulders in order to turn and slam me against the wall. I only just catch myself with my hands in time.
It does something funny to my stomach every time he treats me that dominantly.
Water drips into my eyes. All I can see through the mist anyway is the damp wall.
The small space heightens the intensity.
I moan at the sensation of D’Angelo’s hand, as it clamps around the back of my neck, holding me firmly in place.
“Keep the correct position.” He kicks my legs wider apart. “Give me your ass.”
I struggle to hollow my back and rest on my arms.
D’Angelo’s breath is hot on the back of my neck. It feels like electric sparks down my spine, as he runs his hand all the way down to just above my arse.
Then he slowly parts my arse to trace down my crack.
I startle, when I realize that his fingers are wet with more than water.
When the bloody hell did he get water based lube ready?
And where from?
D’Angelo planned this.
D’Angelo teases over my hole. It makes my nerves sing at every pass of his tormenting fingers.
I push my arse out further for him, begging without words.
He rewards me with one finger pushed inside to prep me, in and then out.
“Do you know that I was imagining being inside you all practice?” D’Angelo slowly adds a second finger, scissoring them. My eyelashes flutter, and he’s back to slowly stretching me out again. “I was thinking about how much I wanted to be inside this tight ass. How incredible you were going to feel — like you were made to be my fleshlight.”
“Oh, fuck.” I groan.
If he keeps talking like that, then I’m going to come untouched.
“Every time you scored,” D’Angelo murmurs, even deeper; I’m shaken because I can hear how much this isn’t simply dirty talk but true, “I was desperate to tear down your pants and dick you right there bent over the goal to show Colton how good you are. Every game, I wish that I could do the same thing in front of the entire audience. Then I could show the whole world that you were mine.”
My mind is blown by both the image, but also what he’s saying beneath it.
I’m not his dirty secret.
He wants everyone to know that I’m his.
“F-f-fuck me,” I mumble, unable to stop myself. “Please…f-f-fuck me.”
D’Angelo chuckles meanly, adding a third finger. He then curls them, pressing down on my prostate.
The movement sends sparks through me.
I whimper. My toes curl in bliss.
I brace my arms more firmly against the wall to stop myself collapsing in a puddle of pleasure.
My cock pulses.
“I’m going to come,” I pant.
D’Angelo smacks me crisply on the arse. “Not until I tell you.”
When he removes his fingers, I hear the rip of a condom packet.
My breathing speeds up. I tingle with anticipation.
Then he grips me firmly by the back of the neck again, before he thrusts into me, hard.
I grit my teeth.
It doesn’t hurt, but there’s a burning stretch.
Hot and cold flushes through me.
D’Angelo holds me in place, not moving for a long moment. His hard chest is pressed against my back.
“Okay?” D’Angelo tightens his hold on my neck but presses a tender kiss to my shoulder blade.
It’s hard to form words, but I manage, “Brilliant, darlin’. Are you going to move any time this season?”
Whoops, what am I saying? Dangerous.
“Brat,” D’Angelo growls.
Don’t dare your dom, when he literally has his cock up your arse.
Then D’Angelo does start to move.
He pistons in and out of me faster than he has done before, showing off just how useful hockey exercises are for hip strength.
I didn’t know that you could fuck as hard as this.
D’Angelo’s been being gentle with me until now.
He appears to have taken my sass as permission to break me.
As I’m battered against the shower wall, shocked into silence, I bloody love it.
D’Angelo fucks me harder, faster, and deeper. His cock is sending sparks through me. Intense waves of pleasure wash through me deep inside.
D’Angelo’s steadying hand on my neck never lifts.
He’s got me.
I’m safe.
But I’m also flying apart, and he hasn’t even touched my dick.
It’s earth-shattering.
Then D’Angelo nibbles my ear, licking along it.
To my shock, he then bites it. “Come.”
I do, as D’Angelo continues to fuck me just as hard under the steam and hot water.
Overwhelmed and overstimulated by the sensation of D’Angelo’s teeth and cock piercing me at the same time, I come the hardest that I have in my life.
My breath shortens.
My eyes roll back.
Then I pass out.