34. Spencer
I can’t get that fucking picture Oliver had the nerve to send to our group chat out of my head as we’re getting dressed for tonight’s game. Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is Tori’s perfect fucking body and how utterly stunning she looked with a dick in both her holes.
Too bad Oli had to ruin it with his smart fucking mouth.
“Don’t worry about rushing home, fellas. I got this.”
Fucking bastard. As if Eli and I wouldn’t be on the first plane home from Winnipeg if we could. Fuck Minnesota. They’re at the bottom of the division and are tanking anyway.
I’m so busy brooding that I don’t realize the national anthems are done, and Eli has to pull me down by my jersey to avoid looking like an idiot as Tex, Alexei, and Henri form up to take the opening faceoff.
“Something got you distracted, Black?” Logan asks into my ear after the puck drops.
It’s a loaded question, of course. He’s also in the “Tori’s Alphas” group chat, a separate one from our household chat and one that Tori isn’t part of, and knows damn well what’s on my mind. But Coach has a funny way of dealing with his jealousy, though he’d never say that he is out loud. That won’t stop him from running me ragged on the ice tonight for admitting that I’m thinking about all the ways I’ll be fucking Tori the nanosecond we get home from this goddamn trip.
“No, Coach,” I reply, keeping my eyes on the puck.
Logan gives me a hard pat on my shoulder. “How about you, Joker? You gonna be able to keep your head in the game?”
“Not if you keep pressing your hard-on into my back,” Eli snaps back, not missing a beat.
I contain my laugh to a snort even as Logan slaps the back of Eli’s helmet hard enough to make the passing Jets forward look around. But Dallas is on his way to the ice for a change, and Assistant Coach Bailey taps me in.
By some blessed miracle, we manage to eke out a win despite having basically no time to fully incorporate Leroy’s replacement into our formations. Winnipeg didn’t give up the ghost easily, and I’m a walking zombie as I trudge to the bus with the rest of the team. Our flight to Saint Paul isn’t until the early afternoon tomorrow, which I’m honestly grateful for at this point.
Once we reach the hotel, everyone parts ways, and I follow Eli to our room, functioning almost on autopilot. Flopping down on the first soft surface I find, I don’t even move as Eli plops down next to me.
“You’re on my bed, BlackJack,” he says, voice muffled by the mattress.
“It’s our bed now,” I mutter back.
“Fine by me.” Chuckling, he worms his way up to the headboard.
I do the same, losing my dress pants and button-down along the way, leaving me only in my underwear as I crawl under the covers. My head barely hits the pillow before I’m out like a light.
“Do you like that?” Tori pants from above me.
I nod, my hands going to her hips to help her ride me. We’re back in Vegas, and the room is dark except for the lights from the strip filtering in through the sheer curtains. Her pale skin shines with a thin layer of sweat, and I reach up to pull her mouth to mine. But as she leans forward, another figure appears behind her. Oliver, judging by the glow of golden eyes.
“Hold her for me, BlackJack. We’re going to fill up our omega in all her pretty holes.”
The mattress sinks above my head, and I look up to see Eli kneeling on the pillow, his thick cock already leaking pre-cum as he guides it toward Tori’s mouth. Looking down at me, he gives me a wink, his blue eyes nearly white in the low light.
“Do you want a taste first, Spencer? Because I don’t mind sharing this with both of you,” he purrs, shaking his cock slightly and sending a drop of his pre-cum onto my waiting tongue.
I wake with a gasp, my body tingling with awareness and my cock pulsing in time with my racing heart. The room is dark, but a little pre-dawn light is visible around the edges of the window where there’s a gap in the curtains. The dream felt so real, and I can almost feel Tori’s heat wrapped around my shaft, and even the phantom tartness of cranberries in my mouth.
I try to sit up, to get up and clear my head, but arms around my chest hold me still. When I look down, I find Eli tucked into my side, clinging to me like a koala, one leg even hooked around mine to hold on even tighter. His platinum hair is mussed, and I jolt when I realize he’s looking at me.
“You were having a wet dream,” he whispers. Not a question, but a statement of facts that I can’t deny.
“I can’t wait to get home,” I say on a sigh, flopping back against the pillow.
I shift to extract my arm from where Eli has it pinned to my side, draping it around his shoulders and squeezing. We’re silent for a moment, and I try to focus on anything other than my raging boner in an effort to go back to sleep. But as I shift again, I realize there’s something else hard in the bed, and it’s poking me in the hip.
“If you were dreaming about Tori, then why did you moan my name?” Eli asks, his softly accented voice nearly an octave lower.
