Puck thrust in, then stopped abruptly. “Shit. I’m not wearing a condom.”
“Damn it.” I sagged against him. “I need this, Puck.”
“Me too.”
“I’m covered, and I’m clean, but . . .”
“Me too,” he agreed, “but we can’t take any chances.”
I shook my head. “No.” I ground against him, taking him deeper. “But you feel so fucking good like this.”
He returned my movement, thrusting into me, making me bounce upward. “So fucking good. Too good.”
And then he took two easy steps forward and tilted toward the bed, bending over, depositing me on my back, kissing me as he pulled out of me completely.
I actually whimpered at the loss of him. “Come back, Puck.”
He ripped open the drawers of the nightstand tables on both sides slamming them closed as he found nothing. Then to the bathroom, and god he was hot, his ass hard and taut. Drawers, cabinets, rifling, cursing. Then one last cabinet, and a triumphant shout.
“Thank fuck!” He stood in the doorway with a box of condoms, unopened.
My eyes latched onto his dick as he swaggered back into the bedroom from the bathroom. It was such a lovely organ, thick and hard, long, straight, glistening. Bulbous head, taut heavy balls, a shaft I couldn’t wait to get my hands around, couldn’t wait to feel inside me again. He ripped open the box and set it aside, tore a square packet free and tossed the rest of the string on the bedside table next to the box. I grabbed his cock and plunged my fists around him, stroking him from root to tip eagerly as he tore the packet open with his teeth.
I snatched the condom from him, held his cock in one hand and rolled the latex on with the other. When he was covered, I rolled to my back on the bed, not letting go of his shaft, pulling him with me.
He was levered over me, brown eyes on mine, palms in the pillow beside my ears, arms like pillars on either side of me. I guided him to me, not taking my eyes off his. Mine went wide as I was split open by him, my mouth locked in a breathless moue, brows drawn. I felt every glorious inch of him as he slid into me, felt the incredible, electric rippling perfection of his cock as it glided into me, and fuck, oh god, so much. I couldn’t breathe for how he felt inside me. I spread my legs apart, and he pushed as deep as he could go, and I found my breath enough to gasp in rapture when his hips bumped against mine, his balls slapping against my taint as he buried fully inside me. He focused his weight on one arm and palmed my breast, purely for his own pleasure, and yet the feel of his rough, calloused, strong hand on my tit scraping my nipple was so delicious I shuddered, and then he bent and claimed my mouth, and I rolled my hips, because I needed more, more.
“Oh fuck, Puck, please.” I clutched his ass and pulled at him, tugging him closer to me.
He gave me exactly what I wanted, movement, his huge, perfect dick pulling out and stretching me as it slid, and then just the plump head was left in me, and he hesitated, teasing, grinning down at me. He teased me, nudging not all the way in, backing off when I flexed to beg for his length inside me.
“Don’t tease me, Puck.”
“No?” He laughed. “It’s so fun, though.”
He apparently needed to learn that just because I was on bottom didn’t mean I was helpless. I reached between us, cupped his balls in my hand, massaging them, and then slid my two middle fingers toward his taint, and with my other hand clutched his shaft. Stroked him over the condom, cradling his balls, teasing his taint. He moaned then laughed.
“Fine, fine.” He bent and nipped my upper lip sharply. “No more teasing.”
I released him, and he pushed into me, and I moaned as he filled me. “Oh god, Puck. Puck.” I gripped his ass in both hands and held on, urging him to move faster, to give me more. “How do you feel so fucking amazing?”
It was like whatever I might have felt before with anyone else had ceased to exist in my memory. There was nothing else, no one else. Size, strength, build, looks; it wasn’t because of any one of those things. It was something I didn’t have any explanation for, he just felt better. Was better, in ever way.
“I dunno, Colbie, but you . . . Jesus, babe. You are it.”
I matched his movements, meeting him thrust for thrust, both of us going slow, not willing to rush this. “I feel like . . . I don’t know how to explain it. Like I was doing it wrong my whole life. Or like everything else, everyone else is just . . . a pathetic imitation.”
And this was missionary; I didn’t even like missionary.
