Page 44 of Pucking Unhinged
“Today is not about you, Hayden,” Callum mutters, but the way he hitches his voice up lets me know that he’s mimicking Madi’s voice.
The timing is too tempting. Hayden waits until Lilac isn’t between them and shoves Callum hard into the wall. Callum shoves him back just as hard in the other direction. I think this is going to escalate until Callum pulls a crumpled bag of sweet and sour candy from his jacket pocket and tosses it at Hayden in some kind of truce. Hayden rips it open, chewing a handful with a smirk before slamming a shoulder into Callum again.
It dies quick when Madi glances back, her long, blonde ponytail snapping with the motion. Both boys straighten instantly, the fight gone, trailing obediently after her and Lilac.
I can’t help laughing, the sound spilling out of me as they disappear around the corner. But when I tilt my face back up, Tristan hasn’t even noticed their antics. His eyes are only on me right now.
He lifts a hand, stroking gently over my hair that’s still pinned up tight, and bends down to kiss me soft and slow. The kind of kiss that feels like possession and worship at the same time.
When he pulls back, I’m breathless. “It won’t take me long to change,” I murmur against his mouth. “I’ll just shower at home… with you.”
His lips curve, but his eyes burn down into me. “I have something else in mind, dushen’ka.”
TRISTAN
Ilead Winter down the hall, my hand wrapped around hers, not giving her the choice to go anywhere but with me. She doesn’t ask where, and I suspect she already knows where I want to take her.
The studio.
The door creaks as I push it open, and everything inside is exactly as it always is. Polished floors. Walls lined with mirrors. This is where she’s poured herself out for years. Where I’ve picked her up more times than I can count, standing in the doorway and letting myself watch her when she didn’t notice.
She’s so fucking graceful. So perfect. Every line of her body telling me she was never meant for anyone else.
Now she’s mine, truly and fully, and I plan to act out every single fantasy I’ve ever had about her over the years.
I pull my girl inside and let the door click shut behind us. My chest tightens as I watch her take it in, because all I can see are the memories she must have here. Her sweat, her discipline, the hours she’s bled for this sport she loves so much. And me, always watching on the outside.
Not anymore.
Winter tilts her head up at me, brows knitting like she’s not sure what I’m doing. I don’t answer her just yet because words aren’t enough right now. Instead, I guide her across the empty studio to the mirror where she spends hours at the barre, my palm pressing delicately against the small of her back.
We stop in front of it. Our reflections stare back at us. She’s flushed and unsure, but I can see how much she trusts me, and that has me already undone. For a moment I just look at her and admire her. The soft slope of her neck, the line of her body, the way the costume clings to her ribs. So many nights I’ve stood watching her move and imagined this very thing. I want to take my time, explore her and show her every single thing I love about her.
They are infinite, and I fear I don’t have enough time on this planet to list them all.
“Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to do this?” My voice comes out low, rough, almost a growl. I thought I would be able to handle this. I thought I would be able to take my time, but once this girl is in my hands, all of my planning and reasoning flies out the window.
I dip my head, my lips brushing the skin at the side of her neck. She tastes like sweat and sugar, and it’s my fucking favorite. I drag my mouth higher, kiss her neck slowly, and reverently.
“If you’re too tired,” I murmur against her skin, my hand sliding up the flat of her belly, fingers spreading until my palm cups the weight of her breast, “this can wait.”
She lets out a sound that isn’t quite a laugh, isn’t quite a sigh, and says softly, “I could never be too tired to be with you.”
Her words hit me in the chest. My cock jerks hard against her ass, traitorous, and then she pushes up on her pointe shoes just enough to press back into me, teasing, perfect, like she knows exactly what she’s doing.
For a second all I can do is breathe her in and stare at our reflection, her body against mine, her eyes heavy with trust.
Winter’s body fits against mine like it was made for me, and she knows it. I feel her shift, leaning back into me, fitting herself against me and relishing in it just like I am. She knows this is more than physical. I swear our souls are tied together in some cosmic way, and my head is finally clear enough to start sorting it out. This isn’t just lust or obsession, this is something far greater.
I take my time, letting my fingers trace the line of Winter’s shoulder before I slip the strap down, baring more of her skin. Piece by piece, I undress her, slow enough that the ache in my chest nearly tears me apart. When I kneel to take her shoes off, she watches me in the mirror, eyes half-lidded. She owns me, and she knows it.
I’m behind her again, and she’s completely bare, but I’m still dressed in my suit. We watch it happen in the mirror as I explore her body. Her pupils dilating, her flushed cheeks blooming pink, the way she trembles but doesn’t pull away. My reflection behind her, hungry, reverent, completely consumed by not just her beauty, but her entire being.
“You’re so soft,” I whisper, my mouth brushing the shell of her ear. My hand slides up, cupping her breast again, bare this time. My thumb rolls over her nipple until it hardens under my touch. She shudders, her lips parting. “So sweet, aren’t you, dushen’ka?”
I can’t stop touching her. My palm drags over her stomach, savoring the smoothness of her skin, the way her muscles twitch under my hand. Lower, I find the smooth heat between her thighs and stroke her gently, slow circles that make her knees buckle. She whimpers, pressing back into me, and I nearly lose myself right there.
Even after having her many times, I could still come easily from her merely brushing against me. She has that much control, that much power over me.
