Puck Block : A Brother’s Best Friend Hockey Romance (Bexley U)
Puck Block : Chapter 48

I love her so much it terrifies me.

I wish I could lock the feelings away, but I’m so physically bound to her that it would destroy me to leave her in bed like this. Her tears have dried, and her chest no longer rushes with emotion. Instead, she’s trembling beneath me as I kiss her like it’s the last time.

I sit up and take my clothes off. They end up in the same pile as her clothes that she stripped from her body, knowing I would be slipping into her bed at some point. I say nothing as I cover her body with mine and kiss her again.

It starts off gentle. I nip at her mouth, and she presses the softest kiss to my lips. My hand cups the side of her face, and I go in for more. I deepen my strokes and let my body show her how much she means to me. It’s an uncontrollable, unhinged kiss and she whimpers.

Her warm hand presses against my chest, and I roll over when she climbs on top to straddle me. My hands fall to the small of her back, and I touch every inch of her bare skin while she rocks against me.

Our lips never unlock when I slip inside. Her gasp is shaky against my mouth, and I glide in and out with my hand crawling up her back to grab onto her hair. Sex was always a tool I used as a distraction or a way to get off, maybe even to build my ego, but with Taytum, it’s so much more.

It’s grounding, but thrilling.

It’s intense, but sensual.

She has me in the palm of her little hand, and I’m not even sure she knows it.

I break away from her kiss to watch her move over me. “You feel too good.” I swipe my thumb against her clit. I watch in awe as her eyes roll into the back of her head. Goddamn. “Tell me you’re mine,” I demand.

She moans. “I’m yours.”

“But only behind closed doors, right?” I ask, feeding off every bit of displeasure I have not showing the world that she’s mine.

Fuck Emory’s disapproval.

There’s no one better for her than me.

“Ford.” Her blue eyes flare, and her pupils dilate. I have never seen a hotter sight. I’d destroy the entire world for her right now if she asked me to.

Her tits bounce in my face when she starts to pick up her pace, and I immediately tug on one of her nipples with my teeth. When I slowly rise to look her in the eye, I spot the rosy color covering her skin. She’s flushed with need, because of me.

A hot, lustful sigh flies from her mouth when I tug on her other nipple.

“I love the way you look when I touch you.” Her whimpers and moans will send me to the grave one day.

Taytum’s eyes flutter open, and she glances at my mouth. “I love it when you touch me.” Her voice is raspy and breathy, and I’m going to fuck her so hard she can’t help but feel my possession over her.

Because that’s what this is.

Possession.

“Tell me you’re mine again,” I say.

She doesn’t hesitate, and there is nothing in this world that can take away the feeling it gives me. “I’m yours, Ford.” She stares down at me. “I think I’ve always been yours.”

I gaze at her long and hard before flipping her on her back. “I’m done waiting,” I say, settling on top of her. I don’t have to explain. She knows what I’m talking about.

Her chin is so small in my grip, but I hold it steady and pound into her. She rasps out a feverish breath, and her pussy instantly tugs against me.

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

Possession scorches my skin when I pull back to push into her again.

“After the game,” she rushes, meeting me halfway. She’s close to coming, and it’s hard for me to register what she’s saying. I slam into her again while holding the headboard steady with my hand for support.

“What?” My question comes out winded.

“We can tell Emory—but after the game.”

It was the right thing to say but at the wrong time.

My mouth falls to hers so hard I may have busted her lip. I fuck her harder. I continue to move in and out of her with speed until her perfect little pussy grips me and she’s moaning against my mouth.

We started off slow, but things are ending sloppy. She’s like a drug to me. The more she gives, the more I want, and there’s no hiding how much I love her after this.

“After the game,” I confirm.

She nods against me.

“Good, because I love you so fucking much that I’m not sure I can take not claiming you in front of everyone for a second longer.” She stills. “You heard me right. I love you, and I always have, but you don’t have to say it back.” I enter her one more time before groaning the rest. “I already know you love me too.”

I pull out and come so hard I collapse on top of her with my come on her stomach.

Neither one of us moves for a long time, but eventually, I get up and clean us both off. I don’t bother with clothes. Instead, I pull back her covers and climb into her bed. Her bare leg slides over top of mine, and her head rests against my steady heart.

Sleep sweeps in quickly, but I know I’m not dreaming when I feel her warm breath against my chest. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you,” she whispers.

I wait until my throat unclogs with emotion to say, “I know.”

The energy in the arena tonight is out of this world. Coach confirmed there are more scouts lining the stands than at the start of the season, and it’s important now, more than ever, that I continue to play the best defense I ever have.

Pro hockey has always been the holy grail.

When you’re on a team like Bexley U, your only ambition is to make it big, but my goal has never been to prove something to myself or make it big to inflate my ego. It’s always been about making the sacrifices from my aunt and the Olsons worth it. Being an orphan is a mind-fuck, you learn at a very young age not to take things for granted.

Only now, instead of wanting to prove a point to the people that raised me, I’m striving to make it pro so I can support the girl in the stands whose eyes follow my every move on the ice.

If I don’t make it pro and get some stellar entry-level contract with a team, I’ll just have to replace a job.

“Keep up the D,” Theo says as he rushes past me to head out of the locker room for the second period. “And don’t get distracted.”

I nod, knowing that he’s referring to our chat in his room the night before.

Theo, Claire, and I damn near had a therapy session, and although I left with not one, but two solid plans in tact to ease the Olsons’ finances and take care of Taytum’s medication for a while, I still can’t fight the worry concerning her sporadic sugar levels.

I’m the last to leave the locker room. I’m not even halfway through the threshold when I decide to rush back to my locker and check her levels for peace of mind. Maybe then, I can focus and play the game of my life.

I open the app as a bead of sweat trails over my nose, and a rush of panic rains over my body. Her sugar isn’t where it should be. I send her a quick text, throw my phone back into my locker, and rush toward the arena.

Coach meets me in the hallway. “What the fuck are you doing? The game is starting.”

I say nothing and move past him quickly to reach my starting spot. Theo shoots me a look, and I nod, telling him that I’m fine.

The buzzer is about to sound, so I swing my attention to Taytum in hopes that it can give me some type of silent indication that she’s okay, but seeing her unravels me instead. Her light hair is a curtain covering her face as she holds her phone in her hand. It sends a flood of relief into my bones, but then Claire looks to Taytum’s phone, and her jaw slacks. She bends quickly and pops back up with Taytum’s insulin pen.

Is she okay?

“Ford!”

My name breaks the dam of silence, and the roaring crowd floods back in. I turn in panic because the game has started, but within a split second, I’m paralyzed with shock.

Oxygen vanishes from my lungs, and my helmet glides through the air as we both soar over the ice. I land like an avalanche, and I know I should shield my head without the protection of my helmet, but I’m a little too late.