Chapter Three
Earn It
Carter
I was embarrassingly hard before she even laid a finger on me.
Okay, so that was a bit harsh. Technically, she did lay a finger on me. In fact, she laid her whole damn hand on me and rubbed my cock before squeezing it so hard I didn’t know if I wanted to scream and shove her away, or groan and beg for more.
I was so out of my element, but fuck, was I enjoying it. I still could barely believe Livia had agreed to the whole thing, so any time she shot me a look or rewarded me with a little piece of praise, it was enough to have me panting and howling for more.
It wasn’t just that I was excited to touch her — though Jesus, that alone was enough to short-circuit my entire nervous system. It was that for the first time in my life, I felt like I was taking control of the part of myself I’d always been too ashamed to own.
I’d spent years trying to scrub off the voice of my OHL coach who’d broken me down.
He’d told me I was too soft, too easily rattled, too emotional to lead.
And I’d believed him. My parents had watched me turn from a confident, happy kid who loved to play hockey, into an anxiety-riddled mess who couldn’t perform.
That pressure had haunted me for years — on the ice, in the locker room, in bed.
Eventually, I was able to work with Coach McCabe, with our goalie, Will Perry, and with other players to figure out how to be better for the team.
I’d painstakingly slowly figured my shit out, and I finally felt like a reliable teammate who could show up, play the puck, pass and score, and contribute to a winning season.
This was my opportunity to do the same thing for my personal life — this time, with Livia as my coach.
And I knew before we even got started that she wasn’t just going to teach me — she was going to give me the tools to make the changes on my own.
I could see it in her predatory gaze already, how she wanted me to crave the power of knowing exactly what I was doing and exactly how to make someone else feel good.
I’d fought tooth and nail to find confidence on the ice, building it brick by brick with every game, every season, every brutal loss and hard-earned win.
Now, I had a chance to do the same thing here: to torch the fear, rewrite the narrative, and become the kind of man who didn’t just score, but dominated.
I was tuned in to her every move now that the contracts were signed and the caps were back on our pens. Livia made me pull my chair to the middle of the room, and now, she circled me like a lioness sizing up her prey.
She told me she planned to teach by example.
So, I buckled in for the presentation.
I clocked every click of her heels, every brush of the fabric of her suit against the chair, and when she dragged her fingernail from one shoulder to the next as she passed behind me, I visibly trembled.
I really was like an eager schoolboy, early to class and sitting in the front row. I wanted to learn. I was fucking excited.
And if I thought her little touches and looks were undoing me, it was nothing compared to when she lowered her mouth to my ear and whispered her first command.
“Unbutton your shirt,” she said, pausing to lick along the shell of my ear before she added, “Let me see what I’m working with.”
Immediately, my hands flew to the button on my dress shirt. I shoved my suit jacket out of the way and hastily made work of each button until my chest and abdomen were exposed.
Livia circled me slowly, grinning as she watched me obey her.
“Are you ready to give up control tonight?”
She purred the words, her voice low and sure and amused. It lit me up like a goddamn firework, and I shot back my response without hesitation.
“Yes.”
I was pathetic.
But apparently, that was exactly how she wanted me, because Livia’s lips curled higher.
In a feat of balance, she effortlessly lifted one leg, dragging her heel up the inside of my calf before she planted the pointy toe of it right between my thighs. Half an inch higher and she would have stepped right on my balls — and I had a feeling that was the whole point of the move.
“It’s a shame you don’t have a tie with this ensemble,” she mused, eyes dragging the length of me. “But your jacket should work.”
When I didn’t automatically move, she arched a brow at me.
“Strip.”
The word popped off her red-stained lips, and I did as she asked, shrugging out of my suit jacket and handing it to her.
She smiled when it was in her hands, admiring the fabric for a moment before dropping her heel back to the ground. “Good boy. Now take out your cock.”
That little spark I’d felt from her praise before ignited again, my next breaths coming wilder as she circled behind me once more. But I hesitated at her last request — mostly from the shock of hearing those words roll out of her beautiful lips.
Suddenly, nails dug into my chin, yanking until I looked up at the woman I’d dreamed of touching for so long this all felt a little unreal.
