The Penalty Box (A Vancouver Wolves Hockey Romance Book 3)

The Penalty Box: Chapter 22



I WAS HAMMERED and horny as fuck. Charlie stood before me, naked and lush, and it took all my willpower to remain sitting on the bed. She didn’t move. She just stood there, staring at me. It drove me mad that fucking Andrew had bought her a necklace. I knew that had nothing to do with her; I knew it wasn’t her fault, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to possess her and remind her she belonged to me. Judging by the way her rib cage rose and fell, she wanted that reminder.

I unbuttoned my jeans and pushed them down, pulling out my rock-hard cock. I gave it a hard squeeze. Pre-cum dripped out of the tip, making it slippery. “You need a reminder about who you are married to.”

Her wide eyes watched my hand.

“Come here, Charlie.” My voice was calm and low, belying the deep ache in my body, hiding the need to drive myself into her depths.

She hesitantly moved to stand before me. Our eyes met. I reached a hand between her thighs, hiding my groan as I felt how slippery wet she was. She wanted this. As much as I did.

“Look at how wet you are,” I taunted. “Someone needs to get fucked.”

Her lips parted as my fingers slid over her clit before pushing into her tight channel. She moaned in response, her hand grabbing my arm to remain balanced.

“Climb onto my lap,” I demanded. I grabbed her wrist and held her as she climbed onto the bed and kneeled on either side of my legs, straddling me. My aching cock strained on my stomach.

This was not how I envisioned our first time, but I didn’t care. If I didn’t get my cock into her in the next five seconds, I might lose my mind. My hands moved to her ass, my fingers digging into her soft flesh. She was breathing hard, her fingers clutching at my shoulders.

“Do you think Andrew wants to fuck you?” I asked.

Her body stiffened. “No.”

“I think he does. I think he wants to have you for his own.”

She wordlessly shook her head, but her lips were parted slightly and her breath was coming in short little gasps. Using one hand, I fisted my cock, lining it up perfectly with her pussy, which was hovering slightly above it.

“I think you need to be fucked by your husband so you remember who you belong to.”

Her legs trembled hard.

I continued to tease her. “How long have you wanted this? You’ve wanted my cock between your legs for two long years.”

She bit her lip as she begged my name. “Mica.”

I put my arm around her waist and slowly pulled her down. Her eyes went wide, and the most wondrous look crossed her face as we made contact. The tip of my cock nudged her entrance. I yanked harder, pulling her down over my cock. She moaned hard, arching her back as I entered her.

Pure sensation flooded my body as her smooth hotness squeezed over my dick in a vise grip. She felt so good that I blanked out for a second. I was buried balls deep inside of her and I couldn’t remember the last time my body felt this good.

She gasped and opened her eyes. “You’re so big.”

I kissed her mouth. “Move for me. Fuck me.”

She moaned hard and shifted her hips. Holy fuck, that felt good. I bent down and pulled one nipple into my mouth, sucking hard. She was making me crazy. “Fuck me. Show me you know you’re mine.”

She was awkward at first and unsure as she slowly experimented with moving on top of me, making me think she had never tried this position before. That thought made me hot. I felt myself grow bigger inside of her.

She paused, her eyes wide. “We need a condom.”

I was so drunk, and part of my brain knew how fucking stupid we were being, but there was no way I was letting her get off. “I’ll pull out.”

She started to grind her hips back and forth, to slide me in and out of her hot depths. God, she was so sweet, so perfect as she worked her body on mine. I’d had a lot of sex in my life, but nothing compared to this. This was next level. Her scent, the sound of her breath, the feeling of her hips moving, her tight, hot body clenching me. It felt like I’d never had sex before, that’s how good it felt.

I looked up at her. “You needed this. Your little pussy is so hungry for some cock.”

She moaned. Her chest was flushed and her nipples were hard pebbles. I reached up and pinched one of them hard, making her cry out.

“You like it when I tell you to get naked. You want to be told you’re going to get fucked, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she gasped, moving her hips faster. God, she was so wet, so hot, so tight.

“Are you going to remember that you’re my wife? And that this is the only cock you fuck?”

“Yes,” she sobbed.

Maybe it was the vodka, or because this was the first time I had ever fucked without a condom, but I was losing control. I could feel my balls tightening, and I knew I needed to make her come now.

