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cellythefloshie · 1 year

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;; Treat You Right Chapter Fifteen of the Road Wife Series

Table of Contents 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Summary: The Tampa Bay Lighting take a quick single-game road trip to Dallas, and with your empty calendar you're finally able to address what happened between you and Tony. NOTE: Surprises bitches (I say endearingly)! I'm dropping this early. The boys need all the support I can give them today. So this will just have to do. Kinks & TW: sex work, dry humping, hickeys/marking, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, went pretty vanilla with this one, more feelings than we are used to. Word Count: 7700+

TAGLIST: @equallyshaw , @charles11700 , @starshine-hockey-girl , @swissboyhisch , @wingedwheelprxncess , @luvmmarner , @fandomrejects

The team remained in Tampa for only a brief time after their longest road trip of the season. They were granted five days at home, just long enough to play Nashville in a short series of two games where each team was left with a single win. Then the team took the skies again, arriving in Dallas for a single game. They had arrived mid-day after a brief 2-hour flight. The single-game road trip had almost been enough to have you staying behind in Tampa as the team had planned to fly home after the game, but when the team was forced to book rooms for the night at a Dallas hotel that had started to feel more like home than your own appointment you had packed your bags and met the team on the tarmac.

With the late landing giving you only a few hours before the game, your calendar was clear. Not a single appointment was on your calendar for the duration of the trip, and while it left you feeling they had wasted a seat on the plane on you, your company was always welcome. Especially as it came to be game time and you retired to the suite that looked over the rink. It was a box reserved for the Lightning organization, with enough seats for their social media team as well as the players that were scratched for the night. It wasn’t very often you enjoyed the company of the players during game time, the demands of keeping up appearances often consumed you. So you welcomed the opportunity to get to know those who were scratched or occupied the taxi squad. That night, Volcov, Alex Barre-Boulet, Gemel Smith, Luke Schenn, Andreas Borgman, Ben Thomas, and Chris Gibson occupied the suite. You sat among them with your laptop open on the table, casually working as the game played out below.

The first period was a quiet one. With the expedition of a single goal at 3:55 scored by Brayden Point, his 11th of the season was assisted by Palat and Cirelli. Not even a single penalty was called. It may have been one of the quickest periods of hockey you had watched.

The game really came to life in the second period as it was kicked off with an interference call against Palat. The Bolts were successful in the penalty kill, and minutes later the Stars themselves took a penalty for delay of game as they sent the puck over the glass. The Bolts were unsuccessful in their power play as well. It wasn’t long before the Stars tied the game with a goal of their own. A power-play goal was scored by Miro Heiskanan after Cal Foote had hooked Alexander Rudulov. It looked as if the game may go into the second intermission 1-1, but before the period could come to an end Mathieu Joseph had given the Bolts a 2-1 with assists from Maroon and Colton.

It left morale high and the taxi squad boys rowdy as they stood up from their seats to indulge themselves in refreshments and conversation - but they could only be entertained by themselves for so long.

Feeling an arm drape over the back of your chair you looked away from your computer screen and up to the player that was casually demanding your attention with the careful graze of his large hand against your back. You were greeted with the sweet smirk of Luke Schenn as his thumb traced circles around your back absentmindedly, “We’re going to head down to the locker room for the intermission, check in on the boys, hype them up for the third. Did you want to come?”

“You guys go on ahead, I’ve got to wrap some things up,” you assured him with a smile of your own.

“You work too hard,” he punctuated the sentence with your name, his hand stroking over the breadth of a single shoulder before giving it a gentle squeeze, “we won’t be long.”

“I’ll be here,” you assured him and watched as the boys left, leaving you alone in the box suite. For a short time, you let yourself become enthralled by your screen. You made quick work of your task before you closed the laptop and tucked it away in its bag. Now, you could really enjoy the rest of your night. You abandoned the barstool-like chair that had been set at one of the cocktail tables and indulged in the mini bar and snacks that were left in the suite. You knew you really shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t let it go to waste. With refreshments in hand, you found a more comfortable seat along the edge of the suite. The comfort was welcome as you nearly melted into your seat. Your head leaned back against the seat, your eyes falling shut as you took in a heavy relaxed breath and took in the sounds that were as close as you were going to get to silence: the chatter of the fans in attendance and the entertainment played up on the jumbotron. And while it was loud, one thing was louder: the voice of a stranger.

