Page 36 of Pucking Unhinged
The sound he makes wrecks me. A whimper. Tristan, my broody, sad boy, whimpers for me. My pussy clenches around nothing, aching, because I know he would never make that sound for anyone else.
Only me.
Tristan nods, loosens his grip but doesn’t let go, his fist still heavy in my hair. I know he needs that connection to remind us both that I belong to him. I love it. I love that he can’t even let me do this without having some part of me locked within his grip.
He lets me sink all the way to my knees. His eyes burn into me, torn between hesitation and his need for me. When he doesn’t stop me, I smile up at him, my eyes batting against the apples of my cheeks. He must like how I’m looking at him because he lets out something between a groan and a curse.
I tug the waistband of his gray sweats down, and his cock springs free, thick and hard, so perfect it makes my mouthwater. I have no idea what I’m doing, so I’m going on instinct and a prayer, I guess. I lick at him first, tentatively, and look up through my lashes. “Am I doing this right?”
His jaw clenches, a shudder running through him. “I have no idea,” he grinds out, voice wrecked, “but it feels like you are.”
Pride swells in my chest, hot and fierce. I get braver, wrapping my lips around him, sliding him into my mouth. Deeper. I want to swallow him whole, take all of him until my throat burns and my eyes water. His moans tear out of him, his hips jerking forward despite himself, his hand tightening in my hair as he groans my name like it’s his favorite word.
I suck harder, take him deeper, tasting salt and skin, letting him use my mouth, letting him see what I’d never give anyone else. He groans so loud it vibrates through me, so lost in it I suspect he’s seconds from coming.
And then he yanks back, gasping, his cock sliding from my lips with a wet pop. His forehead drops to mine as he pulls me to stand up.
Tristan’s voice is nothing but a ragged whisper when he says, “As good as that feels, baby, there’s no way I’m letting you swallow when I finish. When I come, I want to be in your pussy. Always.”
Tristan peels the towel from my body, and the way his eyes drag over me makes me feel worshiped. Coveted by him. Like I’m something holy he’s finally allowed to touch.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, almost reverently, his gaze burning. “I can’t believe you’re mine. I can’t believe I’m allowed to touch and kiss something this beautiful.”
My breath stutters as Tristan’s thumb brushes across my swollen bottom lip, still tender from sucking his cock. His mouth twists, dark and full of something I can’t quite place. “This mouth,” he whispers, voice rough. “Bringing me that much pleasure should be a crime.”
Heat coils low in my belly as he slides his hand down, wrapping it around my throat, not squeezing, just holding me there. His lips ghost over my ear. “Swallow for me. I want to feel it.”
I obey, a rough swallow, and his dick jerks against my stomach signaling he approves of the way my throat moves beneath his fingers. The power in that tiny reaction makes me ache for him all over again.
Tristan doesn’t let go. His touch trails lower, over the delicate curve of my collarbones, down to my breasts. His fingers tug at my nipple until it pebbles tight, and then he lowers his head, sucking me into his mouth like he’s starving.
“Fuck, you taste good,” he groans against my skin, still sucking, still teasing, while his hand drifts farther, spreading heat as it slides down my stomach and between my thighs.
“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he breathes, finding my clit with rough fingers and rubbing in circles until sparks shoot through me, my body jerking with every stroke.
Then he pushes two fingers inside, stretching me, curling them just right. “Are you still sore?” His voice is hoarse. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
I know if I say yes, if I admit I was sore, he’ll settle for touching me with his mouth and fingers all night. He’ll worship me that way and never complain. But that’s not what I want. I want the ache, the fullness, the way he tears me apart and puts me back together.
I kiss him so roughly, desperately, dragging his mouth down to mine until we’re both gasping. “I need you to fuck me. I feel hollow without you inside me.”
Tristan’s chest heaves, his eyes dark and wild, and then he lifts me with such ease. My back hits his bed, then he flips me gently onto my stomach. His voice is a low growl against my ear. “Relax, baby. I’m going to make you feel good.”
His hands knead my shoulders so carefully, coaxing me further down into the mattress. He works down my spine, to the base of my neck, tugging gently at my hair until I melt, sighing. “Feels so good,” I murmur, boneless under his touch. For a second, I think I could fall asleep like this.
But then he shifts, and the mattress dips. He props my hips up on a pillow, spreads my thighs open, and his mouth is on my pussy before I can breathe.
I cry out, my fingers clutching the sheets as his tongue drags over my wetness, hot and relentless. He licks, kisses, sucks, his stubble scraping my thighs until I’m trembling, lost to him.
“That’s my good fucking girl,” he growls into me, his voice vibrating against my clit. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t stop until I’m shattering, crying out his name, falling apart in his hands.
I can’t hear myself think over the sound of him. It’s all breath and teeth and the slick, hot friction as he shifts on top of me. He’s sliding his hard cock into me, slow at first, then not slow at all because he can’t wait.
“I need you,” he groans into the hollow of my shoulder, voice ragged. “I need to feel you come around my cock, baby. Please come for me again.”
And then Tristan’s fully inside me. All of him. Deep and perfect and claiming. My toes curl into the mattress as he sets his weight all the way over me, his hands moving like they know the map of my body by heart. First down my sides and then back up so his fingers can tangle in my hair so hard it makes me cry out in pleasure. I like the bite of pain. His hips pick up, long thrusts that bury him farther, and the pressure… my God…the pressure is everything. He pins me to the bed, and it makes me wetter than I thought possible.
This man is heavy and warm and exactly where I want him. The mattress creaks under the force of him, and I feel him hit that place inside me that makes the world roll sideways. Stars.White heat. The sharp little flare that pierces right through the hollow place inside my ribs. Tristan buries his face in the crook of my neck, low growls spilling between teeth.