“Believe me when I say you don’t want me to have to repeat myself.”
Swallowing, I kept my eyes on hers, watching as they flared when I reached down and unfastened my belt.
I slid the button through the slit next, tore the zipper down, and then shoved my pants and briefs down to my mid-thighs.
I had to wiggle to get them down — even with custom-made pants, hockey had given me thighs and an ass big enough to make it a difficult task to accomplish.
When my cock sprang free of my briefs, the tip already coated with precum, Livia finally broke eye contact with me long enough to look down.
I thought I saw a hint of appreciation in those gleaming eyes of hers, but wasn’t sure if it was because of my cock, the two-million-dollar paycheck she had coming, or because she was excited to toy with me.
Either way, she released my chin, patting my chest before she walked around the chair.
I took the momentary break from her intense glare to try to lock into student mode. I mentally noted the words she’d said so far, how they’d made me feel, how I’d love to make a woman feel that way, too.
Livia was beaming with assurance. Not even a full five minutes in and she’d already made me feel both safe and desperate for her. That was my goal, too — I wanted to emulate that.
But when she bent at the waist, pulling my arms behind me, and began to tie my wrists together — I slipped out of student mode as my heart picked up its pace.
Our first lesson, and this woman was already binding me.
“You’re not allowed to touch me unless I say so. Understood?” She tightened the fabric around my wrists as I responded.
“Understood.”
“What are our safe words?”
I smiled. “High stick and offside.”
She stroked my hair, rounding the chair until she was in front of me again. Just because I was curious, I tested the knot she’d tied, attempting to pull my hands apart.
They barely budged, and the thick fabric somehow cut deep into my wrists, threatening me not to try that again.
Livia’s eyes flashed like she anticipated that move, like she bet on it — and she was satisfied with how it all played out.
“If we’re focusing on how to pleasure a woman, then there’s no better place to start than with that pretty mouth of yours,” she started, reaching out to slide her thumb across my bottom lip.
The first deliberate touch of her skin against mine had me closing my eyes and leaning into her.
“And you will use only your mouth tonight.”
I chased the ghost of her touch with my tongue as soon as she pulled back, breath knocking hard against my chest when I looked up at her.
“You will not come until I allow you to,” she said. “If I allow you to at all.”
Fuck me.
My cock jumped, and Livia noted the movement with a teasing smirk. “Look at you,” she crooned, her eyes skating over every inch of me like a blade. “So eager. So desperate. Just how I want you.”
I swallowed, the lump in my throat making me gulp loud enough for Livia to hear.
Her grin widened before she slowly unbuttoned her blazer, peeling it off one shoulder and then the other.
She hung the expensive thing carefully on the back of a chair across the room, at the dining table we’d abandoned, and she took her time on her way back to me, rolling up the sleeves of her blouse as she took each leisurely step.
She stopped in front of me, the low bass and melodic beat of unfamiliar music serving as the soundtrack as she offered up her forearm like it was dessert. The velvety brown skin there was smooth and inviting, and she angled her arm until it was just inches from my mouth.
“Kiss me.”
I dropped my gaze, heart racing like she had her pussy in my face instead of her arm. This already felt like a test I was ill-prepared for.
But the only way out was through.
It was impossible not to overthink, impossible to quiet the thoughts tripping over themselves in my mind as I leaned forward and lowered my lips to her arm.
Don’t fuck up, loser.
God, you have no idea what you’re doing.
She’s bored with you already.
She can’t wait for this to be over.
You’re going to fail.
You already have.
I couldn’t erase them, but I did my best to ignore them. I’d learned how to do that during a game, learned how to override those thoughts and lean into my intuition.
I only hoped I could do the same here.
Tentatively, I pressed a kiss to the soft skin of her forearm. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was supposed to be doing, so I just… kissed her. Then, I inched back and looked up for my next direction.
“Again. And this time, don’t kiss me like I’m your fucking grandmother.”
The corners of my lips twitched, but then I stared at the spot where I’d kissed her arm before and furrowed my brows with determination.
I leaned forward once more, but this time, I didn’t just press my lips to the skin.
I tried to tease her, kissing once, twice, three times, trailing each one across her delicate arm.