“You’re new.”

Their words left you lurching in your seat, your drink spilling over your lap as you dropped it to reach for the armrest. Your heart thundered in your chest as you tried to recover your drink, putting it aside before you turned towards the source of the sound. In the doorway of the suite was none other than Tyler Seguin.

“And you’re lost,” you quipped from your seat and made no effort to make any formal introductions with your unexpected visitor.

Seguin had been on the Stars Injured Reserve list since the end of the 2020-2021 season having torn the labrum in his hip sometime during the playoff run - the playoffs that had the Bolts hoisting the cup for the first time since 2004. While Seguin had been very much out of the spotlight during his recovery, it didn’t seem to stop him from being there for his team off the ice. He stood in the doorway dressed in a burgundy suit that left you feeling underdressed even though you too were dressed in business attire. Your eyes were drawn to it, and how his blazar opened as she reached a hand up to brace himself against the top of the door frame. It left you to admire how his tie had become loose as the night had gone on, and his shirt was loose fitting as he had come to unbutton the one button that would have left it tight across his chest and his tie hung loose and lazily over his chest.

Tyler wasn’t dressed for business, that portion of his night had ended, and now he was looking to cause trouble and it had led him to you - but something told you that it wasn’t you that he had been looking for.

“I have to say, not many people complain when I walk into a room,” Tyler was charming and witty as he left the doorway and made his way into the suite. He grazed over the refreshments, picking up a sweet snack for himself on his way to the row of seats you occupied, more specifically the seat right beside you. “The last girl, Ella, she was much more welcoming…”

Ella. The slip of the woman’s name from his lips and repeated, echoed, haunted each of your thoughts as they raced through your mind. Not once before had you heard this time, and yet it made your skin crawl. Your mind spirals further when you let yourself really hear what Seguin had just said. The last girl. When you joined the media team, you had been filling a void, one that had been vacated at the end of the 2018-2019 season. Surely, Seguin was referring to the young woman who once worked for the media team - but one thought did not leave you: Had Ella been the first wife?

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your heart pounding in your chest so hard you could hear it up into your ears as you reached down to grip the armrest tightly. Against your fingers, you could feel the warmth of Seguin’s body as he made himself comfortable. He spread his legs so that he could slouch casually as if he had sat beside you many times before, and he went as far as to have his knee come to rest against your own. You shifted away at the touch, but it only left him smiling - and that smile only seemed to grow as he leaned closer to you as if he had something to say, but you didn’t let him speak, not yet.

“Don’t you have someone else you can entertain?” you bit out, and you felt the warmth of his laughter against your cheek.

“Just doing my rounds, it’s good publicity-”

“It’s good publicity to bother the visitor’s media team?” You challenged him, letting your gaze meet his for the first time since he had sat down. His features were uncomfortably close. Every breath that escaped him could be felt on your face, and you could see every detail of his face from the warmth of his eyes to the quirk of his smile that told you that this man was more trouble than you could allow. Seguin was easily one of the most sought-after men in the NHL, and you had his undelivered attention. It made you uncomfortable in all the best ways, and you hated it - and what you hated more was the fact that any other woman would have killed to be in your position.

“No this, this was just the last spot on my stop. A courtesy stop really, because it’s usually a group of boring men in here taking notes, wanting to ask too many questions - but the Bolts,” his low laughter punctuated his sentence as he dropped his voice into a low, alluring whisper, “they like to keep an attractive staff… I must say, you’re ever more pretty than the last one - though, she was a lot more fun.”

You held your breath as you felt Seguin's warmth encroach on you, his fit frame leaning in slightly over the armrest that divided you. Then came the touch of his hand on the collar of your shirt, tugging it away just enough for his thick fingers to drag over the sensitive mark on your neck that had been left there by Brayden during your flight to Detroit on the last road trip.

“Though, they seem to be having their fun with you…” his words sent a shiver down your spine as your suspicions seemed to be all but confirmed. Whoever Ella was, wife or not, Seguin had taken a liking to her. She was the reason he was in this booth, with his suit relaxed and oozing with charm. If it had been another time, another place, it might have worked on you - but you were loyal to the team, and part of the team was walking right back through the suite door.

