All Chapters of Owned on the Ice M/M Romance: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

Milo’s voice was low and certain as he looked up at Ethan. “I want to taste you properly,” he said. “I didn’t get to do it for very long last time… and I’ve never done this with anyone else.”Ethan’s vision blurred for a moment.Milo’s reckless words rattled him like an earthquake.No one had ever made it feel like a confession and a command all at once. Ethan’s grip in Milo’s hair tightened, his jaw slack with shock and hunger as he stared down at him.“Christ, Milo…” The words tore out of him, half-groan, half-prayer.The sight of him wrecked and eager on his knees, lips wet, eyes bright with mischief and want, broke something in Ethan. He had always been the one in control, the one dictating the pace, but now all he could do was feel. Submit. Let Milo take what he wanted.“God, you’re gonna kill me,” Ethan rasped, hips stuttering as Milo’s mouth moved in a rhythm that made stars burst behind his eyelids.Milo hummed low in his throat, like he was pleased with himself, like he knew

The day blurred into the hum of travel.The Stormriders were on the move again, but there was no game looming that night. The bus ride felt different. Lighter. Quieter. Guys leaned back in their seats, earbuds in or dozing off, their bodies finally catching a break after the brutal stretch of games and the adrenaline crash of the Vultures matchup.Milo watched the landscape slide by through the window, his phone idle in his lap. There was a strange comfort in the monotony, in the shared exhaustion of the team.Their route happened to take them through Crestwick late in the evening.For the other guys, tonight meant a few precious hours to sleep in their own beds before the next road push. Not a day off, exactly, just a rare evening of familiarity and silence.For Milo, it meant something else.He’d be seeing the hotel room the team had arranged for him, his temporary landing spot while he figured out his relocation. He wasn’t going home. He didn’t have one in this city yet. But the th

Ethan jerked back first, head whipping toward the sound. Milo’s heart thudded as he scrambled off the counter, straightening his shirt and running a hand through his hair. He thought Ethan lived alone. Maybe he had a roommate?Then a young, impatient voice rang out. “Dad!?”Milo froze.Ethan’s jaw tightened, tension etched across his face as he ran a hand through his dark hair. More banging noises came from the entrance.“Help yourself to a beer in the fridge,” Ethan said quickly, voice low. “Or anything else. I’ll… be right back.”“Dad!” the voice called again.Ethan stalked out of the kitchen.Milo lingered near the door, curiosity gnawing at him. He peeked discreetly around the corner and saw Ethan facing a boy who looked like a smaller version of him, maybe nine or ten, scuffed sneakers and a defiant slouch.“Caleb,” Ethan said, his voice firm, “we don’t slam doors and kick our shoes at the wall.”Caleb kicked at the baseboard anyway, his mouth twisting into a petulant scowl. “Why

The doorbell’s chime had barely faded before Ethan returned with a stack of pizza boxes in his arms. The warm smell of melted cheese and oregano drifted through the living room, making Milo’s stomach grumble.“Caleb!” Ethan called toward the stairs. “Pizza’s here!”He headed for the kitchen, and Milo instinctively stood to follow. The soft thud of the boxes and the faint clatter of plates filled the air. “Do you need any help?” he asked, watching Ethan disappear with the boxes.“I’ve got it,” Ethan said easily, already reaching for plates and napkins. Milo caught a glimpse of his strong forearms flexing as he moved, the overhead light glinting in his dark hair.Milo hesitated, then nodded and drifted back toward the couch. He let his eyes wander to the muted game highlights on the TV, the soft flicker and low hum filling the cozy room. He traced a finger along the couch seam, fidgeting while he listened to the distant clink of dishes. When Milo glanced back toward the TV again, he ne

Milo woke to the soft weight of an arm across his waist and the slow rise and fall of Ethan’s chest against his back. The room was bathed in pale morning light filtering through the curtains, painting everything in a muted gold. For a moment, he just lay there, listening to the quiet of the house. The hum of the furnace, the distant creak of pipes, and the steady, comforting rhythm of Ethan’s breathing.It felt warm and safe in a way Milo wasn’t used to, and for a fleeting second, he let himself imagine this as something normal. Waking up like this, in a bed that smelled like Ethan, with sunlight and silence. A soft domestic scene that tugged at something deep in his chest.Ethan murmured something half-asleep, his arm tightening around Milo’s middle. Milo froze, heart thudding, and then gently pried his way free, sitting up on the edge of the bed. He couldn’t stay here. Not when Caleb might wake up and find them like this.He grabbed his washbag and tiptoed to the door, glancing ba