The Goalie's Girl (Yes, Daddy Book 19) by Lena Little

Author:Lena Little [Little, Lena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-01-27T18:30:00+00:00

6

Oliver

I kick the door shut behind us and march her straight to the four-poster bed that sits next to the cryogenic chamber I sometimes sleep in to recover after long matches. At thirty-nine years old I’m not getting any younger and need all the advantages I can get to keep up with the younger guys.

And I’ve just found the one advantage that tops all others. Her.

Tossing her on the bed, she scurries back to the headboard on her forearms, looking at me part in fear and part in anticipation. The only sound in the room is her breathing, but I can barely hear it as my heart is thumping so loud I can feel it in my chest and neck, and the vibrations pounding in my ears.

Being so close to her, even just for this one night we’ve shared, cements inside me how I never want her away from me, always by my side into eternity.

Keeping my gaze locked on her I move toward the dresser across the room from the bed. In addition to the bed and the cryogenic chamber, and a TV I study game tape on, and a high-back chair that faces the bed, it’s the only thing in my Spartan digs.

Removing two pairs of striped, knee-high team socks my strides eat up the marble floor beneath me as I close the distance between me and my princess who still looks like a scared kitten on the bed.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I promise. “That comes later…when you’re ready and if you agree. And it won’t be pain, only pleasure.”

“We’ll see.”

“Oh yes, we will.” A beat passes before I continue in a deep throaty growl. “Now be a good girl and turn over on all fours. Hands and knees, little one.”

“Okay,” she murmurs, my muscles tightening and it’s almost as if the tide turns and she feels a sense of control, as her eyes run up and down my body as she sees just how much power she has over me.

Once she’s in position I snare her ankle in my grasp and her head snaps around. She watches as I use one of the tube socks to tie a knot around her ankle and then secure it to the post. Being a hockey player I know how to tape a stick, an ankle, and just about anything else. Taping and knots damn near go hand in hand, and although this is nothing more than a sock it’s thick, meant for a sport and additionally, it provides compression. She’s not getting free anytime soon.

I move to the other side of the bed and repeat the action with her other ankle.

“Wha-what’s that?” she asks, the lack of confidence in her voice as if she’s not allowed to ask a question in regards to what I’m doing. It’s her body and she has that damn right, and I need to welcome her curiosity and reward it…but that would take all the fun out of it.

“Eyes forward. You’ll see,” I

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