“You seem to be lost, Seguin,” came Luke’s voice after the shuffling of footsteps.

It drew your eyes back to the taxi squad, the sight of them bringing you a moment of relief. You’d never been happier to see them and it brought a smile to your features. As you smiled, Tyler laughed. He was far from intimidated by the likes of them, and instead of retreating he was leaning in to whisper in your ear to confirm all of your suspicions. “If you find that you’re up for a little fun after you take care of your boys tonight, give me a call.”

Your smile faded as you felt his hand graze up against yours, his hot touch lingering for but a moment as he handed off a slip of paper to you. You didn’t need to look at it to know that his number was written across it. You balled it up in your fist, your gaze hardening as he stood up from his seat, satisfied. His message had been delivered, and with his unwanted audience, it was time for him to leave.

“Enjoy the rest of the game boys,” Tyler gave them a cocky wave on his way out the door, but the boys paid no mind to him.

The taxi squad had already turned all their attention to Luke, who lingered the closest to the doorway to make sure Seguin didn’t try to linger. He went as far as to look out into the hallway before looking back at his teammates, the clock that counted down the intermission, and at you before he was calling the shots.

“Volcov, Boulet - run downstairs, you’ve got a few before the period starts. Get the captain’s attention and let him know what happens,” the rush of words from his lips only fueled the feeling of urgency that bubbled in the depths of your stomach.

It had you pushing yourself out of your seat and crossing your arms over your chest nervously. Then, you approached Luke who was turning his back on Volkov and Barre-Boulet. and turning his attention to you, “Hey,” his words were softly spoken as he reached out with both hands to take hold of your arms carefully, “you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you assured him, but your grip on the paper was growing tighter as you cast your glance downwards and spoke, “I tried to get him to leave…”

Your arms were left void of the heat of his touch as Luke reached up and took your chin between his thumb and forefinger. His gentle hold tilted your head back, his guidance forcing you to look up at him as he towered over you. Luke had never been an intimidating guy, and that didn’t change as he looked down at you with nothing but reassurance in his eyes.

Your name slipped over his tongue as smooth as velvet then he spoke, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Someone should have been here-”

“You guys didn’t know he would be coming by, he’s on their long-term injured reserve…” As you spoke Luke traced his thumb along the angles of your chin and jaw slowly, his touch distracting as you tried to reassure him in return, “He wasn’t supposed to be here.”

“And he won’t be back,” Volkov cut in as he and Barre-Boulet returned to the suite.

“You guys reach the captain?” Luke hummed as he let his hands fall from the smooth skin of your features.

“He knows. The whole bench knows.”

“Good, that might just be the fire they needed to get through the game,” Luke nodded and moved to take his seat as the third period began behind him - but you didn’t let him get too far.

“Wait-” Your hand was quick to reach out for his, your careful hold transferring the slip of paper from your hold to his, “take this, I don’t want it.”

Luke took the slip from you, spreading out its wrinkles and its fold and taking in the sight of the numbers written in a messy scrawl. You had gripped it so tightly it threatened to rip under the stroke of his thumb, not that it would have mattered if it had as Luke was quick to dispose of it in the trash.

“You would think the man’s run out of women in Dallas if he’s gotta come in here and try to steal our girl,” Luke tries to put you at ease with a semblance of a joke, his arm coming to drape around your shoulders to guide you back to your seat. Together you sat with the rest of the taxi squad and watched as the third period unfolded on the ice below.

To start the period, it had been evenly matched with each team having their opportunities to get more points on the board - but the goaltenders were quick to snuff out any attempt. It was near halfway through the period when frustrations festered and the Bolts took a bench minor for too many men. It left you on the edge of your seat, your hand reaching out to squeeze Luke’s knee each time the Stars had a semblance of a scoring chance. You were put at ease when the boys pulled through and killed the penalty and later drew one from the Stars when Colton took a stick up high. It was on that power play the Bolts went up 3-1 with a goal from the Captain himself. He had heard the message back in the locker room and had sent one himself. They were determined to win.