I sucked on my finger moving it to her backside. She cried out as I slowly pushed my finger into her tight little rosebud hole. My other thumb found her clit. Her pace picked up, and her hips were loose as she worked herself over me.

My voice sounded strained. “You’re mine.”

I wiggled the tip of my finger in her other hole and she went off like fireworks. Her entire body stiffened as she spasmed over my cock. She clenched her jaw, making the most amazing suppressed whimper as she orgasmed.

I wrapped my hands around her waist and bucked up into her, jerking hard to drive myself higher into her. With little warning, my balls felt like they exploded.

“I’m coming,” I ground out as I felt my cum spurt out of me in hot waves inside of her. I didn’t want kids. I didn’t want to get her knocked up, so why was it such a fucking turn on to be shooting my load inside of her? Why did I drive myself higher into her, as if I needed to coat every inch of her walls with my cum? Why did it feel so hot to know my seed was inside her bare pussy?

What the fuck is wrong with me?

It made no sense, but it made this the hottest sex I’d had in my entire life. I was drunk, but I knew I never wanted to put a condom on with her again.

She collapsed forward, her head buried in my shoulder. We remained like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard.

“You came inside of me,” she gasped.

And I’d fucking do it again. A hundred times over.

“Yeah, I did.” No fucking apology. No admitting I made a mistake. Just a plain acknowledgment of my bad behavior. Maybe because I wasn’t sorry. Maybe because in that moment, I felt like she truly belonged to me.

I rolled her over onto her back, my cock still inside of her. Being as drunk as I was, I didn’t know how I was still rock hard, but I was, and I wanted her again.

This time it was slow and soft between us. Kissing, soft sighs. I pushed her hair off her face and stared into her eyes. She put her hands on my shoulders and let me do the work. I moved slowly, deliberately, and when she reached that point of the edge, I pinned her arms above her head, slowly thrusting into her, driving her towards her release.

I watched her face when she came, and it was more beautiful than priceless art. I did that to her. I made her feel so good that her body shook and tiny whimpering cries escaped out of her.

“I want to come inside of you.” This time I at least had the decency to ask.

“Why?” she asked, breathless and wide-eyed.

“Because you’re mine.” It was dangerous to be this honest with her, but there were no walls now between us. She lifted her head to give me a wild kiss.

We were playing with fire, but I didn’t care. I picked up my pace and thrust deeper and higher into her. I buried my face into her neck, groaning loud when I felt myself again spurt deep inside of her. I lifted my head to study her face. Her eyes opened, and something passed between us. An understanding and an acceptance that tonight we had moved closer to something. Something neither of us dared to talk about.

I STRIPPED NAKED, and we lay in bed, her head on my chest, my hands tickling her back. We talked about the day, laughed over different things and then we fell asleep.

I woke up to a dark quiet house, a dry mouth and a hard dick. Charlie was curled up against me, her back against my chest, her butt cheeks snuggling my dick. I wanted her. I wanted this, all of this, to survive past our deadline. Would she be okay with that? Did I have enough to offer her that she would want to give this marriage an honest shot? If she said no, I decided I would spend the rest of this year trying to convince her otherwise.

I didn’t even wake her. I just entered her from behind and slowly started to fuck her awake. She lay curled on her side, her head buried in her pillow. I pinned her one arm behind her back and, breathing hard, worked to thrust steady and deep inside of her. She moaned into her pillow. I reached around her, found her clit and played with it while I rhythmically penetrated her tight depths. When she started to come, I fucked her harder, driving her to pitifully cry out into her pillow while her jerking body arched against my hold. I didn’t pull out of her that time either, even though I was mostly sober. I figured the damage was done and one more time wasn’t going to change anything.

THE NEXT MORNING, I felt like hell. My head pounded from too much booze and lack of sleep. I found Charlie in the bathroom, getting out of the shower. In the light of day, I couldn’t believe how fucking reckless we had been.

“I came inside of you last night.” I was blunt. We needed to talk about this.

She flushed as she tightened the towel around her chest. “I think it’s the wrong time of the month. I think we’re okay.”

I felt like a complete shit for asking her this, considering it had been my decision to come inside of her, but I didn’t want to take any chances. “What about that morning-after pill?”

Her expression was one of distaste. “The side effects of that pill sucks.”

I debated our options. “How sure are you that it’s the wrong time of the month?”

She thought about it. “I’m confident we’re okay.”

“Because I don’t want kids.”

