Epilogue #2
“You’ll pay for that later,” he promises over his shoulder, and I will, but it was worth it.
I press forward with the tip of the dildo slowly, and Ash exhales a deep breath.
“Color?” I ask.
“Green,” he says.
I push forward some more, and the bright pink head pops past his outer ring of muscle.
He grunts, and I stop.
“Keep going,” he says, and I push slowly in some more.
I withdraw then press in, then withdraw and press in again until the strap-on is fully seated inside him before I stop to let him adjust.
Ash lets out another long breath. “Go ahead and move,” he says a few seconds later.
I pull out about halfway, then push slowly back in. When I’m just about in, the vibrator buzzes to life, and I jerk forward in surprise.
“Oh fuck!” he groans.
“Are you okay?” I ask in panic. I’m about to pull out when he answers.
“I’m fine. I think you hit my prostate,” he says.
I pause, trying to gather what I know about male anatomy. “That’s… good, right?”
“Very good,” he says breathily. “Keep going.”
I start to move again, and Ash groans.
“Definitely my prostate,” he says.
I gasp as he clicks the vibrator up a notch, and I pump a little faster.
“Holy fuck,” he says.
I take long, controlled strokes, despite being nearly doubled over with my own pleasure as the vibrator sends shivers all over my body.
Pressing into Ash also puts friction on my clit, and I feel my climax build as I fuck him.
There’s something strangely satisfying about pumping my hips this way, and his grunts at each thrust only arouse me more. I force myself not to get overzealous.
I hold onto Ash’s hips as I move, and I have to admit, there’s a certain power in governing another person’s body this way. I understand why men enjoy it. I lean further over him so I can grab his shoulder with one hand as I press my hips into his ass. I thrust a bit harder, and Ash groans.
“You like that, baby?” I purr.
Ash grunts a laugh. “Don’t get too used to this. It’s only for Stanley Cup playoff time.”
“Then you better make the playoffs every year, because this is fun.”
The vibrator kicks up higher, and I cry out again as I thrust faster. Seconds later, Ash swears loudly and lets out a grunt as milky jets of cum shoot from his cock onto the duvet.
We probably should have planned that better and put a towel down, but as I understand it, only a certain percentage of men come that way during anal. Apparently, Ash is one.
The vibrator stops between my legs, leaving me short of a release. I whimper but stop moving as Ash lays his forehead on the mattress, and his body eases from the last throes of his orgasm.
“Undo my hands,” he orders.
I carefully pull out of him and get off the bed to release the metal clasps that tether the wrist cuffs to the straps. He sits back to flex his shoulders before he goes into the bathroom and comes back with a hand towel that he uses to wipe the cum off the duvet.
I start to unfasten the strap-on, but Ash grabs my waist and throws me down on the bed so I’m lying flat on my back. He finishes unfastening the strap-on, helps me pull it off, then tosses it aside.
“Did you come?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No.”
“Good. We’re going to play a little game,” he says as he pushes my thighs open, then sinks down on the bed with his head between them. “We need to win four games to take the Stanley Cup.”
I nod at him, not sure where he’s going with this.
“The number of times I make you come tonight is the number of games we’re going to win,” he says.
My eyes widen. “No!” I try to sit up, but he pushes me back down. “Ash, please, don’t make me responsible for your Stanley Cup hopes.”
Athletes are a superstitious bunch, and if I can’t get my body to come enough times…
Ash looks up at me from between my legs. “You need to trust me, baby,” he says. “I know your body, and I know what I’m doing. Can you trust me?”
The whole thing is ridiculous, but he’s not going to let this go. I’ve learned that much about him.
“I trust you,” I say as I lie back on the bed.
His mouth closes over my already-swollen clit, and I cry out as I undulate my hips, trying to ride his face. I was already close to coming, and within a minute or so, I’ve had my first orgasm.
“One,” Ash says, and I wait for him to laugh like the Count on Sesame Street. Instead, he slips two fingers inside me and starts to work me again.
I arch back against the bed and brace for what’s likely to be an intense few hours.
Gray
Two hours and fifteen minutes later, Ash and I lay sated and barely moving on the bed. His head is still between my legs, and he kisses my clit as I lay panting from my fourth orgasm.
We’re exhausted, but we’ve secured the Stanley Cup for the Hartford Hydra. Or so he insists.
“Good job, baby,” he says, smiling up at me.
I look down at him between my legs. “I just hope the team appreciates our effort.”
He chuckles. “Unfortunately, they’ll never know about your hard work behind the scenes,” he says as he moves up to lie next to me.
“You were the one who did all the work,” I tell him.
“Right, but that third orgasm was a big one. I didn’t think you had another one in you after that.”
I shiver, remembering how hard Ash made me come half an hour ago when he fucked me on the floor in the living room after we’d played a chasing game. He’s right. I didn’t think I’d be able to come again after that, but I’d underestimated the magic of his tongue and how well he knows my body.
Ash leans over me and kisses me deeply. I taste myself on him, and I savor it. He loves going down on me, and I love letting him.
“You know you still have to play good hockey the next couple weeks, right?” I tease when he lifts his head. “As talented as your dick and your tongue are, they aren’t going to win you the Cup.”
He laughs. “I know. But thinking of you makes me play better, and thinking of that look of ecstasy on your face the last time I made you come is going to make me play some of the best hockey of my career.”
I slap his shoulder playfully. “You’re incorrigible.”
His face goes serious, and he runs a finger gently down my cheek before it traces along my jawline. “Whatever happens these next couple weeks,” he says, “I’ve already won, Gray, because I have you.”
I smile and roll my eyes. His words hit deep, but I’ve never handled sentimentality well, and I have to bite back a snarky remark. This man is everything I ever could’ve wanted and more, and I’m overwhelmed by my love for him. I swallow back the emotion and meet his eyes.
“You’re going to win,” I tell him. “I know it.”
He smiles. “And how do you know that?”
I shrug one shoulder against the bed. “You just aced the oral exam. After that, I have a feeling the field test will be a piece of cake for you.”
He chuckles. “So I passed then, huh, teach?”
I lean up and kiss him. “A+.”