Page 86 of Arrogant Puck

“Okay,” he says, stepping even closer.

My eyes flick down his body involuntarily, taking in the way his muscles move under his skin. “Why is your shirt off?”

“Why? Is it bothering you?”

The question catches me off guard. My eyes scan his body again, and this time I see the bulge. He’s hard as a rock. “Were you… about to... jack off in there?”

He takes another step forward and leans down. “Do you want to watch?”

The suggestion sends heat shooting through my body, and I try to push him away. But he catches my arm, his grip firm but not painful.

“Sage.”

“Slater… What are you doing?”

“I don’t have boundaries, baby. I sure as hell cannot control myself around you.”

“You haven’t even tried.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m fucking trying.”

The intensity in his voice, the way he’s looking at me like I’m something he wants to devour is too much. I turn and leave himstanding alone in his room, my heart pounding as I retreat to the safety of the living room.

But even there, I can still feel the heat of his gaze on my skin. The way my body reacts to his. I’m pulsing between my legs. This isn’t fucking fair.

I’m standing here alone like I’ve been lit on fire. Every nerve ending is screaming, my skin too tight, my breath shallow. I shouldn’t go back in there, but I can’t fucking help it. What is he doing in there?

I storm back into his room without thinking, opening the door without knocking.

He’s naked with his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping slow and hard.

My breath catches at the sight, but he doesn’t stop.

“What happened to knocking on the damn door?” he grits out, pumping faster. “You literally just said we need boundaries.”

My eyes drop to his cock.

The sight of him—thick, flushed, already dripping—is obscene. Beautiful. My mouth goes dry, and I swear I feel my thighs clench around nothing. He’s still stroking, his gaze locked on me like I’m the center of a storm he’s been dying to get lost in.

My breath is stolen as I watch his movement. I don’t speak. I don’t have the words. I don’t leave. Maybe I do want to watch. My pulse is everywhere but heaviest right at my center.

On impulse, I tug my shirt over my head.

His nostrils flare.

“Sage,” he rasps, glancing at my bare breasts. “What are you doing?”

My fingers tremble as I shove my shorts down, standing in nothing but dark blue panties now. My chest rises and falls like I’ve just run miles.

He stops moving. Walks up to me slowly. Bare. Tall. So hard it looks painful.

His fingertips graze my stomach. I gasp. My skin tightens where he touches me, like every nerve is begging for more.

“I’m not asking you to do anything,” he murmurs.

I glance down, eyes locked on his dick—thick and wet at the tip.Holy fuck.

“I can’t take the tension anymore,” I breathe.

---