Before I can answer, he’s up and straddling my thighs, his hands pressing my hips into the mattress. I’m frozen under his icicle stare, the fire behind his irises making my body break out in goosebumps. When he’s satisfied that I’m not going to throw him off, Eli slides his hands up my chest, his short nails scraping my abs.
“ Knulla 1 , it should be illegal to be this pretty. I should call the authorities,” Eli says, laughing lightly at his own joke.
I smirk at him. “Is that your way of telling me you want to put me in handcuffs?”
Eli flashes a grin that’s equal parts salvation and sin. “I’m sure that can be arranged, if you want. Oli’s got a whole bag of tricks tucked into the back of his closet. But I prefer a hands-on approach.”
My eyebrow quirks at his turn of phrase, but I don’t get to speak the question forming on my tongue as Eli closes his fingers around my cotton-covered bulge and gives it a firm stroke. I try to buck, but despite Eli’s smaller stature, he’s surprisingly heavy and does a good job of keeping me right where he wants me.
It’s been years since I’ve done anything with another man, and I almost regret not initiating something sooner. Tori feels like heaven, but there’s something different about the way Eli handles me. He knows where to linger, where to apply pressure, how hard to stroke to get me to the edge faster than I think I could have managed on my own.
“You’re so fucking hard, spaderknekt . 2 I wish I’d brought lube with me so I could fuck you for real,” Eli mutters, almost to himself.
My arms finally decide to join the party, and I reach up to grab Eli’s throat and shoulders, pulling him to my chest and rolling him over onto his back. I pause for a heartbeat, eyes locking with Eli’s so I can see his nod of consent before I slant my lips over his. The kiss is hungry, a clash of teeth and tongues as we battle for dominance. But as I squeeze my hand around the thick column of his muscled neck, he relents and relaxes into the bed.
We work together to remove the last layers of fabric separating us, and I groan into our kiss as I wrap my hand around Eli’s shaft for the first time. I’d seen it before, and it was impressive to behold, but touching it, really feeling the heft and girth of his member, makes me dizzy. I’ve never bottomed, but I might have to for him, just to see how much of him I could take before I begged for mercy.
Eli’s hand goes to his mouth and gathers a glob of saliva before returning to my cock, spreading the moisture and creating the most magnificent glide. Pulling away for a moment to spit in my own hand, I return and match my pumps to Eli’s. Soon our hips are rolling together, and I gasp as the tips of our cocks brush.
“Grind against me, spaderknekt . Take both our cocks in that huge hand of yours, just like that,” Eli instructs, releasing his grip to help me wrap my fingers around us.
We both moan as our cocks rub together, the friction incredible, especially when we move closer and our knots press against each other. Eli adds more and more saliva as I stroke, our breathing turning to pants as we find a rhythm. I bite my lower lip to keep from moaning too loud, which becomes increasingly difficult as I approach my release.
“When we get home, I’m going to have your cock in my ass for real. Maybe Tori can join us. I’ll put my cock in her pussy so you can fuck us both at the same time.”
Eli’s dirty talk is unrivaled, conjuring the image behind my closed eyes. Tori on her back in that gorgeous nest we built for her, with Eli and I above her, and Oli in her mouth. It’s too much, and I gasp out my linemate’s name as my balls draw up. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me as I spray Eli’s bare chest with my cum, and he’s right there with me, painting my skin with his release.
The room is silent for several long heartbeats after we climax, the air drenched in the scent of berries and sex and metallic ozone. I wait for the post-nut clarity to come, but there’s no embarrassment. If anything, the only regret I’m feeling is over the fact that we haven’t done that sooner.
Eli moves first, padding to the bathroom and giving me a great view of his ass. He returns with a damp washcloth, which he uses to clean me up and then himself. Well, he cleans up only after he gathers up a hefty serving of my cum from his abs on his fingers and brings it to his lips.
“Mmm…that’s nice. Like an after-dinner mint,” he says, wiping away the rest.
I let out a bark of laughter so loud that I’m sure it wakes our neighbors. We settle back into bed, Eli playing the part of the big spoon this time with me tucked into his side. He drops off almost instantly, but as I stretch, I realize he missed a spot near my nipple. Checking to see if he’s really asleep, I drag my finger across my skin, gathering up the viscous fluid on my finger before popping it in my mouth.
Tart like fresh cranberry juice. Just like my dreams.
1. Translation (Swedish): Fuck
2. Translation (Swedish): BlackJack [lit – jack of spades]