11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Cat

I sink into the plush couch, tucking my feet under me. The remote clicks as I flip through channels, finally landing on the post-game wrap-up. The commentators' voices drone on about missed opportunities and defensive lapses.

Fuck.

Another loss for the Minotaurs. I know how bad Wyatt wants to make the playoffs and I’m sure Leo does too. While I don’t understand the whole points system just yet, I do know a loss doesn’t help matters.

My fingers curl around the stem of my wine glass, bringing it to my lips. The rich cabernet slides down my throat as I watch the highlights from the game. Or lowlights, really, given the outcome.

Leo appears on screen, his powerful form cutting through defenders like a hot knife through butter. The puck leaves his stick in a blur, finding its way to the back of the net. Even the commentators can't hide their admiration.

A smile tugs at my lips, pride swelling in my chest. It really was a beautiful goal.

The kids had trudged up to bed earlier, shoulders slumped. Mason had mumbled a quiet “night” before disappearing into his room and Stella's usual sass was muted.

The alarm system's sharp beep pierces the quiet, followed by the soft thud of the front door closing. I sit up straighter, listening. Leo's footsteps, heavy and slow, echo through the foyer.

I crane my neck, peering over the back of the couch. Leo lumbers into the living room, his massive frame filling the entryway. His shoulders are slumped, his usually proud posture bent. In this moment, he reminds me of Atlas, condemned to bear the heavens on his shoulders.

“Hey,” I say, keeping my voice low. “That last goal was amazing.”

Leo's jaw clenches as he runs a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up in all directions like a disgruntled porcupine. “Doesn't matter if we can't win.”

I bite back a sigh. “Jesus, Hartman. Can you take a compliment for once?”

His ice-blue eyes lock onto mine, a turbulent storm brewing behind them. Frustration, exhaustion, and something deeper, something raw and vulnerable that makes my chest tighten.

“You look like shit.” While meant as a joke to lighten the mood, they miss their mark. Sometimes, I’m a dumbass. Biting my lower lip I try again. “I mean—want some water? Or one of those nasty protein shakes you chug?”

He nods, trailing behind me as I head to the kitchen. The fridge hums as I yank it open, grabbing a bottle of water. Leo's presence looms behind me, radiating tension like a furnace.

I turn, nearly colliding with his broad chest. I thrust the bottle at him and our fingers brush, sending a jolt of electricity through me. “Here. Hydrate before you shrivel up into a raisin, you big grump.”

A low growl rumbles from his chest. “I'm not—”

“Oh, please.” I cross my arms and cock a hip, rolling my eyes for added effect. “You've elevated brooding to an art form. It's like your superpower or something. Do you sit upstairs practicing your dark, smoldering looks in the mirror? Because I gotta say, you've got that shit down pat.”

The corner of his mouth twitches, and suddenly he's chuckling. The sound is deep and rich, like expensive chocolate melting on your tongue, and it sends an unexpected warmth flooding through my body.

Mierda.

Leo unscrews the cap and takes a long, slow swig from his water bottle, his throat working as he swallows. I zone in on the movement, watching the way his Adam's apple bobs, the way the muscles in his neck contract. It's mesmerizing, and I have to force myself to look away.

He reaches past me to set the bottle on the counter, effectively caging me in with his arms. “For someone so tiny, you've got an awful lot of sass.”

I tilt my chin up, meeting his gaze. “What can I say? I'm fun-sized with a bonus attitude. Like those tiny candies that pack a surprising punch. Plus, I'm incredibly useful when you need something from the low shelves. You giants always struggle with that, don't you?”

Leo's eyes darken, a dangerous glint appearing in them. “That smart mouth is going to get you in trouble, Hellcat.”

“Oh, yeah?” I stand on my tiptoes to lean closer, my lips barely an inch from his. “What are you gonna do? Punish me?”

I let my words linger over him before pulling back, just enough to see his reaction, a smirk playing on my lips. I know I've won when his jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek.

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.” His hands find my hips, gripping tight, threatening to leave bruises. “So if you can’t handle it, say so now.”

“Think it’s you that can’t handle me.” He’s so fun to tease. I’d love to watch him come undone.

My face barely reaches his chest, and he has to dip down to look me in the eyes. He tucks his fingers beneath my chin, holding me in place so I can’t look away. “You’re so fucking frustrating.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that. But what are you gonna do about it? Because so far, all I've seen is talk. No action.”

