Page 8 of Pucked Up

Reaching behind me, I pushed the pillows out ofthe way, then scooted backward until I was braced against the headboard. “Tuck those under my knees,” I instructed, pointing at the sad, sorry sacks of fake down.

If I didn’t sit right, I would pay for this night in pain I couldn’t really afford. But he was careful as he lifted one knee and propped it up, watching my face as he spread my legs until he saw me relax. He must have heard my sigh of relief because he chuckled, then did the same to my other leg.

I felt entirely on display, but I didn’t hate it. My body was my own and deserved to be worshipped as much as any other’s. And the way he looked at me—Jean-Luc—I felt treasured.

Shit. That was not a road I wanted to walk down. It was dangerous. I had no time.

Focus, damn it. Find something gross on him. A mole, a pile of nostril hair, some snot stuck up his nose? Uhg, what about that gross thrushy white shit some people had on their gums?

But no. He was hot from head to toe. Then he set his knee on the bed, and I noticed a couple of dimples in them. Okay, that wasn’t…ugly, but it wasn’t attractive.

Knee dimples. I can’t be with a man who has knee dimples.

“Knee dimples?” he murmured.

Oh my fucking Christ, was I talking out loud? Fuck me.

“I will,” he said.

I was doing it again. I slapped a hand over mymouth, and he laughed, staring down at me as he reached behind him. He had one of those free lube packets from the box of condoms, and he put the edge between his perfect white teeth and tore the corner off, making a face as some dribbled onto his lip.

“Not flavored,” he said, then smeared half the packet onto two fingers. “How careful do you want me to be?”

“I want to feel it after,” I told him.

His grin was sharp and toothy as he leaned on one hand, his other snaking between my legs. There was no real preamble, no real foreplay, though I’d argue that the way we’d been dancing around each other since we got to the room was foreplay enough.

He turned away from me, then reached behind him and circled two fingers around his hole…then pushed.

“Ah, God!” I couldn’t help myself. He was too fucking glorious.

“Close,” he growled. “Keep talking.”

I grabbed my dick and tugged, grunting as he pushed his fingers in deeper, adding a third without waiting for his hole to relax.

I liked it. I liked watching him so much. It was everything I’d ever fantasized about when walking into the bar. He was every man I hoped I’d find: dangerous and hot and a little mean.

His fingers spread apart, and he gasped. My hips trembled as I attempted to thrust into the circle of my hand, but that wasn’t going to happen tonight.

Or ever, if I was being honest with myself. But it didn’t matter. I was going to fill him soon. I was going to sit here and watch as he took my dick.

“Is that enough?” I asked.

He removed his hand immediately, turning back around. I could see a slight tremble in his thighs as he knee-walked closer, and he dropped a condom on my lower stomach. “Do you want to put it on?”

He was asking without asking if I had the function to do it. I did. But instead of that, I tore it open and then pressed the curled edges against his lips.

“Open.”

He obeyed. I tucked it in front of his teeth and smiled. It had to taste like absolute shit, but he showed no signs of caring. He just nodded when I pushed my legs further apart and then gestured at my dick.

He knew. Somehow, he knew exactly what I wanted without me having to say it. His head dipped low, and then he gripped my dick in his slick hand and fit the tip of the condom around the head. Sucking in a breath through his nose, his lips closed around me, and then he sank down—a single swallow to engulf me in latex and spit.

He pulled off with a small gag, then looked up at me with dark, watery eyes. “Do you want to fuck me now?”

There was no question. I reached up, grasping the tops of his shoulders as I guided him over me. His legs were thick, powerful, and strong as they settled around mine. He kept our gazes locked as he reachedbehind him, smearing the last of the lube over me, and then I felt the head catch on his rim.

“Go slow,” I begged. “Please.” I was too fucking close just from the thought of this.

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