Page 143 of Pucking Around

Fighting a shiver, I whisper, “No.”

He pulls off the shirt, dropping it to the floor, and sweet baby Jesus. My eyes widen appreciatively. He looks almost ethereal in the soft golden light of the lamp. This man is beyond fit. Broad shoulders carry heavy muscle. He has well-defined pecs and an eight-pack that leads to a sharp V at his hips. My gaze follows the angle downwards, ending at the top of his pants. His hands are already resting there.

He can’t tear his gaze from me either. “Rachel, tell me to stop.”

I drop my purse to the floor, kicking off my shoes. “No.”

As he works the top of his pants open, I tug at the buttons of my white, silky blouse, untucking it from the top of my pants and stripping it off. It flutters to the floor at the same time that he slips his pants down, leaving him in nothing but a pair of fitted black boxer briefs.

I don’t hesitate, stripping off my black crop top and tossing it aside, exposing my bare breasts. My skin prickles with nerves, goosebumps spreading down my arms as my nipples harden into sharp peaks.

My leggings go next. I shimmy out of them, holding Ilmari’s molten gaze as I drop them to the floor. Now we’re standing feet apart wearing nothing but our underwear. Mine are a pair of blush pink panties.

He scans me from head to toe, nodding appreciatively as he takes in all my curves. “You’re beautiful, Rakas,” he murmurs.

“So are you,” I reply.

He holds my gaze, his chest expanding with each deep, steady breath. “Tell me to stop,” he says one last time.

“No,” I whisper, sealed to my fate. It barely takes a tug, and my panties slip down, dropping to my ankles. I step out of them, standing wholly naked before him.

With a low growl, he’s shoving off from the desk and crossing the room. I’m ready for him, my body melting against the warmth of his chest as he all but bends me back, stealing my breath with a desperate kiss. I sigh into him, my fingers brushing over the buzzed hair at his nape before I’m cupping his bearded cheeks.

I open fully to him, holding nothing back, and he reciprocates. He smells like heaven—that cologne that makes me think of cool summer nights on my family’s Montana ranch. In his arms, I feel like starlight and firelight mixed in one, cold and hot, distant and so very present. I’m experiencing everything at once, alive in my skin and burning with need.

Ilmari’s calloused hands rove. They take in the curve of my shoulders, sliding down to brush along each rib. I love the feel of his hands on me, exploring me, learning me. He cups my breasts with a groan, weighing them in his hands. I shiver with want as he pinches my nipples with thumb and forefinger. The burst of need coils deep in my core.

“Say it,” he growls, breaking our kiss.

My mind can’t form thoughts. “Please, Ilmari,” I whine against his lips.

“Say it,” he says again, his mouth dropping to my neck. He drives me wild as he sucks at my pulse point, his hands curving around to cup my ass and pull me tight against him. I feel the thick bulge in his briefs grinding against my hip.

“Ah—I want you,” I say, my hands holding tight to his shoulders as his face drops down, his mouth teasing my breast. His tongue starts flicking the tip of my nipple, sending rippling waves of desire straight to my aching pussy. Then he’s biting down with his teeth until I gasp.

He straightens, cupping my face with both hands as he stares into my soul. “Say it.”

I hold his gaze, my hand dropping down to cup his cock and—oh my fucking god—Caleb and Jake were right. Ilmari has a monster between his legs. Thick and long, I feel out its shape as he grunts, pressing back into my hand, craving more pressure. I burst open, saying all the things I’m feeling. “I want you, Mars.God—I have to have you. I’ve wanted you for so long. I’m aching for you…so wet for you…desperate for you.”

“Oon sun,” he whispers, his forehead pressed against mine, groaning as I slip my hand inside his briefs and fist his bare cock. “Say it, Rakas,” he begs one more time, and now I know what he wants to hear, though I can only guess at its meaning.

“Oon sun,” I repeat, trying to match his pronunciation.

He groans, fisting my hair and tipping my head back. “You’re mine.”

“Oon sun,” I say again. “I’m yours.”

“Mä kuulun sulle,” he murmurs, brushing my hair back. Then he’s dropping a hand to cup my bare pussy. “Haluun tätä.” His voice is little more than a groan. “I want this.”

I sigh with relief that my wait is finally over and press my hips into his hand. “It’s yours. Take me. Fuck me, Mars. And don’t hold back. God—please—just stop holding back. Let me in out of the cold,” I whisper, one hand still on his cock, the other smoothing down his chest. “I want in, Mars. Please, just let me in—”

His body crackles with electricity as he cups my chin hard, jerking my face up, holding my gaze. No one does intense like Ilmari Kinnunen. “I will not be gentle,” he growls.

“Good.” My pussy is already desperate.

As if to prove his point, he shoves two fingers inside me, sliding so easily through my wetness. I cry out, that first shudder of excitement at being filled zapping me down to my toes. He thrusts in and out, letting me adjust to his thick fingers.

“I will not wear a condom,” he adds. “This is a claiming, Rakas. I want to see my cum dripping from all your holes.”

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