The muscles in his jaw flex, and my lips quirk for only a second before his are on mine. My pulse thunders in my ears. It's not a gentle kiss. It's rough and demanding, all teeth and tongue and primal need. His mouth moves against mine, his tongue asserting dominance, but I'm not one to roll over and submit. I bite back, my tongue fighting against his, my teeth nipping at his lips.

We stay tangled like that, unable to break away, unable to break the other. It's a battle of wills, a power struggle, and I'm determined to come out on top.

When he finally pulls away, I'm lightheaded and breathless, my chest heaving up and down with the effort. I have to keep my hands on his chest to stay steady, and I can feel his heart pounding beneath my fingertips, mirroring my own.

God, everything about him feels so good. I fight back the urge to drag his face down to mine and kiss him again. In truth, I want more than to kiss him. I want to tear his clothes off and ride him until we're both screaming. And if I start, I might not stop.

I lick my lips, a slow, deliberate movement meant to drive him crazy. I want to see the shock in his eyes when I drop to my knees, but he must be thinking the same thing because he beats me to it, his hands pressing on my shoulders, guiding me down.

I smile up at him, a wicked grin that promises all sorts of dirty things as I unbutton his dress slacks. My fingers hook into the waistband, tugging them down along with his boxers, freeing his cock.

Holy fucking shit.

I knew he was big, could see the outline of him through his sweatpants the night I fell. But it's another thing entirely to see him up close and personal. He's thick and long and hard, the tip glistening with pre-cum. My pussy clenches at the sight of him, desperate to be filled.

“Cat.” His voice comes out strangled.

I love it.

Love the power I have over him as I wrap my hand around his shaft, my thumb circling the sensitive head. I jerk him softly at first, building a slow, torturous rhythm, my eyes locked on his the entire time.

He shivers, his eyes fluttering shut for a second before snapping open again, dark and hungry.

There's something intoxicating about watching a giant of a man like Leo unravel beneath my touch. I want to see him come undone, want him to lose control. But I also want to make him suffer a little bit first.

I lean in, my breath hot on his cock, but I don't take him in my mouth. Not yet. I want to see just how long he can resist before shoving himself inside.

Leo groans. Five seconds. That’s all it takes before his hand grips the nape of my neck. “Stop fucking around and show me what a good girl you are. Show me how beautiful you look as you choke on my cock.”

A thrill of pleasure pools in my core at his words, at the raw, dirty demand in them. I grip him tighter with one hand, the other cupping his balls, giving them an encouraging squeeze.

“You got me so fucking hard.” His fingers twist between strands of my hair, his hips moving the faintest amount.

Those words make it impossible to keep teasing him. I need to taste him now. I run my tongue lightly over the head of his cock, lingering on the ridge, tasting the slight saltiness of his precum. Then I lick harder over the top of the vein along his shaft, and he twitches in response.

His hands fist in my hair as I take him deeper, my throat contracting around him. He pulls me forward, pushing another inch into my mouth, and my eyes water as the heated smooth skin of his cock slides further into me.

He groans, a deep guttural sound as he adjusts his stance. “Good girl, Hellcat. Make sure to suck every drop out of me.”

I moan around his thick length, my hand dropping between my legs to rub my throbbing clit as he fucks my mouth. My pussy clenches on my fingers as I shove two inside and suck his cock harder.

“Such a good girl when you can't talk, huh?” Leo pants, his grip on my hair tightening. He thrusts deeper. “Maybe I should've filled your bratty mouth sooner.”

I reach up, my hand slick with my own desire, and fondle his balls, giving them a light squeeze. They draw up tighter against his body and he shudders, his breath hitching.

“Fuck, Hellcat . . . so fucking good.” His thighs tense, and his cock throbs in my mouth, growing harder, the vein pulsing on my tongue.

Saliva drips down my chin as I gag, but I don’t care. I’m too busy savoring him, too busy frantically rubbing my clit.

His hips buck wildly into my mouth as he hits the back of my throat, a low groan rumbling in his chest. “Oh, fuck, Cat. I'm coming. I'm coming.”

When he tries to pull me away, I reach up and grab his ass, pulling him to me, my nails digging into his firm flesh. No way I’m not tasting him.

He pushes deep into my mouth, holding me in place as he spurts down my throat, his head thrown back. “Fuck, Cat! Fuck!”

As he comes, so do I, my body trembling with my own release. I moan around his cock, my pussy clenching as waves of pleasure crash through me. Then I take my time, swallowing every last drop, licking his head clean then taking care of his shaft before looking up at him. His chest is heaving, his eyes wild, neck and cheeks flushed.

Think I may love this side of him. The uninhibited one. The one taking what he wants.