Page 42 of One Pucking Life

She must sense my presence because her eyes flutter open—and she gasps, a squeal ripping from her throat as she scrambles to cover herself.

“Max!” she cries, yanking her hand up to her chest. She tosses the headphones aside, panic flooding her features. “What are you doing?”

My legs move before I think better of it, desire driving every step. I cross the room and stop at the side of her bed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” My voice is low, urgent.

“What?” Her brows furrow.

“I told you to come to me if you needed anything. Why didn’t you?”

Her eyes widen. “Max—no.”

“I can help you,” I say, my voice softening, thick with something I can’t quite name. “You just have to ask.”

Her gaze drops down my body, landing on the obvious strain in my boxers. Her lips part, a flicker of her tongue appearing before she drags her eyes back up to meet mine.

“We can’t,” she whispers, but even she doesn’t sound convinced.

“Okay,” I murmur, stepping closer, my knees brushing the mattress. “We won’t. But if you need relief… if you just need tofeelsomething—I can help you.”

Her expression shifts, something unspoken flickering in her eyes. “Max…” she breathes, my name falling from her lips like a secret, like a confession.

She pulls the covers to her chin, her defenses starting to crumble.

I climb onto the bed and position myself behind Delaney. Sitting up against the headboard, her back rises and falls against my chest. My face lowers, and my lips linger beside her ear. “I meant it when I said to come to me if you needed anything. Tell me what you need, Laney. No strings attached. I just want to help you. Tell me.” I nibble her earlobe, and she squirms.

“Max,” she pants.

“Tell me,” I order.

The room is silent save for our heated breaths as Laney decides what to do.

“What do you need, Laney?” I whisper against her neck.

Finally, she relents. “I need to come.” Her voice is a soft whimper.

“What do you need from me?” I ask, making her say it.

“I need you to make me come, Max.” The back of her head pushes against my chest as she tilts her face to see me.

Lowering my face, I hover my lips against hers. “I would love to help you with that. Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she groans against my lips.

My lips find hers, claiming what they’ve wanted since the first time I laid eyes on her. My tongue slides into her mouth, and she greets me with a moan of pleasure, her tongue tangling with mine. Our mouths collide—frantic, hungry, and desperate for more.

My hands wander. First, beneath her T-shirt where, I find her perky breasts and taut nipples. I tug and pull at her nipples as she voices her pleasure against my mouth. My skin hums as my palms slide south over the soft skin of her belly toward theapex of her spread legs. When my fingers find her opening, hot and wet with need, our kiss breaks as we groan out in unison as I push two fingers inside her.

I begin pumping my hand. She wraps her arms around my neck, pulling herself flush against me. Her body moves with mine, responding to every shift, every touch, her breaths quickening as she chases the release she was already reaching for before I even walked in.

I hold her tighter, my fingers matching her rhythm, her soft gasps growing louder, more desperate. The tension between us builds, sharp and electric, and she rides my fingers, ensuring they go in as deep as possible. I thrust my fingers inside her until her cries break free, high and breathless, filling the room with the sound of everything we’ve been suppressing.

Holding her against me, her body alive with pleasure, is almost more than I can handle. I can’t imagine what it’d feel like to be inside her.

Removing my fingers, I slide them up to her clit and rub.

She cries out, “Oh, yes! Right there.” She fists my hair at the nape of my neck and pushes her back against me as if the sensations between her legs are almost too much. I rub, flick, and pull against her bundle of nerves, increasing my tempo, needing to feel her explode against me.

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