The efforts, however, almost seemed for not as the Stars were quick to come back in the final three minutes of the game with goals from Benn and Rudalov. The 3-3 score going into overtime left a sinking feeling in your stomach. Each passing second filled you with anxiety. The boys needed to win. Not for the standings. Not because it was a rematch of the previous year's Stanley Cup Final, but because of the message they were trying to send.

Overtime wouldn’t be enough for the two teams that had become one of the season’s biggest rivalries, as after five minutes of play the score remained the same. The game would be sent to a shootout.

Your anxieties only grew as you stood up from your seat and leaned up against the edge of the suite. You couldn’t just sit back and enjoy the game, not when sitting still felt impossible. You watched as the ice was cleared and the players took their seats on the bench. One by one they would take the ice, and up first, Jason Robertson. He was their rookie, and a hell of a good one too, which is why it didn’t surprise you when the puck met the back of the net almost effortlessly. With that goal, your stomach sank, your gaze flashing towards the squad in your company as they watched from their seats as Tampa sent out their first skater.

“Ross?” You hadn’t meant to let his name slip from your lips at the sight of him down on the ice. You knew all too well that this was his first-ever shoot-out attempt with the team, and that in no way put you at ease. Cooper should have been sending out Pointer, Stamkos, or Killorn - the big guns when it came to your shoot-out, and yet Cooper was choosing to send out the rookie. No one would really know how he would make such an attempt, and with being as new to the league as he was the only players that would know his style of player were his teammates.

You found yourself holding your breath as Ross skated in from center ice. His movements were quick, smooth, and effortless and his puck too found the back of the net. There was no containing your excitement at that moment as you shot up and let out a cheer that you were sure could be heard down on the benches as the rest of the 3,000 in attendance had been rendered to silence.

The shootout would require three more shooters. First, the Stars sent out Pavelski whose shot would be saved. Then, the Bolts sent out Pointer whose shot would give the team the 2-1 advantage over the Stars going into who would be their final shooter. Rudalov would take the ice only to his a for his attempt to be snuffed out by Vasilevsky.

It was a game worth celebrating, and yet as the hour drew late in the comfort of your hotel room you did not receive a single notification. It left you sprawled out across the bed, expression perplexed, as you pulled up your calendar and scrolled through the hours. Not a single appointment was scheduled, not that you could blame them. The team would be on a flight home come morning and the players returned to their wives before noon.

Back during the lengthy 11-day road trip, that had you visiting 3 different cities, you wouldn’t have complained about getting to go to bed alone. Tonight, however, your mind threatened to spiral down the depths of the rabbit hole that was Ella, and you didn’t want to sleep alone.

Your fingers were quick to fall on your contacts, your thumb scrolling through the players in your phone who were merely identified by their jersey number. Lips curled up into a tired smile as your thumb selected contact #71 and typed out a quick message: You still up?

The mere appearance of the ellipses as he typed was enough to have you moving for your bag that rested untouched in the armchair by the door. You didn’t need to dig through it to find what you were looking for, Cirelli’s sweatshirt had been the last thing you packed leaving it resting on top. You had been meaning to get it back to him but hadn’t yet found the opportunity - until now. Pulling it on over your head, you moved out into the hallway, and with a quick glance down at your phone you knew which room was your destination.

You kept your head down as you moved through the hall, your strides quick and quiet as you snuck down the hall to Cirelli’s room. You didn’t have to knock when you arrived as Cirelli was waiting on the other side to ensure you weren’t waiting out in the hallway. While the two of you weren’t breaking any rules, you both acted with caution - especially since this was the first time you would be alone with him since the incident at the practice facility twenty days prior.

It was all you could think about at the sight of him as the hotel room door was shut behind you. Its lock engaging was a mere echo in your mind as your eyes became fixated on the grasp of his hands around the handle. You thought of his hands often, an invading thought of how they felt tracing along your body, holding you, guiding you, fucking you. You hesitated in the doorway, your mind a mess as your hands balled the end of the too-long sleeves in your fists in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. Even Tony’s words were lost on you, and it was the touch of his hand against your arm that pulled you back to reality.

“Everything okay?” Tony raised a brow, his large hand giving your tricep and careful squeeze.