He moved in me a few more times, and I felt something rising inside me already. I slid my fingers between us, found my clit.
“Yeah, Colbie. Let me watch you touch your pussy.” He leaned back on his knees, pushed my knees up, tucking my feet against his chest so I was opened and splayed apart for him. And like this, oh god . . . I could feel him deeper like this, almost like he was thicker and harder and longer, and his eyes focused on my fingers as I pressed them to my clit. He glided into me slowly and smoothly, so his thrust in was indecipherable from the withdrawal, and my fingers flew around my clit, and I felt tension ratchet up inside me, torsion focused low inside me, heat building, desperation rising, my chest heaving as my breathing went ragged, sending my tits bouncing, and I watched his gaze flit to them as they swayed and swung and bounced, to my fingers, to his cock driving in and out of me. I lifted up for a moment, to watch as his cock vanished inside me, watched in rapt fascination as my pussy swallowed his enormous length.
The orgasm stole over me, starting slow, beginning deep inside me, different entirely from the climaxes he’d given me with his fingers and mouth. Those were sharp and fast and hot; the orgasm that detonated slowly inside me now was something else, slow and expansive and deep and starting dull but gaining strength and heat and sharpness as I neared the crescendo. My hips were bucking and he was holding on to my thighs, just below the bend in my knees, keeping my legs pushed back against my torso, stretching me open, and his amazing cock was driving into me, pushing me higher and higher. I watched him move, watched his body flex, watched those beautiful, massive slabs of hard muscle shift and ripple under his skin, watched his eyes roam my body, and I knew he was devouring me with his gaze, loving the way I looked naked beneath him, my tits bouncing as he fucked me, his hips slapping against my ass, and his eyes met mine, and I gave him all the vulnerability I had in my returned gaze.
“Come for me, Cole.”
Cole . . . Nobody had called me that since my sister died; my eyes watered and my breath caught in my throat, choking me.
He didn’t miss it, and his movement faltered. “Holy shit—Colbie—what’d I say, honey?”
I shook my head, found my voice. “Don’t—don’t you dare stop, Puck Lawson.” My voice shook though.
I wasn’t going to come, or break apart, I was going to shatter.
Puck thrust into me, holding my legs, watching me carefully, and I was too much of a mess to push anything down or block any emotions or take anything back.
I gave in to everything going on inside me, the need to cry, the need to scream with pleasure, the need to reach this precipice with Puck and throw myself over it.
My fingers went wild, and I gasped and felt it slash through me, the beginnings of the orgasm. Tears leaked, and I ignored them, letting them fall unheeded.
Puck released one of my legs, reaching down to brush my tears aside. I caught his hand, nuzzled into his palm, one cheek and then the other, smearing my tears on his skin, and kept my gaze locked brazenly on his with all my crazy, volatile emotions on full display. Gave him the full force of my craziness, to see if he wanted more.
I nuzzled into his palm again, and my heart squeezed as he moved with me, filling me beautifully in thrust after thrust, fucking deep until my breath caught from the aching thrill of him filling me.
“Ohh—oh god, Puck . . . fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming, Puck, Jesus, I’m coming so hard—”
It was exactly what I’d thought it was g
oing to be, a shattering, all-consuming nova of ecstasy centered on our joined bodies. I cried out as I broke, sobbing as it smashed through me in a drowning wave of gutting heat and releasing pressure. I felt the walls of my pussy clamp down on Puck’s cock, gripping so tight he hissed in surprise.
At the peak of my orgasm, while I was shuddering and screaming, I hooked my leg behind Puck’s and pushed on his chest, flipping us over, and he rolled so I was on top. The moment his back hit the pillow, I caught my weight on his chest and draped my hair around his face and slid the tips of my tits against his mouth and sank down on him as slowly as I could.
“Ohh my holy fucking shit, Colbie, Jesus,” he ground out through gritted teeth, breathless. “Holy fuck.”
