I blink, fluttering my lashes. My girlfriends have complained that long lashes were wasted on me, but I’d say they’re coming in clutch. If the only reason the powers of the universe gave me long lashes was to use them against Luke VanCourt, I’d say that’s divinity well spent.
Luke exhales slowly. “You’re very fucking pretty, princess.”
Shit, that might have worked too well. His finger shoves inside, twisting. It’s not even the physical stimulation getting me hot this time, but the position. I’m completely exposed and at his mercy. Something in my chest ripples.
“I saw you push him, and I’m fucking glad you did. I’d had enough of him touching you on the bus.”
“Does that mean…?”
“That I don’t give a fuck if you were fighting with your teammates? Yes.”
“But Coach, your brother?—”
“Is fully capable of handling you himself on the ice and in the locker room. That’s his territory. Mine’s off the ice, princess. Now tell me how good you’ve been at following my rules, and maybe Daddy will wrap his mouth around this.”
He curls his fingers around my cock, and I’m a decent size, but his hand fucking swallows it.
“I’ve been behaved, Daddy. I’ve done everything you said.”
“Memory is terrible at my age. You’ll have to remind me.”
He’s notthatold and the memory thing’s a fucking lie. He’s the damn elephant of remembering. What he means is he’s a fucking sadist who wants to hear me say it. His hand squeezes, reminding me I’m under the gun. He’s totally the type of asshole who’d dangle this carrot and take it away if I’m not prompt enough.
But fuck if I don’t like that, too.
“I didn’t touch my cock at all, Daddy. I’ve shown up to class on time. I’ve been disciplined, and I wore the boxer shorts like you told me to.”
My cheeks heat impossibly hot, for having to admit that out loud, and because I’m reminded of the thought I had. Should I say something?
“Um, Daddy?” Why does he make me fucking shy? This is ridiculous.
“Yes, princess?”
“You said the boxers thing was so I’d feel you, but…”
I cover my face, and his fingers inside me stops. I have all of his attention. Gently, he pries my hands from my face. “It wasn’t enough,” he guesses.
“It wasn’t.”
“What do you need?” He strokes his finger in and out of me some more. “C’mon, tell Daddy.”
“Something physical—on my body physical,” I clarify, but that’s not quite enough either. “I wanna ache with you, Daddy.”
He nods, thinking about it, probably coming up with all kinds of dastardly ideas. “Noted. How are your grades?” The finger’s gone, and it’s just his hand around my cock.
“Mostly on track.” All he’s doing is holding my cock hostage, but being questioned like this, knowing I have to behave to get to come is going to incinerate me.
“Mostly?” He cocks a brow, I’m dangerously close to losing this.
My lip pouts. “I’m still … hockey. Some of my other classes are harder to keep up with because of hockey, but I’m working on it, Daddy.Please.” He can’t expect miracles to happen in a few short weeks, can he?
He nods. “I’m going to go against my better judgment and trust that you are, McKinnon. Sounds like you’ve been a goodboy for Daddy, guess I’m forced to reward you,” he says as if it’s some hardship.
Asshole. Yeah, he fucking is. I smile. “Yes—ah!”
He’s down, mouth around my cock, and I already know I’m gonna explode in an embarrassingly short amount of time. Short breaths punch from my lungs, and my fingers hold onto the edge of the desk for dear life.
I’ve had my dick sucked a lot. A lot, a lot. By men and women. But never with a buildup this long and never under these circumstances. But also, never by Luke. He uses his tongue, swirling it around the head, his teeth graze in all the right places, and good lord, where does he get all that saliva from? Is it a werewolf-man thing?
