13. Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Beckett
The ride back to my apartment is relatively quick, more so because I had the bike going over 100 mph, mostly to calm myself down. While Viktor's bratty side seriously pushed some limits, I also caught the way he backed up when that jackass's hands first started to dip lower.
What's unsettling is not knowing what length Viktor will go to for attention. There's no denying he has mine. But then what? He moves on?
Why am I even thinking about this? It's not like I want something serious with him. Not when my life is starting to feel like it's getting back on track.
I know I'm playing with fire by giving into him right now but, as he pointed out, I already crossed the line. And maybe fucking him will get it out of both of our systems. He'll move on and turn his attention to someone else.
Throwing the door open to my apartment, I pull him inside, then slam the door and pin him against it. "You think you can handle me because of a little throat fuck? Well, you're about to find out what you've really gotten yourself into."
I crash my mouth down on his, devouring him as I rip his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. My tongue dominates his as I grapple with his belt, then pants. When I yank the zipper, it rips and I know I probably just destroyed his really expensive suit.
Oh, well. I'm sure he has the money to replace it.
He moans and whimpers into my mouth, rocking against me as he kicks off his shoes, then pants.
"Such a needy slut. Is this because you haven't gotten off for a few days? Or are you always this way?"
"I . . . you. Want so bad."
Pulling back, I pin him with a glare. "You smell like him."
"Who?"
"The asshole you were dancing with." I grab his arm and lead him toward the bathroom. "Want the scent of that cheap cologne gone."
"Jealous?"
When I look over my shoulder at him, he's smirking, like a fucking brat. Oh, I'm going to put that mouth of his to good use. But a shower is in order first because that citrus smell is turning my stomach.
"Thought I was off limits ?"
"I'm way past giving a fuck right now, Chaos."
Pushing Viktor into the bathroom, I flick on the light, then back him up against the vanity. My fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers and I pull them down.
What I don't expect is for the arrogant goalie to freeze up. Not sure why. Because, fuck, his cock is gorgeous—long, thick, and mouthwateringly hard.
"Uh, you know what. You're right. Maybe we should think this through. Can't risk having you get fired." There's a tremble to his voice, and he's looking all over.
I stand, then take step back, unsure what the fuck just happened. But as I look back down, raking my hand through my hair, hard as fuck and equally confused, my eyes are drawn to the thin, jagged silver line marring the side of his buttock.
When I reach for his hip, he backs up as far as he can get. "Viktor—"
"Think I should go."
Except when he bends to grab his boxers, more of his ass is on display. More scars are on display.
"Chaos?"
He straightens slowly, eyes downcast.
I close whatever distance is between us. "Who did this to you?"
Viktor nibbles on his bottom lip. "It's nothing. Just some fun gone wrong."
Like fuck.
Lifting his chin with my forefinger, I make sure our gazes lock. "You've been stalking me, flirting with me, pushing my buttons, and now that you're about to get what you want, you're trying to run out of here. So, no Chaos, this isn't nothing. Who marked your beautiful body like this?"
He throws a dismissive hand in the air, the smile on his face fake. It doesn't reach his eyes, and it's too tight. "It's not a big deal. Just a bit of kinky sex."
"Did you like it?" My voice is calmer because the last thing I want to do is kink shame.
"The sex was great."
"Not what I asked."
His shoulders slump a bit. "No."
"Did you have a safe word? Why didn't he . . . or she stop?"
He chuckles. It's soft and low. "I'm gay, so it wasn't a woman. And it was new and thrilling and I got caught up and Zach—"
"Knight!" My voice booms and I swear people across the street must be able to hear me. "Fucking Zachary Knight did this to you?"
Viktor's lip trembles, his eyes wide and wet. "Please don't make a big deal. He just got carried away. It's in the past."
"Can't promise that."
"He's my friend." Viktor steps forward, practically curling into me. "He didn't mean it. I've gotten past it. Please let it go."
I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. "Fine. Now get in the shower."
He goes willingly, more subdued, the heated moment between us gone. As he steps into the stall I really look at the marks on him. Some are definitely from knife play, but others appear to be from a whip. I've seen shoddy whip work, mostly from inexperienced people or those who were high or drunk.
Neither fit who Knight is.
Which could only mean he opened Viktor's skin on purpose.
I swallow hard and step in behind Viktor, turning on the water and letting it heat up before gently pushing him under the hot spray.
For someone so confident, so brazen, I'm starting to wonder if maybe he's not as self-assured as he lets on.
"Too hot?"
He shakes his head. "It's perfect. You going to wash me? Pamper me?"
I reach past him to the soap dispenser on the wall, pressing the lever to fill my hand with a rich, fragrant body wash. "That's exactly what I'm going to do."
