Devious Obsession: A Dark Hockey Romance (Hockey Gods)

I moan before I’m fully conscious. Pleasure twists through me, eradicating the awful cramps that have been lingering in my lower abdomen. And then I’m more aware of what’s actually happening. The weight pressing on my hips, the hand around the back of my neck.

I force my eyes to open and stare up at Steele. He’s watching me, leaned over a little while his fingers move across my clit. And then my shock gives way to horror.

“Steele, I’m—”

“Shh,” he whispers, thrusting harder into me. “I’ve got you.”

My eyes roll back. I reach up and loop my arms around his neck, dragging him down harder against me. Our chests are flush, skin sliding against each other, but he doesn’t relent on my clit. Everything about it is slow and purposeful, like he enjoys stoking this fire within me.

I’m burning up.

His lips finally touch mine, and I open my mouth to him. His tongue takes possession, and another whimper comes out. I lift my legs and hook them around his hips, and he suddenly slides even deeper. The stretch of his length inside me is glorious. It’s like he’s never fucked me before, every part of me is hypersensitive.

He breaks off the kiss and trails his lips lower, down my throat. He sucks my nipple into his mouth. My back arches automatically, and I gasp. The sound echoes in my ears.

“Oh, god,” I cry when his teeth scrape my skin. His tongue flicks at my nipple. He matches the movements with his fingers on my clit.

It doesn’t just bring me to an orgasm—it shoves me into it.

I cry out again, louder, as it rips through me.

His pace quickens. His fingers leave my clit, dragging up my body. He palms my other breast, squeezing and kneading it as he pumps inside me faster. Harder. Each slam rocks my bed against the wall, the headboard knocking. I lift my hips to meet his thrusts.

And then he explodes with a growl, his mouth dropping my nipple. He buries his face in my neck and comes inside me.

We’re still for a handful of seconds, until reality filters back in.

I shudder. I’m on my period.

I had a tampon in—which is really not advisable for sleep, but sometimes it’s just that bad. I shove Steele off me and sit up. The sky is lightening, enough that I can see exactly the sort of mess we made.

Red coats the insides of my thighs and speckles the towel under my ass. He sits back on his heels, and I stare at his dick. Which is still half hard and pointing at me. And streaked with blood.

I close my eyes.

Horrified. A little disgusted.

“Hey.” He grips my chin. “Look at me.”

“This is—”

“Did it feel good?”

I swallow around the lump in my throat and crack my eyes open. Did it feel good? “Yeah…”

“Good. Then don’t be ashamed, because I don’t give a fuck if you’re bleeding. Your pussy is mine in all its states.” He releases my chin and pulls me up. “I took your tampon out, by the way. In case you were worried.”

Wow. Just when I thought I couldn’t be more embarrassed.

He leads me out of the room and straight into the bathroom. I watch my bare feet as he locks us inside and turns on the shower. While the water heats, he comes back to me. Runs his hands up my sides and over the outsides of my breasts. His thumbs skate over my nipples.

There’s blood on his fingers. The ones that were touching my clit…

“You want me to prove how much I don’t give a fuck?” There’s a challenge in his voice.

I don’t answer. I can’t.

He lifts me and sets me on the counter, then spreads my legs. He pushes two fingers into me, curling them. Rubbing my G-spot with expert pressure. He pulls them out and pushes them back in. Then he kneels.

My heart goes into my throat.

His gaze is locked on the tattoo, but his mouth descends lower. He sucks on my clit without hesitation. He adds a third finger inside me, and I groan. The sound of the water hides it, at least, but I can’t hide my fascination with him. Or the fact that he truly seems to be enjoying this.

He’s hard again. He palms his dick with one hand. Not stroking, though.

“Put me in the shower and fuck me again,” I say on a groan, giving in and digging my fingers into his hair. My hand seems to have other ideas than my mouth, though, because I press him harder to my core.

He snickers and flicks my clit with his tongue, then sucks harder. His teeth scrape it. He travels higher, his nose brushing the sensitive tattoo. The one that proclaims me his.

For the first time, I feel it.

Like he owns me.

I shudder at the realization. I’ve let him inside me in more ways than one, and the vulnerability in that rocks through me.

All my life, I’ve learned to never trust a man. I barely trust my uncle—he’s inserted himself into my routine now, thanks to Steele—but Mom never trusted anyone except us. We were always on the run, always looking over our shoulders.

So why would I open myself up to hurt?

But Steele has broken me wide open, and he’s feasting on my insides.

“Stop,” I whisper, tugging his hair. “I can’t do this.”

“You can,” he growls. There’s blood on his lips, his chin. Not that he seems to care—and it makes him look more like a warrior than anything else, fresh from battle. “You can and you will, Aspen. You’re going to come on my fingers. And then I’m going to put you in the shower and wash the blood from us, and I’m going to worship your body again.”

I close my eyes.

“You want to know why, little viper?” He twists those fingers inside me, finding some new way to elicit a moan from my lips. “Because obsession and love are the same fucking thing. And I’ve been obsessed with you from the start.”

He dives back down before I can respond.

I’m pretty sure he just told me he loves me.

But my mind has blanked.

I come, just like he promised.

And I’m sure the rest will follow, too.