The Hot Hockey Player

Chapter 41 - Madeline 🌸

I wake up this morning, feeling more rested than I have in weeks. Maybe the fact that a handsome man is spooning me, holding me like his life depends on it is helping. Or maybe it's just the glow of our night together. I don't know. Both probably. 

I think I've had more orgasms in a few hours than I had in my entire life. Everything was perfect. I wanted him as much as he wanted me. And I love being wanted by him. It never felt rushed, forced or uncertain. Jude's always making sure I'm okay, asking me if I really want to do it, if I want to stop, blah-blah-blah. 

Yeah, tonight I basically told him to shut up and fuck me. I appreciate the green walking flag he is but at some point, I just needed him. And I know that if a moment came when I wasn't feeling it, he'll always listen to me and stop in a heartbeat, always. That's just the kind of man he is. The kind of man every woman deserves. 

Thinking about what we've been doing stirs something in me. Lust, longing... Something burning deep inside me, hidden at the moment but ready to rise again at any moment. I reach for my phone and squint at the screen. It's just before seven. I have time to stay in bed a bit more before I need to get up for class. I try as much as I can to turn over to face him but Jude's holding me like a child clinging to their favorite plushie. My goal right now is not wake him up but it seems complicated. Plus, he doesn't have any classes this morning but a practice at eleven, which means I should probably let him sleep. 

Somehow, I manage to shift enough to face and look at him. I don't move, I'm not even sure I'm breathing. Partly because I don't want to wake him up. Mostly because I'm in awe, captivated almost. 

I think I'll need a lifetime to tell the world how I feel about this man and even then, they wouldn't be enough. It wouldn't capture him perfectly. It wouldn't do him justice and I can't let that happen. So I just watch, trying to grasp how I found myself so lucky with a man like him. 

"Creepy stalker," he mumbles under his breath, voice thick with drowsiness. 

I'm in love with a freaking superhero. I can die happily.

I don't stop looking though.

And I think he can feel my gaze on him because his eyes flutter open, still heavy with sleep. 

"Stalkerish behavior, Miss Langford ?" he teases as he closes his eyes again but not without pulling me against him violently, but yet with so much tenderness, making me feel, with a simple motion, all the love he has for me. 

If I were a werewolf, I'd like to think that we'd be mates. We'd be made for each other, bound by something stronger and higher than us. I don't have any other explanation for the way I feel with him. I replenish in his arms, a sense of calmness and happiness filling me. I'd be able to face every challenge destiny has in its bag for me. 

I push into his arms, never wanting to get out of them. "No, I just like to observe my surrounding," I reply back, pressing a lazy kiss on his broad chest and I feel him shudder under my kiss.

"And what's your opinion about it ?" His fingers brushes my back and then my hips, with such delicacy, I could melt right now. His mouth drifts closer to mine and his eyes are still closed. He nudges his nose with mine and I'm almost certain that my theory about us being mates is about to come true.

It triggers a wave of laughter in me and I just can't hold it back, which clearly wakes him up. He just frown and as I take a look at him one more time, while appreciating what I see, I can't help but imagine him as a Were Wolf extra in Teen Wolf. And I just laugh even more. I can't imagine him as a big werewolf, even if all the attributes might be matching, like his big—