Todos os capítulos de Owned on the Ice M/M Romance: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

Noah woke with the weight of the previous night still clinging to his skin.The sheets were twisted around his legs, the pillow beneath his head damp with sweat. For a second, he just lay there, staring up at the ceiling of his hotel room, his heart ticking in his chest like it had been wound too tight. The memories from the steam room came back in flashes. Heat. Hands. That terrifying, magnetic closeness. The taste of tension. The way Sterling looked at him.And the way Noah had looked back.He squeezed his eyes shut and dragged a hand over his face.What the hell had that been?It felt like a fever dream. Like something conjured in the haze of too much sweat, too much steam, too many thoughts that had no business being entertained.He sat up slowly, resting his elbows on his knees, willing his breath to calm.His cock stirred slightly at the memory. Just one mental replay of Sterling's hands and that stare, and it was like his body had no sense of reason. Arousal unfurled low and sl

The girl’s laugh echoed around the dark lot as they stumbled against the side of Noah’s pickup truck, mouths still fused together, her hands in his hair.Noah reached behind her blindly, patting for the handle of his bag tossed in the cab. Somewhere in there was his phone, his ride app already pulled up. He could still feel the buzz of the bar clinging to his skin, the heat of too many eyes, too many drinks, too much attention.“You’re so hot,” she murmured breathlessly, fingers slipping beneath the hem of his shirt. “Come on. Just get in the truck.”Noah smirked, dropping the bag with a thud. “Yeah, alright.”They climbed into the backseat, the cab door slamming shut behind them. The space was cramped, the windows already fogging as their mouths found each other again, more urgent this time, more desperate. She straddled him, her hands roaming with growing confidence.Noah barely noticed anything beyond her body pressed against his, her perfume thick and sweet. The haze of desire fog

Sterling came in silence.Fist tight around his cock, forehead braced against the cold tile of his bathroom wall, teeth clenched as the orgasm ripped through him. It wasn’t satisfying. It wasn’t even real relief. It was tension leaving his body because it had nowhere else to go.He saw Noah’s mouth every time he blinked.That perfect, defiant expression. The heat. The way he groaned. Low, broken, like it hurt just to feel that much. The way his foot pressed against him without hesitation, like he wanted to unravel him.Sterling grunted, letting his hand fall away, cum smeared across his abs. He didn’t bother cleaning it yet. He stood there, chest heaving, jaw tight, trying to remember how the hell he’d let it get this far.He wasn’t impulsive anymore. Wasn’t reckless.And yet he’d dropped to his knees in the back of a truck, sucked off a player on his own team, and left like a coward.Fucking brilliant.He turned the shower on, stepping under the freezing water like it could knock the

Sterling sat up slowly, muscles rippling with the motion.The white towel pooled low around his hips, exposing a chiseled V of muscle that carved sharply between his hipbones. A faint trail of dark hair disappeared beneath the towel—masculine, coarse, and distractingly real. It made Noah's pulse spike.He shouldn't be noticing that. Shouldn't feel his cock stir just from the sight of a happy trail.But there it was, and it did.Noah tried to remember why he'd come here in the first place. He felt strangely off-balance. Aroused in a way he didn’t understand, as if every inch of Sterling’s body was designed to fuck with his control. Everything drew his attention beneath the towel. An invitation Noah couldn’t afford to look at, let alone want.But he looked anyway.His mouth went dry.Sterling didn’t break eye contact. Dark, sharp, and unreadable, but full of something electric. They weren’t just watching. They were holding him there, locking him in place with a heat that burned too quie

The taste lingered.Noah could still feel it ghosted on his tongue, in the back of his throat, like the heat of Sterling’s body had branded something inside him. He downed two bottles of water before morning practice, rinsed with mouthwash twice, and still it clung to him. Not unpleasant. Just... there. Like Sterling hadn’t left.His limbs ached from the previous day’s drills. Or maybe from the adrenaline still simmering under his skin. Coach Jensen pulled him aside early and ran him through one-on-one sessions for most of the morning. Tight corner work, shot accuracy, resistance drills until his legs felt like fire and his shoulders buzzed with strain.Still, it wasn’t enough to distract him.Every time he circled back around the rink, he’d catch his tongue pressing to the roof of his mouth, searching for the flavor like it had something to say. And every time he looked up toward the glass-paneled offices above the ice, he knew exactly what he was hoping to see.Sterling.Three times