Page 74 of Revenge Puck

Just because I’m not ready to have sex with Preston, doesn’t mean I don’t want him to touch me.

“Deal,” he quickly agrees.

A second later and his face is pressed against my sex, lips kissing me softly in an incredibly intimate area. When he tries to lift the material up my stomach, I cover his fist to stop him.

“Can the jersey stay on?” I ask. His dark eyes peek up at me before he nods. His fist releases the material, leaving his head to hold it up high enough to keep it out of the way, while his hands slide underneath, up over my hips, my waist, and ribs, before reaching their destination—my bare breasts.

Preston cups them and groans against my flesh before squeezing them and flicking the pointed tip of his tongue over the bundle of nerves at the apex of my sex.

“Oh my god!” I cry out at the warm, wet sensation, my fingers sinking into his soft hair.

One of his palms releases my breast to lift my right leg, draping it over his shoulder. The move opens me to him, allowing his tongue access to every sensitive inch. His palm moves around to squeeze a handful of my ass while the other holds my breast, his thumb brushing my nipple.

“God, yes,” I moan as he tastes me frantically, furiously, as if he can’t get enough. Preston’s tongue dips and swirls, making me crazy. The pressure in my core builds and builds until it explodes within me, setting off fireworks behind my closed eyes, and tremors through my entire body.

When the pleasurable waves begin to ebb, I realize that Preston’s hands tightly gripping my waist are all that’s keeping me from falling on my ass.

Pressing a chaste kiss to my mound, he gets to his feet, lifting me off mine to carry me to bed.

Once I’m lying down, my head on the pillow, he joins me. Spreading my thighs apart, he lies down flat on his stomach between them, looks up at me, and says, “I lied. I need more than one taste. Call a timeout if you want me to stop.”

My lust hazed mind can’t even process his comment before his head disappears underneath his jersey, and he begins devouring me yet again.

24

Preston

Ispent a record-breaking amount of time with my face buried between Elle’s thighs last night. My hands roamed her sexy body the whole time underneath the jersey that’s hiding her from my sight.

While I love seeing her in nothing but my jersey, she insisted on keeping the damn thing on all night. She didn’t seem to mind my hands or mouth, which makes me think she’s self-conscious. I hate that she feels the need to hide even an inch of her skin from me.

More than that, I hate that Riley has most likely seen all of her; that he’s touched her, kissed her, done all the things I want to do but haven’t yet.

God, I want her.

But we both agreed no sex yet. That’s probably for the best, since, as turned on as I get whenever I’m near Elle, I know I wouldn’t last five seconds inside of her.

Which is why I made last night all about Elle and her pleasure. My dick has waited years. It can wait a few more days or weeks.

After the finals are over, when I know that she’s getting over Riley and we’re not together for any ulterior reasons, I may be ready to cross that final line with Elle. Until then, I don’t mind suffering as long as she isn’t.

I need to prove to her that wanting to be with her doesn’t have anything to do with that prick. I want her because she’s gorgeous and sweet and sexy as hell.

Those thoughts, along with all the others in my head, disappear as soon as I feel Elle’s lips press to my bare pec. Her fingernails glide through my chest hair, then down the length of my happy trail before moving back up. Lying flat on my back and shirtless, my abs tighten in response, while another part of me swells in anticipation.

“Morning,” Elle says with her body curled up on her side in the crook of my arm.

“Morning. How did you sleep?”

“Like the dead. Did I even say goodnight?”

Chuckling while trying to ignore the persistent ache in my lower body, I tell her, “The last thing you said to me was, “Oh crap! My toes are cramping but don’t you dare stop…don’t…yes! Yes! OH YESSS!”

Her palm playfully slaps my belly, sending a jolt of need lower and making me groan.

Elle lifts her tousled blonde head to look at my face. “I didn’t hit you that hard.”

“No, I know,” I assure her. “But something is so hard it’s about to burst.”

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