Chapter 12 #2
“Are you alright?” I ask Gavin at our post-win impromptu party in Bouchard and Olsen’s dorm room.
How we managed to cram the entire team in here is somewhat of a miracle.
Coach Chris would murder us if he saw us right now.
But we all needed to let loose after that win and Bouchard and Olsen offered their stockpile of smuggled liquor, along with a card game, in their room.
The festivities are starting to die down, and people have slowly been tapping out and filing into their rooms. But I’m not leaving until Gavin is ready. We have our own form of celebration to do.
He smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m good.” He lays a card down from his hand when it’s his turn to play. “Just getting tired.”
“We can go back to our room,” I suggest.
He nods his head, then plays another card.
I watch him in silence. The look in his eyes is like the Gavin I first met.
Lonely and troubled by whatever it is that swirls in his mind.
He’ll deny it, but I know he thinks too much.
He has a myriad of reasons: his dead mother, his dad, proving himself as something more than the Alaskan white trash he’s convinced everyone sees him as, protecting his team, keeping his secrets to himself all while trying to walk the tightrope of remaining in the league.
The list goes on, and I’m sure it’s filled with things I don’t even know about yet.
But right now seems like an odd time for him to be disappearing inside his head. We’re at the Olympics, we just won our first game on our quest for gold, and he has me to be by his side throughout all of it.
My stomach drops. Maybe that last one is the problem. Maybe he’s second guessing this thing with me. He did say we shouldn’t do this. He tried to warn me it would be a bad idea, but I pushed anyway because I couldn’t resist the way he makes me feel. Safe, seen, and understood.
I bite my lip and watch him throw down the last card. He rises to his feet and thanks Bouchard and Olsen for letting the team party in their room. “Don’t forget practice in the morning,” he says to the few remaining team members there.
“Bus picks us up at nine a.m.,” I say.
Bouchard gives us a salute. “Aye aye, Captains,” he says and laughs to himself as he gathers the cards.
Once we get back into our room, whatever was haunting Gavin seems to leave him.
Mostly. There’s still a trace of it in his eyes as he holds my face between his palms before he closes his eyes and kisses me.
But at least here, while we’re alone, he feels settled.
Centered. Content in this little corner of the world we’ve temporarily carved out for ourselves.
“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he says when he breaks the kiss.
“Could have fooled me.”
He kisses me again quickly, then continues. “I almost did it after you scored that first goal.”
“That would have been quite the moment,” I say, feeling relief wash over me as he kisses me again. This time deeper, more urgent. The kind of kiss I’ve been waiting for all night. I relax into it. We’re okay. I have nothing to worry about. Not now, at least.
“Take off your clothes,” he commands, and I comply. “Now get on the bed.” I step back and fall onto the mattress, looking up at him as he removes his sweatshirt.
He keeps his eyes on me the entire time he strips. When all his clothes have been shed, he grips his cock and gives it a few slow strokes. “Do you want this?”
I lick my lips and beckon him over. “You know I do.”
His eyes flare with lust, burning away that hint of loneliness I saw before.
He gets on the bed and immediately crowds me.
He’s everywhere. His lips are pressed against mine, his right hand is cradling my jaw, his left hand is lifting my right leg up in line with his torso so he can lay his body down on me, lining up our erections.
And somehow, it’s still not enough. I need to be closer to him.
“Fuck me,” I whisper into his ear between long kisses.
He stills his body and lifts away from me slightly so he can look me in the eye. Inside those soulful brown pools all I see is caring. “Are you sure?”
My heart clenches. I’ve never been surer about anything my entire life. I’m surer about this than I ever was about hockey. I need Gavin. All of him. And I want to feel that need satisfied inside me in the only way I can imagine how. “I’m sure,” I say. “Please, Gavin. Fuck me.”
He dips down and kisses me again, long, and deep. It makes my entire body hum.
“Roll over,” he says the next time he pulls away, and I do as he lifts himself from me.
Once on my belly, he spreads out my legs, then I feel his wide hands spread my ass cheeks apart.
I shiver with pleasure when his tongue laps against my hole.
Just like the first time he did this, he makes a meal out of me and slowly feasts on my tenderest flesh.
His licks are slow and lavish, and his hums of approval vibrate up my spine, setting my entire body ablaze with heat and desire for him.
But as good as this feels, it’s not enough. I need more of him. I’m desperate. “Please, Gavin. I need…”
“What?” he cuts me off. His voice husky. He licks me again and I moan. “What do you need?” He licks me again, and then I feel one of his blunt fingertips press firmly against my hole. “Do you need this?” He presses it inside while his other hand moves in a soft circular motion around my lower back.