She nodded, acceptance in her gaze. “I know.”

“But I want you.” I cleared my throat but couldn’t seem to make myself say the rest of the words.

Her gaze clung to my face. “What do you mean?”

I felt like my heart was hanging by a thread over a molten lava pit of fire. I cleared my throat again. “If things are this fucking hot between us in a year, I’d be open to seeing where this went.”

Her hand flew to her mouth, but she didn’t speak. At least not with her words. Her eyes were a mixture of shock, hope, and disbelief.

I was so shit at this. “No promises. Let’s wait and see how it goes.”

That might have been the most unromantic gesture I’d ever made in my life. I couldn’t understand why she was still hanging in here with me, when I was so bad at everything meaningful.

A tremulous smile lit up her face. “I’d be open to that too.”

A hot, tight band around my chest loosened considerably at her words. “Okay.”

I watched as she moved to the mirror and started to prepare for her day. Her shaking fingers told me she wasn’t as nonchalant as she pretended to be.

“I meant what I said about having kids. That’s not who I am, Charlie. I’ll never change my mind. So, if you go forward with me on this, you need to know that’s non-negotiable.”

Her eyes met mine in the mirror. “I’m okay with not having kids.”

Honestly, I didn’t deserve this woman. I moved to stand behind her and I wrapped my arms around her waist and tugged her against me. My lips traced down her arching neck. “You’re really okay with this?”

In the mirror, I could see her eyes drift shut and a small smile played on her lips. “Yeah. I am.”

“Then we should figure out some birth control.”

“Do you want me to go on the pill?”

Hell yes. I worked to remain casual. “Yeah, if you’re okay with that.”

Someone knocked on the bedroom door.

“Mica?” It was Jasper calling through the door. “I think you need to see this.”

THREE MINUTES LATER, the five of us gathered around my Porsche.

“I can’t even look.” Mark cuddled Sasha to his chest. “It hurts me.”

Someone had slashed all four of the tires. They had also keyed the entire length of the car and dumped paint over the roof. Dark red paint splashed the entire car, dripped onto the driveway, and dried in dark pools that reminded me of congealed blood.

“I’m calling the police,” Charlie said, stepping back into the house. I let her. For the sake of my insurance, I would need a police report.

“Who’s the asshole?” my mom spoke in Russian.

“Charlie owed someone a lot of money. She inherited her brother’s gang debt.”

She spit over her shoulder. “You should call Andrusha, not the police.”

“Andrusha is on this,” I informed her. “He told me he had this handled.”

“Well, he needs to know it isn’t handled. You should call him again.”

I GROANED when I opened the door to see none other than Detective Wallace standing beside two officers.

He looked me over. “Rough night?”

I worked to remain civil. I only needed my damn police report so I could call my insurance company. “We called to report some property damage.”

“I see someone took out some aggression on your car.”

I moved outside, firmly shutting the door behind me, not wanting them anywhere near my home. “Yup.”

“Any idea when this happened?”

“Our last guest left around two in the morning. My car was intact at that point. When we woke up this morning, this is the state it was in.”

I watched as one officer took photos of the car from various angles. My mom came outside and stood off to the side to listen.

“I see,” Detective Wallace hummed. “You didn’t do this yourself?”

I frowned. “Why the fuck would I do this to my car?”

He shrugged. “Insurance claims. Maybe you are having some money troubles.”

“I didn’t do this to my car.”

“What about enemies? Maybe some of your gang-related activities has made you a target.”

My mom spoke in Russian. “What kind of idiot is this man?”

I responded in Russian back. “He thinks I’m breaking the law. He’s the one who had my house searched.”

“Then tell this pig to get off your driveway.”

Detective Wallace looked between us. “Speak English, please.”

“My mother doesn’t speak English. She only speaks Russian. She is afraid, and she wants to know when you will arrest the person who did this.”

Detective Wallace nodded. “Tell her we will have Vancouver’s finest working to find the perpetrator and we will do everything possible to keep the streets safe.”

I said to my mom, in Russian, “He’s taken a special interest in Andrusha. He’s like a dog with a bone.”

She responded, “He’s a fat fool.”

I looked at the detective, who stood waiting with a self-satisfied smile on his face. “She’s grateful for everything you are doing for us.”

He nodded in satisfaction. “We will give you a report number and it will be ready to download for insurance within twenty-four hours.”


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