“Yeah, I’m great actually,” you smiled up at him and directed your dazed stare up at his features. You must have caught him just before bed, his hair was a mess and he stood in nothing more than a pair of loose lounge pants. “My calendar is clear, and I was hoping that maybe we could watch a movie or something like we used to…”

Tony’s touch left you, his hand raising to card through his thick curls as he glanced back towards his bed and the tv, “you get comfy, I’ll get it all set up,” he smiled in return before taking his lazy strides towards the television, “what do you want to watch?”

“I’m not picky, really,” you assured him as you crawled up the length of his bed and settled yourself among the comfort of the pillows. You left them for but a moment to place your phone face down on the bedside table, but when you returned to their comfort you snuggled down into them. Your lips came to pout slightly when their scent was still reminiscent of the detergent used by the hotel and nothing like Tony's. It was one of the downsides of only being in the hotel for a single night.

“Then you’re getting a Netflix classic,” he smirked, putting on one of the platform's most popular comedy series. You were sure Tony had probably seen each of their episodes many times, but it would be the perfect background noise.

The bed shifted as Tony climbed into his spot beside you, and the two of you were quick to fall into old habits. His arm wrapped around you without a thought, its strength drawing you closer as the familiar jingle of the show filled the room. You could feel his thumb stroking over its familiar path along the length of your arm that was concealed by his sweater and as you snuggled a little bit closer you could feel his every breath. The warmth of his body in turn warmed you, and soon you found yourself snuggling in just a little bit closer - your hand was on his chest and you draped a single leg over his. His body was a familiar comfort, one that you hadn’t realized you had missed until he was consuming every single one of your senses but your tongue - and you were ready to change that. Leaning your head back you smiled up at Tony who was quick to meet your gaze. This wasn’t the same look you had given him all those nights ago in Nashville. There was no nervousness, no shame, and no reason for him to think he wasn’t allowed to kiss you. Yet, Tony hesitated.

Raising his hand, Tony stroked over the smoke skiing off your cheek, his head shaking slowly from side to side as he let out a heavy breath that became your name on his lips. It sent a sinking feeling deep in your stomach, one that had you pulling away from his hold and pushing up to kneel in front of him on the bed.

“What’s wrong, Tony?”

Your mouth went dry with worry, your hands slipping into the sleeves of his sweater that you wore just enough to grip at the fabric. It was a simple act to try to keep your mind from racing as your studied Tony’s features - but it was failing. You couldn’t stop your thoughts from sliding into worry. Had Tony decided that having any kind of relationship with you was too much?

“I want to talk to you about what happened,” his words were heavy, and you didn’t need an explanation to know what exactly he was speaking to. While you have that conversation in the hallway back in Chicago, Tony wanted to talk about your fight and the events that led to the two of you being caught by Cooper.

“There’s nothing to talk about-” You tried to shrug it off, but Tony was insistent.

“Don’t say that,” he sighed, his hand coming up to rake through his dark curls, “I’m not proud of what I did that day, and I need you to know that. I shouldn’t have done what I did that day - should have said what I said. I don’t want to sit here and make excuses but it’s fucking hard to sit back and watch this all happen. Watching you run off to your appointments with the rest of the time, and then there’s you and Ross-” Tony looked away when he said his teammate's name, a heavy breath shaking through his body as if it left a foul taste in his mouth.

“I know this isn’t the most ideal situation to be in,” you sighed, a hand reaching out for his carefully before giving it a reassuring squeeze, “and I wish that it didn’t have to be this way, and I understand if you don’t want to do this anymore-”

“No, no,” he spoke quickly yet softly, “that’s not- fuck that. I tried being distant after what we did and it didn’t make it any easier. I still had to sit back and watch it all happen, but worst of all I had to watch as you did everything we did together with someone else.” His head lulled forward, his dark curls falling into his eyes as he gripped your hand a little tighter, “I’m glad you’re here tonight, and I really am sorry for what I did. It wasn’t right-”

“Then make it right, Tony,” you told him firmly, and for a moment there was only silence that hung between you as his warm gaze raised to meet your own.