“Or…” he says as he gently curls his finger inside me, brushing against a spot that makes me buck my hips forward. “Do you need something more?”
“More,” I pant, practically begging. “I need you.”
“You have me,” he says and curls his finger again.
This time I laugh. The sensation on my prostate plus his words are too much to contain.
My need for him, my desire, and affections towards him are dangerously close to bubbling up over the surface.
I’m almost too far gone, and my fear is that I don’t think I care.
“Please, Gavin. I need more of you. All of you. Inside me.”
He uses his hands to roll me over, then crawls up my body to give me a kiss.
“Anything for my captain,” he says, then pulls away from me and leans over the bed. I can’t see what he’s doing, but I can hear a zipper being pulled and the sound of fabric rustling When he comes back, he’s holding a condom and a bottle of lube.
I eye the condom. I know it’s the responsible thing to do. I know it really doesn’t make a difference, and that sex is supposed to still be just as great with one. The only other guy I’ve been with used one. But he wasn’t Gavin. And right now, I want to feel him skin to skin if I can.
I bite my lip and his eyes soften. He follows my gaze and seems to read my mind. “I’m negative,” he says. “I was tested before the season started and I haven’t been with anyone since. We don’t have to use it. But it is up to you. I can’t make that decision for you.”
I reach and pull it out of his hand, then toss it to floor.
He laughs and his lips pull into a hungry grin.
Then, with his hands, he grips the backs of my knees and pushes them up and forward.
He’s exposed my most vulnerable area in a shameless way, then dips back down and begins licking at my hole again.
This time, his licks are fast and forceful, moving with a purpose of getting me as wet and pliant as possible.
Once he’s satisfied and I’m mewling and moaning at the top of the bed, he stops and pops the lid of the lube open, drizzling an ample amount onto his hand.
He smears the lube across my entrance. Every nerve ending in the area is already buzzing with anticipation.
Then, he pours more lube into his hand and spreads it around his hard dick, giving himself a few strokes while he does it.
He looks at me with great affection. “Are you ready?”
I nod and beckon him to me.
Carefully, he lifts my hips, resting them on his bent knees, then guides the head of his dick to my hole. He pauses, pushing forward and favors brushing the head over the area a few times before he grips himself steady and begins to press inside.
The flush that I feel paint my skin the moment he breaches my entrance warms my entire body as it makes my heart race. He runs his free hand over my chest, then up my neck, and stills his palm against my cheek.
“Beautiful,” he moans, and plunges deeper, bringing himself down to the hilt.
He remains still for a moment with his eyes closed. His breaths are deep, and I can see him swallow.
“Are you alright?” I ask.
He smiles and opens his eyes to look at me again. “I should be the one asking you that.”
The truth is, I am more than alright. Sure, his cock is huge.
Larger than anything I could have ever imagined putting inside of me.
And while in some ways, it hurts, in other ways it feels too perfect right where it is.
Like it’s been supposed to be there this entire time.
But I can’t just say that. So instead I say, “I’d be better if you’d start fucking me. ”
He laughs and gives a thrust to his hips. The pull, then push drags his dick over my prostate and my toes curl. My mouth drops open on a gasp and he does it again and again and again, setting a smooth rhythm.
He adjusts my legs so that I can wrap my ankles around his torso then leans forward and kisses me while he begins to fuck me deeper and harder.
He’s a sweating, grunting mess and couldn’t be hotter if he tried.
My dick between us is screaming for attention.
But I’m afraid to give it any as I know the moment I wrap my fingers around it, I’m going to come hard and fast and this will be over before I’m ready.
So I ignore it and focus my attention on the sensation of Gavin sliding in and out of me.
I want to memorize each thrust. I want to continue to feel his thickness in me for days to come.
I want my hole to be forever changed by his presence.
His thrusts begin to speed up and become erratic.
He’s getting close and I suppose it’s time for me to start chasing my orgasm as well.
When I go to reach my hand between us, he pushes it aside then lifts his body enough to reach his hand down and grip me himself.
He matches the strokes of his hand with the thrusts of his hips. Both moving faster and faster.
“Gavin, fuck,” I moan. “I’m gonna…”
“Do it,” he says, practically growling. “Come for me, Connor.”
And I do.
He cries out as I come and gives me three more hard thrusts before his hips slow down, sliding his cock in and out at a much softer pace while he’s consumed by his own orgasm.
He’s beautiful when he comes. Masculine and strong with sweat beading down his neck. When he collapses on top of me, I kiss the sweat from his neck and enjoy the salty, heady nectar.
“That was…” I say, not knowing where I want to go with my words.
“Everything,” he says for me.