His sounds of pleasure were muffled then, as I brushed my nipple through his lips, and he latched on, suckling on me until I yelped from the sharpness of his suction and teeth. I lifted up, closing my eyes to focus on the feel of his cock sliding between the lips of my pussy, and then I drove down to sink him into me, and I reveled in that sensation too, taking my time with each thrust, each stroke, whimpering and gasping and moaning because I was still coming. Puck’s hands gripped my hips, and he helped me with my thrusts, lifting me up, tugging me down, and we set a perfect rhythm together. I braced one hand on the center of his chest and slid my other between our bodies and touched myself as we fucked together.
“I love how you touch yourself, Colbie,” he murmured. “I love watching you touch your pussy while I fuck you.”
“I think I’m the one fucking you right now,” I said, bringing my knees beneath me so I could slap my ass down on him, showing him how hard I could fuck him.
He groaned, lost his words as I took him the way I wanted him, harder and harder, my ass crashing against his hips and thighs, his cock driving into me in beautifully hard thrusts, and all he could do was keep up, hold on to my hips and bury his face in my neck.
“Admit it,” I whispered in his ear.
“You’re fucking me,” he rumbled.
“No, not that.” I pressed my forehead to his, and our eyes met and my fingers flew and his cock brought me to another orgasm, and I felt him shuddering beneath me, heard him groaning, felt sweat break out on his body and mine, and I knew he was close too. “Admit that nobody has ever fucked you the way I’m fucking you right now.”
“Never . . . ever . . . fucking ever,” he breathed, gasping, grunting. “And no one ever will.”
I bit his lip and then he smashed his mouth against mine in a bruising kiss, and our tongues found each other, soared and danced.
My lips whispered against his. “When you come, say my name.” I spoke through gritted teeth, because my climax was endless and furious, and I could barely speak past the shuddering, wracking bliss. “Call me Cole, like you did before. Pray to me when you come, Puck.”
“Right now, baby, it’s happening now, and I can’t stop it.”
“Don’t stop it. I’m still coming. Come with me.”
His grip on my hips was bruising, and I loved the pain of it, reminding me of his strength as he shoved me onto his cock. “Cole, oh my god, holy shit—Cole, Cole . . .”
I didn’t need to touch myself to finish coming, because his cock did all the work, sliding against me just right, smashing into me, gliding against my G-spot so I broke apart all over again. I clung to him, my hands sliding over his scalp, my arms under his head, my lips stuttering over his mouth, our breathing matched in ragged gasps.
He came, he unleashed himself with a guttural roar, and I was shattering and drowning and crying because he was chanting my name, my nickname, the nickname that no one had called me in twelve years. He came and he chanted Cole Cole Cole a thousand times as he thrust into me, fucking me through our orgasm.
Finally, I couldn’t move anymore. I collapsed on him, my cheek on his chest, my heart over his heart. I could hear our heartbeats hammering . . . thumpthumpthumpthump jackrabbit fast, his breath heaving, sweat slicking his skin, mingling with my own sweat, smearing together.
11: Don’t Say It
I’d never crashed after sex. Like, I made her pass out, as promised, but I’d never been brought to that point myself. Yet Colbie managed it. I came, and I felt her pussy clamp down around my cock as I came harder than I’d ever come in my life, and then Colbie collapsed on me, and her weight was like a blanket warming me, her hair tickling my nose, her scent in my nostrils, my cock stiff and throbbing and twitching inside her, her pussy clamping spastically. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Moving never entered my mind. I wrapped my arms around her, felt her fingers tighten into a knot on my chest under her chin, and my eyes fluttered and I just gave in.
And when I came to an unknown amount of time later, Colbie was still on top of me, but I felt wet warmth where her cheek was.
“You’re crying,” I murmured.
She nodded. “My sister, Danielle . . . she was the only person who’d ever called me Cole before, and when she died, I thought that nickname had died with her. I loved it when she called me that. It was just our thing, and I . . . I don’t know. I just loved it.”
“Oh god, Colbie, I’m so sorry, I had no idea—”
She lifted up, straddling me, and pressed her fingers over her lips. “Don’t. Not all sadness and pain is . . . bad. Yes, I miss her. Yes, there was pain when you called me that. But it also felt . . . right . . . to hear you call me that. I’m not going to avoid it just because it still hurts a little. I want you to call me that.”
She carefully slid off me, reaching between us to hold the condom in place as I flopped out of her. Clear of me, she glanced at my cock, and at the tip of the condom, drooping heavily with my come. “You came a lot,” she said with a smirk.