It was a silence that left you biting your lip as you leaned in a little closer to him, his hand coming back up to rest on your cheek as he moved away from the support of the headboard. His hand guided you in a little closer, and he was meeting you halfway as his lips came down on yours as if it were the first time back in Nashville again. It was a feather-light kiss, his lips dragging over yours slowly and coaxing a gasp from your lips. The kiss had been gentle, but it was only the beginning. The moment you reciprocated the kiss, Tony’s hands found your hips and pulled you into his lap.

You straddled him, your hands seeking out anything to clutch onto. Fingertips dragged over the muscles of his chest, and up over his shoulders. You didn’t stop until your fingers were knitted in the thick strands of his curls, tugging his neck back just enough to coax him into parting his lips further to allow you to taste his tongue. That alone was not enough to satisfy you, but instead only left you craving more of him. You didn’t have to tell Tony that, not with your words anyway. He could feel it in the motions of your body as you stroked down the back of his neck with the tips of your fingers, and how your lips began to roll in a slow rhythm against his thighs. With each rotation of your hips, the friction between your clothed core and his thigh sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, but it wouldn’t be enough to leave you satisfied.

Tony’s grip tightened on your hips, his fingers dragging in as he drew your hips forward so you rested higher on his lap - and it was there you could feel him between your legs. Stiff and ready for you, yet Tony didn’t rush things. He guided you over him slowly, the eagerness of his cock pressing up into you as he kissed you deeply, slowly, without haste. Tony had a hunger for you, but he was going to enjoy you like a satisfying meal instead of a late-night binge that would only leave you with an insatiable hunger for more.

When your body had fallen into the rhythm set out by his guidance, Tony’s hands began to wander. His touch moved over your waist, wrinkling his sweater as he pushed it up. The friction between the fabrics had your shirt peeling off with it as you listed your hands up and pulled back from his lips just enough for Tony to remove the layers from your body. The rush of your fabric over your ears was almost enough to disorient you as your head was already spinning with pleasure, and it left you whining as Tony’s lips failed to return to yours. With your skin exposed to him now, Tony wanted to explore it.

His mouth was on your neck when his strong-armed wrapped around you, hoisting you up from his lap to lay you out on the bed. Tony moved with you, his lips never once leaving your skin. He placed slow and sloppy open-mouthed kisses along the angle of your neck, leaving a hot trail of saliva to be cooled by the air as his mouth made its descent. Down your body his mouth travelled, his lips embracing your body with his careful kiss. They had first graced your collarbone, following its subtle angle down to the swell of your breast. He lingered there, focusing on one and then the other to assure he would leave his mark before kissing down between their valley and over the gore of your bra. From there he peppered kisses down the length of your stomach and only stopped when he hit the waistline of your pants.

It was there he hesitated, leaning his head back just enough to look up at you through the curls that had fallen down into his face - silently asking you for permission to continue on the off chance that you wanted him to stop. You nodded quickly in response, your own hands going to your pants to push them from your body as Tony made quick work of his own clothes. They were tossed into a heap on the floor with your own, before he was back in the bed and finding his place between your thighs. Tony braced himself over you, his hand pressing firm into the mattress beside your head as he reached the other down between your legs. Two fingers brushed over your clit, a teasing graze that left your hips wiggling, before they traced over your entryway that was slick with your need for him. You watched as his jaw slacked at just how effortlessly he was able to slide two fingers into your core with your arousal, a ghost of a moan on his lips as he coaxed one from your own lips.

Each plunge of his fingers inside your cunt was enough to leave you reeling, your teeth coming down to bite at your lower lip until it throbbed. You needed to be quiet. Your calendar was empty, and if anyone overheard you, there would be far too many questions to answer - but it was quickly becoming too much to contain. With both hands you reached up, your careful touch meeting his face as you guided him back down to your lips. As they met in a slow, opened-mouth kiss, you used it to muffle the moan that had so desperately wanted to escape.