For fuck's sake, he's basking in this, his eyes half-closed and a content smile playing on his lips.
I chuckle as I sink to one knee, the other bent with my foot flat on the shower floor. Reaching out, I take hold of Viktor's right ankle, guiding his foot to rest on my thigh. Starting at his calf, I wash and massage his lean muscles, relishing the feel of his skin under my hands.
Slowly, I work my way up, kneading the defined muscle of his thigh, noting how different his build is from the defensemen and forwards.
Viktor is lean, his musculature evenly distributed rather than bulky. But there's no denying his strength, the coiled power in his long limbs. He's built for speed, for agility. A body honed to perfection for his role on the ice.
And fuck if it isn't the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
When I've thoroughly washed his right leg, I guide his foot back to the floor, then tap his other ankle. "Other leg, Chaos."
He obeys without hesitation, lifting his left foot to rest on my thigh. I start the process again, washing and massaging from calf to thigh.
My hands linger, my touch shifting from cleansing to caressing. I trace the lines of his muscles, the jut of his hip bone, the curve of his ass.
Viktor's head falls back against the wall, a low moan escaping. "Beckett . . ."
The way he says my name, rough and needy, makes my cock throb. I want to hear him say it again, want him to scream it.
I stand, reaching past him for more soap, then run my hands over his torso, my fingers tracing the ridges of his abs before washing his arms, admiring the way his veins pop under his skin.
"Turn around. Keep your hands on the wall."
He obeys instantly, looking at me over his shoulder with hooded eyes. I let my gaze roam over the expanse of his back, drinking in the sight of him.
"Knew you liked me," he purrs, his hips swaying slightly as his gaze drops to my cock. "Bet you can't wait to push that thick monster into my hole."
"Shut it." I let my soapy fingers dip between the cheeks of his ass, and he pushes his hips back, a whine reverberating deep in his throat. My cock twitches at the sound.
Leaning forward, I nip at the shell of his ear as my finger circles his tight hole. "So fucking needy. So desperate for my touch."
But even as I tease him, I take my time, savoring every moment. This isn't just about cleaning him. It's about erasing every trace of that cheap cologne, replacing it with my scent.
When he's fully rinsed, I drop to my knees behind him, my hands spreading him open. I press open-mouthed kisses to the base of his spine, my teeth grazing his skin, my lips kissing every scar.
My tongue traces a hot, wet path to his hole and when I reach it, I dive in, licking a broad stripe over the furled muscle. The taste of him, musky and masculine, explodes on my tongue.
Viktor's knees buckle, and he scrabbles at the slick tiles. "Fuck!"
I growl against his skin, the vibrations making him tremble. My tongue delves deep, fucking into him with rough, demanding strokes.
"Beckett, fuck, yes!" Viktor babbles, his voice high and breathy as he pushes back against me. "Don't stop, fuck, please don't stop . . ."
"That's it, Chaos. Show me what a dirty boy you are."
And he does, whining and whimpering as I lick and suck at his hole, alternating between broad, flat strokes and pointed jabs.
When his legs start to shake, I stop, then stand, turning him around to face me. "On your knees. Time to apologize for dancing with that jackass."
Viktor sinks to the shower floor without hesitation, his eyes locked on my aching cock. He leans in, nuzzling the hard length, his soft lips brushing the sensitive skin.
"Fuck," I hiss, my hand fisting in his wet hair. "Stop teasing and suck me."
"So impatient, Becks. Don't you want me to savor it?"
"What I want . . ." I growl, tightening my grip. ". . . is for you to put that bratty mouth to better use."
Viktor grins, then parts his lips, taking just the head into his hot, wet mouth.
I groan, my hips bucking. "Deeper. Show me how sorry you are."
Relaxing his throat, he swallows me down until his nose presses against my pelvis. I hold him there, reveling in the tight, fluttering heat of his throat.
"Never going to forget how you look with your mouth full of my cock." I rasp, my thumb stroking over his hollowed cheek. "So. Fucking. Beautiful."
Viktor whimpers, the sound muffled around my flesh. He looks up at me, his eyes watering.
"You like having your mouth stuffed with me, don't you?" I rock my hips in a shallow thrust. "Nod for me, Chaos."
He does, as best he can with his mouth stretched wide. The sight makes my balls tighten, pleasure coiling hot and heavy in my gut. Grabbing onto his head with both hands for leverage, I thrust into him roughly, using his mouth how I like. He takes it beautifully, his throat working around me just like last time, his fingers digging into my thighs.
My orgasm builds fast, too fast, and I pull out abruptly. Viktor cries at the loss, his lips swollen and slick with spit. "Not yet. I want to be inside you when I come. Want to feel you squeezing my cock."
