Page 88 of Arrogant Puck

But he’s not done.

He slides up, still naked, his cock heavy and slick against my inner thigh. He presses it to my entrance—not entering, just teasing.

“It’s going to feel so fucking good once I slide right inside you,” he growls, barely holding himself back.

My hips jerk. The pressure alone has me unraveling.

Then he’s back with his fingers. One. Then two. Curling. Stroking.

I gasp again, too wrecked to pretend I’m in control.

“You feel that?” he murmurs, mouth by my ear. “I’m going to make you come like this until you beg me to be inside you.”

“I’ll have you begging,” I pant, chest heaving, thighs trembling.

He lifts his head, eyes glowing with dark amusement. “We’ll see about that.”

And then his fingers are inside me again—two, maybe three—I can’t even tell anymore. I’m too far gone, too wrecked by the expert curl of his fingers and the relentless rhythm he sets. The wet sound of him working me fills the room. It’s filthy. It’s perfect.

“Oh fuck,” I gasp, my hips lifting off the bed.

He grins against my thigh, then dives back down.

His tongue flicks, circles, then flattens, all while his fingers work in sync like he’s orchestrating my ruin.

My moans break into gasps. My toes go numb. My body isn’t mine anymore—it’s his. Completely, utterly his. He’s breaking me, cracking me wide open.

I can’t believe how good he is. How confident. How determined. Like he knew I’d fall apart for him like this.

Then his voice—low, hoarse, devastating—breaks me completely.

“Come for me, baby.”

Oh, fuck.That does it.

Everything tightens, then…

Pleasure tears through me like lightning, sudden and wild. My thighs lock around his head, my back arches off the bed, and I scream his name like it’s the only word I know.

He groans into me like he’s coming too, and when I finally catch my breath, I look down just in time to see it happen.

Thick, hot ropes of come spill from his cock again, painting my stomach, adding to the mess he made earlier.

I can’t think. Can’t move.

Except for my hand.

I dip my finger into the warm slick on my stomach—slow, deliberate—and bring it to my lips.

He watches me like I’ve just shattered his soul.

I suck my finger clean, eyes locked with his.

“You are so fucking beautiful, Sage,” he says watching me. He puts his fingers into his mouth and sucks. “You taste so fucking good.”

Then he grabs my legs and licks my pussy one last time. I tremble at the contact. He grabs the towel and wipes my stomach clean.

He holds out a hand. “Let’s shower.”

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