“Tony,” you muttered his name softly against his lips before your words became a begging plea, “Tony, please. I want to come around your cock, not your fingers-”

Tony shuttered between your legs at your words, and he released a heavy breath that washed over your face in a blossom of heat. His lips were left to merely graze yours as he ease your fingers from your core. You held his gaze as you felt him working between your legs to grasp at his cock and soon he was dragging the head of his cock up and down the slick arousal of your cunt. He guided it up and down, then up and down again before he was guiding his cock inside you with his hand and the careful pressure of his hips. His fingers had primed you, and yet his cock continued to spread your walls with his careful thrust. Tony had thrust into you abruptly like he had the first time he had fucked you. No, this time he was gentle as he guided his cock in merely halfway. It was then he began his careful thrusts, easing himself in another inch at a time as your core allowed.

Soon, Tony had fallen into a steady rhythm, his thrust slow and firm as he plunged into your core until he was balls deep. He took his time with you, his thrusts not hesitant but meticulous as were the rest of his caresses and kisses as he fucked you. Tony refused to lose control, to fall into the brash emotion of jealousy that had consumed him all those days ago when he had taken you for the first time. The graze of his touch, and strokes of his tongue each one of them had been selfless as he was driving to the brink of pleasure. This was how he wanted to fuck you for the first time, so sweet and tenderly, and he wasn’t going to stop until you were quivering around his cock.

Careful hands guided your legs up from the bed and let them wrap around his hips with ease. A low moan quaked through your body as he was able to ease in a little deeper now, and it left you digging your heels into his lower back. Your hips rolled to meet his every thrust and your head lulled back almost dreamily into the mattress that the pleasures of his cock began to consume you - but it wasn’t until you watched his own expression begin to falter. Tony’s blinks became long, and his breathing a little more laboured as his own climax began to wash over him - and you could feel him trying to resist. His thrusts became inconsistent and shallow and his eyes shut tight as he did all he could to fight it, but the touch of your hand against his cheek was quick to coax his eyes back open.

He stared down at you with an almost dazed look, his expression soft as the pressure of your heels guided him back inside you fully. “Don’t hold back, Tony,” you muttered, “I don’t have to be first,” your words were a reassuring breath as you flexed your core around him.

While your words softened his face once more, you could still feel the hesitation in each thrust. “Tony, I’m so close,” you did your best to encourage him, and your words weren’t untruthful. His every touch was bringing you closer and closer, your core on the very edge of your climax but it was craving one thing; “I want to feel it - I want to feel you come, Tony. Fill me up Tony, I’m yours-”

Your words were broken by a moan as Tony gripped your hips and thrust into you quickly. His pace hastened and he thrust in deeper than he had all night and he didn’t slow, not even as his cock began to twitch with pleasure and flooded your core with his cum. You could feel it as it consumed your core in waves, and oozed down along his cock as he fucked his own cum from you. It was the final push you needed to be thrown over the edge. Your legs began to tremble, your ankles locking to keep your legs from slipping down from his hips. Your body was consumed by your every uneven breath as you threw your head back into the mattress and your walls throbbed with pleasure around his cock, desperate to keep every bit of him inside you.

It was a pleasure that left you both smiling, Tony coming down to place playful kisses along your lips as you both plummeted from the highs of pleasure. It coaxed soft laughter from your lips as he eased himself from you, and came to lay beside you on the bed, the kisses never seizing but instead travelling over your cheeks and neck. It was only when Tony became consumed by the scent of you that he buried his face in your neck and let himself relish in it. You welcomed the feeling of his hot breath as it washed over your skin, the warmth aiding in bringing you calm and the threat of sleep was rapidly approaching.

Your head lulled into his carefully, your cheek resting against his soft curls as you took in a deep breath of your own. You wanted to fall asleep like that, with his body intertwined with yours - “Tony,” you hummed out, “can I sleep here tonight?”

Drawing back, Tony looked down at you with a soft expression, “of course you can.”

His hand came up to stroke your cheek slowly, and it felt as if it were just you and Tony in the world - and that you didn’t have 21 other men who needed your love and affection - and you intended to take advantage of every moment of it.

“I’m just gonna get cleaned up, and we should get some sleep, we have a flight early in the morning,” you told him softly as you pulled away from him, and your body protested the cold of the room in an instant. You wanted his touch, his warmth.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you reached over and picked up his sweater from the floor. It didn’t quite smell like him anymore, but it would keep you warm enough until you could crawl back into his bed. “I’ll just be a minute,” you assured and disappeared into the bathroom.