"Fucking finally. Thought I would waste away to dust before you decided to wreck my ass."
Rolling my eyes, I scoop him up and carry him to the bed.
He laughs, a rich, self-satisfied sound. "Oh, so it's the princess carry, huh? Guess I'm precious cargo now."
I press my lips into a thin line, fighting back a smirk as I carry him into the bedroom, then toss the brat onto the bed, enjoying the little "oof" he makes as he bounces on the mattress. He props himself up on his elbows, his legs falling open in clear invitation.
"Well, come on then, big boy," he taunts, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Show me what you've got."
I slap the inside of his thigh, making him yelp. "On your hands and knees, facing the cheval floor mirror."
"Ooh, kinky. You want me to watch while you take me apart?" He winks, then arranges himself on the bed, presenting his perfect ass to me.
"Always have to run your mouth, huh?" I slap his ass hard enough to turn the skin pink. "And no. I don't want you looking at me. I want you to see how beautiful you are. How good you look getting fucked."
Something flickers in his eyes. Viktor needs attention just as much as he needs oxygen. He'll do anything for it, and based off his earlier admission, I can't help but wonder if he knows what he genuinely likes.
Or if he goes along with whatever his partner wants to guarantee he gets the attention he craves.
I grab lube and a condom from the nightstand, quickly preparing us, then I kneel behind him, lining up and pushing in with one smooth, relentless thrust.
Viktor's mouth falls open, a broken moan escaping as he's filled. His arms tremble, struggling to hold himself up.
I reach out, fisting a hand in his hair and yanking his head up. "Watch yourself, Chaos. Watch as I destroy this ass."
His eyes are locked on his reflection, wide and dark with lust as the sound of skin-on-skin echoes in the room. His body jolts with every thrust, his cock swaying heavy and hard between his legs.
"Look at you taking my cock so well, like you were made for it."
His cheeks are flushed, his lips swollen and parted as he pushes his hips back to meet my thrusts. One of his hands drifts to his chest, fingers tugging on a nipple.
"That's it. Pinch them, play with them. Show me how you like it."
He does, plucking and pulling, and putting on a show, whether he realizes it or not, performing for his own reflection.
And fuck. What a show it is.
I drink in the sight of him, the sound of his moans, the feel of his body tight and hot around me. It's almost too much, almost overwhelming in its intensity.
But I don't slow down, don't hold back. I can't, not when he's looking like that, not when he's falling apart so beautifully.
His whole body shudders, a broken moan tearing from his throat, his hand flying to his dripping cock. "Feels so good, so fucking good . . ."
"That's it. Play with your cock. I want to see you come while I'm buried inside you."
He strokes himself hard, fast, relentlessly. "Fuck. Oh, fuck, Beckett! I'm gonna . . . Fuck, I'm coming!"
His ass clamps down around me as he spills over his fist, his whole body shaking with the force of his orgasm. The sensation pushes me over the edge, and I bury myself to the hilt, grinding against his prostate as I empty myself into the condom, a guttural groan tearing from my throat.
Viktor whimpers, still rocking back against me, milking every last drop.
I collapse on top of him as we struggle to catch our breath, both panting, sweat-slick, and spent, our hearts racing in tandem.
"Fuck, that was . . ." he trails off, seeming at a loss for words. A rarity for him.
"Incredible," I finish, carefully pulling out, then sitting up to remove the condom and tie it off. "You were incredible."
He rolls onto his back and hums, a satisfied smile on his face. "I know."
"Brat." I roll my eyes, but I can't stop the fondness that swells in my chest. Even post-orgasm, he's still a brat.
My brat.
Fuck.
I shake my head as I get out of bed and pad into the bathroom. After disposing of the condom, I walk to the cabinet and, just as I open the door to grab a washcloth, a white ball of fur bursts out. "Goddammit, Mouse!"
My heart's beating a million miles an hour as I mumble, wetting the cloth with warm water. Shaking my head and taking a few deep breaths, I return to the bedroom to find Viktor fast asleep.
Carefully, I clean him up, wiping away the sweat, lube, and cum. After, I toss the cloth aside and arrange him more comfortably on the bed before sliding in behind him. I pull him close, his back to my chest, savoring the way he fits against me.
As I listen to the steady rhythm of his breathing, a sinking realization settles in my gut.
I'm fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.
This was supposed to be a one-time thing, a way to get the infuriating goalie out of my system, an itch to scratch and then move on, going back to our roles of coach and player.
But now, with his warmth seeping into my skin, his scent filling my lungs . . . I know once will never be enough.
I want more. I want everything.
And that wanting, that bone-deep need . . .
It might just cost me everything.