Chapter 8 Breaking Point
Rafe’s POV
Shawn’s eyes finally lifted to mine, and for a second I thought he might actually give me a damn answer. Then his control snapped.
He shoved me.
Hard.
Both hands slammed into my chest, driving me back against the cold concrete wall of the locker room. The impact knocked the breath out of me, my helmet clattering to the floor.
Pain flared across my ribs where he’d hit me earlier on the ice, but I didn’t care. I shoved him back—harder, my fingers gripping the fabric of his jersey.
“Get the fuck out of my way, Navarro,” he growled, his voice echoing through the entire locker room.
“I’m not getting out of your way till you give me an fucking explanation, Captain.” I shot back, shoving him again, and again until our bodies collided—chest to chest, rage and something darker crashing together.
He grabbed the front of my jersey, yanking me forward so our faces were inches apart now. “You think you can talk to me anyhow you like, huh?” His breath was hot against my mouth. “After everything?”
“After everything?” A bitter laughter escapes through me. “You mean after we almost fucked each other like we were dying for it and then suddenly you walked away like I was trash?”
His knuckles brushed my throat, and I felt pulse racing under my own hands—fast, unsteady, matching mine.
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he said, voice dropping to something raw and broken.
“Oh…I don’t?”
I shoved him again—this time backing him against the opposite wall. His back hit concrete with a thud, and our helmets rolled away, forgotten. But Shawn didn’t push back this time.
Before I can realize anything, one of his hands fisted in my hair, yanking my head back. The other gripped my hip, pulling me flush against him.
His mouth crashed down on mine, nothing sweet or gentle about it. He growled into my mouth and shoved his thigh between mine, pressing up against my cock in one brutal grind.
I moaned—loud, shameless, my hips pushing forward to catch up with the pressure as his hand slid under my jersey. He shoves me back against the wall again—harder this time, pinning me at a place with his body.
His cock was rock-hard against my thigh, grinding so hard through his gear that I could feel the damp heat even through layers of padding.
“Fuck you,” Calder.” I gasped against his lips.
“I’m already doing that,” he growled back.
Before I can open my mouth to say more, he rolls his hips, grinding his cock against mine in a punishing rhythm that I could feel every inch of him—thick, hot. Pre-cum soaked through both our jocks, making every slide wetter, filthier.
I reached down without hesitation, fumbling with his pants, trying to get them. Shawn did the same, yanking my shorts down just enough to free my cock. It slapped against my stomach, hard and thick as his hand wrapped around both of us—stroking hard and fast.
“Fu…fuck,” the shameless moan tore out of my mouth, but Shawn swallowed the sound, kissing me deeper, dirtier. His other hand gripped my ass, pulling me closer, and grinding harder. We were struggling against each other like animals now, nothing but pure rage and desire.
“I know you’ve wanted this, Navarro,” he rasped against my throat. “You wanted me to fuck you right there on the ice. In front of everyone.”
“Maybe you should’ve,” I panted, my hips grinding harder between his thighs. “Should’ve bent me over the bench and fucked me hard.”
“You think you can handle me?” He shot back, grinding slowly and punishing, his cock sliding along mine in long, filthy drags. “Think you can take this dick without crying for it?”
A humourless laughter vibrates through my chest the moment he says those words— breathless, taunting. “I’ll take every inch of you, Captain. So why don’t you stretch me open right here and fill me up until I’m dripping with you…make me scream your name so loud the whole team hears.”
“Keep talking like that,” he bit down on my neck—hard enough to bruise, then licked the mark like he was claiming it. “And I’ll bend you over right now. Fuck you raw against this wall until you can’t walk, until you forget every word except my name.”
Our cocks slid faster now, and I could feel him pulsing against me, thickening, the thick head of his shaft bumping mine with every grind.
“Fuck yes,” I panted, my nails raking down his back. “Do it. Fuck so hard I won’t be able to play for a whole season.”
He flinched a though the words snapped something inside him. Then his hand slid between us, wrapping around both cocks—tight, rough, stroking fast. His thumb smeared pre-cum over the heads, making every slide slicker, hotter.
“I’m going to fuckin cum all over you,” he growled, voice trembling with restraint. “Gonna paint your whole body in my cum…and make you wear it under your jersey so you remember who owns this cock.”
I arched into his grip, my thighs shaking as his hands began to stroke my cock much faster now. “Do it. Cum on me, then flip me around and fuck your load back inside. Fill me until it leaks down my thighs.”
He was right there—on the edge, his body trembling uncontrollably, his cock swelling impossibly thicker in my hand.
“Cum for me, Captain,” I leaned in, my lips brushing his ear. “Show me how bad you want to punish me.”
His hips stuttered once—twice—
Then—
BAM!
The locker room door slammed open with such force that it rattled through the walls.
“Shawn?” A girl’s voice cut through the heated moment like a knife.
We froze.
Shawn’s hand remained still on our cocks, his forehead dropped to my shoulder, his body still shaking with an effort to force himself not to cum on me.
“I heard yelling,” she continued as she stepped further inside, heels clicking on the polished marble floor.
“W…what’s going on here?”