You let the water run and you used the bathroom, letting the temperature of the water reach what you liked before you washed your hands and splashed your face. It was a desperate attempt at your nightly routine that you had left behind in your room - but this would be sufficient enough, especially when you had Tony and sleep waiting for you - but when you returned to the main room Tony was not in the bed.

Brow furrowed as you looked from the bed to the tv screen that had gone black and finally to the bedroom door Tony stood dressed in his lounge pants and his back to you. You hadn’t heard a knock on the door, and you had half the mind to retreat back into the bedroom to hopefully go unseen but that idea was completely abandoned when Tony turned back to look at you, giving you a complete view of the player that stood beyond the door in the hallway: Ross.

He stood there almost awkwardly, his face absent of the smile that would send butterflies into your stomach. Instead, he wore a look of concern and in his hands, he held his phone the screen bright for Tony to see.

“What is going on?” you bit out in a harsh whisper as you moved into the main room and towards the door with little regard for the fact that you weren’t wearing any pants and that the remnants of Tony had begun to drip down the inside of your thighs.

You moved straight for the doorway, Tony moving out of your way as you reached out to take Ross by the arm. You tugged Ross into the privacy of the hotel room, assuring that the door closed firmly behind him. It was only then you reached for the phone, the screen almost blinding against your tired eyes. In big bold letters it had become clear as to why he had come looking for you, he had an appointment.

“Ross, this isn’t funny,” you sighed as you let your thumb drag down over the details of the appointment. He hadn’t made it from himself, why would he? He had no wife or girlfriend waiting for him back home, he didn’t need anyone’s permission to spend a night with you. No, this appointment was made only minutes ago on the captain's orders.

“I didn’t even know you were here,” Ross admitted, his words soft almost apologetic as he looked between you and Tony, “I was here to-”

“Ask for my permission?” Cirelli cut in, his voice pushing the edge of hostility.

“To tell you I wasn’t going to go through with it,” Ross clarified.

Tony shook his head slowly, a low laugh erupting from his throat as he leaned up against the wall to put some distance between him and Ross. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t about you, if you don’t do this-” He cut himself off as he raised a hand to run over his jaw, he didn’t like what he was about to say.

“What are you trying to say, Tony?” You pressed gently.

“You need to keep your appointment with Ross, and the captain needs to hear it.”

“Cirelli-” Ross started to protest, but you cut him off with your own.

“He’s right, Ross. The two of you have been at odds since the moment you got here because of me. You’re part of this team, and you don’t seem to be going anywhere. He needs to know that the two of you are willing to put everything behind you, and the only way he’s going to be able to see that is for this to happen.”

Your words hung heavily in the air as you moved from the doorway to the heap of clothes on the floor. You sorted through them quickly, pulling on your panties and your bottoms before grabbing your phone from the bedside table. Standing there, you looked down at your phone as you held it in your hands, your eyes fixated on the calendar notification that was meant to inform you of your appointment with Ross. Taking a steady breath, you found your composure and returned to the doorway where Ross waited almost anxiously.

He offered you a crooked smile as you returned to him, but his eyes were quick to return to Tony, “Are you sure? I don’t need to do this man-”

“I’m sure,” it was only with Tony’s assurance that a spark of excitement returned to Ross’ features, his lips quirking up at the corners. He wanted you, but he had been trying to put his teammate first. It almost brought Tony’ to laughter once more, his head shaking slowly, “you could at least try to hide the fact that you’re not disappointed.”

Ross could only manage a soft chuckle in response, his hand raising to rub modestly over the back of his neck. He could only play coy for so long.

“You are trouble, Ross Colton,” you told him firmly, tossing your phone at him before you turned to Tony and took him in your arms. You held him tight, your face resting against his chest as he craned to place a sweet kiss on the top of your head, “good night, Tony.”

“Good night,” he sighed your name into your hair before he let you go, his own hand reaching out to get the door for you and Ross. He watched as you both moved out into the hallway, but you had only made it a few steps before he was calling out after his teammate. The pair held a long glance, Tony’s softened expression meeting Colton’s which had grown bright at the prospect of getting to spend his night with you. Tony’s words were heavy and strained as he spoke out one last time before he could let you both go, “Colton, you treat her right.”

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