“You do that to me.”
“And you came a lot on the plane, too.”
“You make me crazy, Colbie. I feel like a fucking teenager around you.”
“With a teenager’s refractory period?” she asked, sounding eager and hopeful.
I laughed. “Pretty damn close,” I said.
She leaned over me, her soft, warm breasts flattened on my chest. “Go take that off and come back.”
“Yes ma’am,” I said, sliding off the bed. Like she had earlier, when I hit the floor, I wobbled, my legs shaky. “See what you do to me, hot stuff? You fucked me so good I can’t walk.”
“Get back here and I’ll do it again. Except better.”
I felt my heart flipping in my chest. Legit, how could sex get any better? More to the point, why on earth would I ever leave this room? I disposed of the condom and returned to the bed, and Colbie’s gaze was locked on my cock the whole time, watching it bounce and jiggle and sway as I walked toward her.
“My turn,” she said, hopping off the bed.
And you bet your ass I watched that perfect heart-shaped ass of hers as she left. She closed the door and came back out a minute or so later, and she’d teased her hair out. Posing in the doorway, she leaned against it, popping a hip out, one foot crossed over the other.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her. “Colbie, for real, do you have any goddamn idea how perfect you are?”
Flawless creamy skin, tight, high, full breasts, just wide enough hips, a perfect ass, long, thick, strong legs, hair that glowed reddish brown in the low lights of the room, an expressive mouth with plump kissable lips, eyes that shone like diamonds, storm gray and roiling with emotion she didn’t bother hiding. No more poker face. She let me see exactly what she was feeling: she was nervous, letting me stare at her like this, nervous to come back and do this again with me, no longer in the heat of a moment but going in sober and knowing it wasn’t just sex but something more, and she was also flush with need, desire raging in her eyes, in the way she pressed her thighs together, one crossed over the other to almost hide the blossom of her pussy.
“Take a shower with me,” she murmured. “I wanna play with you in the water.”
“I told you what I want to do
to you in the shower.”
She twisted in place and bent to present me her ass. “Why do you think I’m suggesting it?” she asked, palming her ass cheeks in a teasing bounce.
She swayed back into the bathroom, reached into the stall and turned on the shower, tested the temperature, and then stood waiting for me. I didn’t keep her waiting long. Fuck no. I wanted to run in there and fall to my knees in worship, but I didn’t want to seem as desperate as I was—and then I thought fuck that, yes, I did want her to know exactly how I felt. So I may not have run, but I moved at what I might call an aggressive pace. I pushed her backward into the shower—which was a luxurious affair, of course, a palace of marble, with benches lining two walls, multiple rainfall shower heads with plenty of pressure, all the gels and conditioners and shampoos and soaps one could want.
And yes, I fell to my knees, and I worshipped her body as the hot water soaked her, dampening her hair and running down her body. I kissed her legs, and her hips, and her stomach, and her breasts; I kissed her waist and her sides and the backs of her thighs, and I kissed the taut, round bubbles of her beautiful ass cheeks, and her spine, and the back of her neck. I grabbed a bottle of shower gel and squirted it onto her breasts and into my hands, and I slathered her with it, roaming her incredible body with my hands until she was white with lather, cleaning every inch of her as thoroughly as I could, and then she twisted in the spray to wash it away. Standing with her, I twisted her in place to face the wall, guided her hands to the wall, and she grinned eagerly at me over her shoulder as I sank to my knees behind her. I took the shower gel once more, squirted some into my palm slathered it onto her ass. Pulled apart those firm globes to bare the sweet, tight, little rosebud of her asshole. Worked the soap over it, scrubbing gently, and then more firmly, watching her reactions as I touched her. She was watching over her shoulder, biting her lower lip in anticipation. I reached out blindly and found the detachable handheld wand, using it to rinse the soap away. And then I touched my mouth to her skin, kissing in circles, random patterns, edging closer and closer. She hummed nervously as I finally touched my tongue to her, and then, when I began to flit my tongue in circles, she whimpered in surprise.
Puck: Alpha One Security Book 4 Page 21