That One Night: A Pucking Around Prequel Novella (18)

I sigh. This doesn’t feel so playful anymore.

“Open,” he growls, his lips sucking on the sensitive skin behind my ear.

My legs fall open for him as if I’m a genie who can only do her master’s bidding.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, playing with my clit. “So wet for me. Are you always this wet? God, I hope not,” he answers. “I want you like this for me. Only me. Say that you’re mine.”

I shiver, fighting the urge to move my hips in time with his fingers. “I’m yours.”

“Fuck, I have to have you again,” he groans. “Please say I can have you again. Need you.” He’s already pushing me off his lap as I pant out a desperate yes. “Hands and knees, baby girl,” he says, jerking on the tie of my robe.

We’re wedged between the sofa and the coffee table, but I’m determined to make this work. I can’t wait another second to have him either. I scramble onto my hands and knees, facing the windowed wall. Behind me, he flips up my robe, exposing my ass. He bends over me, his hand curling between my legs to finger me again.

“Spread a bit, baby. You know how big I am.”

I flash him another teasing grin. “Someone’s feeling cocky.”

He laughs, grabbing my jaw and giving me a kiss that tastes like caramel sauce. “Yeah, you. Right now. You’re about to be so full of my cock. You’ll feel me everywhere. I want you just like this. Down on your elbows,” he says, putting a little pressure on my back with his hand. “Show me this sweet pussy.”

I drop down to my elbows, my face resting on my folded forearms. It leaves my ass sticking up in the air, his for the taking. God, I love this angle. Some girls say doggy style is over-rated, but for me? Lord, I live for it. I love feeling a dick driving in so deep. With his gorgeous cock, he’s going to hit me just right.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he praises, notching his cock at my entrance. My pussy clenches with eagerness as he pushes in. I gasp at the fullness, fighting a whimper as he holds tight to my hips. He works himself in me slowly, letting me adjust to his length as he goes deeper.

“You feel amazing,” I murmur, ready to chase this feeling of fullness, of being made whole. “You make me feel amazing. Please don’t stop.”

He stills, bending over me. His fingers brush gently along the line of my jaw. “Look at me, baby.”

I glance up at him, my heart stilling in my chest. He’s towering over me, owning me. We’re locked together with more than just our bodies. I feel him everywhere.

“Say the word, and I’ll never stop.” His voice is so earnest, his tone so eager.

Tears sting my eyes as I gaze up at him. “Never stop.”

And he doesn’t.





*



After our marathon floor sex, which turned into sofa sex, we collapse against each other, me pinned under him, bearing his full weight. It’s like snuggling under the world’s sexiest weighted blanket. My nipples are sore from the way he’s been tweaking and sucking them, and his cum is sticky between my legs. I love it.

He falls asleep mumbling something about a bad call on the TV, his face nuzzled against my breasts. I must fall asleep at some point too because I wake up a few hours later to find him gone. I’m alone on the sofa, my robe draped over me like a blanket. The TV is off, but the fireplace is still on. I sit up and my robe falls around my waist, my bare breasts pebbling in the cool air.

Did he leave without a word? My heart squeezes tight. One night with this guy, and I feel ready to rethink everything. I wanted him to know my name. I wanted to give him my number. Maybe this could have been more. Maybe—

But now I’ll never know.

I fight the tears stinging my eyes, but that’s when I hear the toilet. After a few moments, there’s the sound of running water at the sink. He’s just in the bathroom. The air slips gratefully from my lungs and I glance over the back of the sofa. His jeans are still in a pile on the floor next to his shoes. So is my jumpsuit and his shirt.

I sink back against the edge of the sofa with relief. Well, my heart feels relief. My mind is buzzing like a hive of bees. This is beyond crazy. I’m feeling way too much for this guy. I feel weightless, like an untethered hot air balloon.

Meanwhile, my whole body feels boneless from too much amazing sex. Is there such a thing as too much sex? There’s a pleasant soreness between my legs and I’m losing count of my orgasms. Five? I think there may have been a sneaky mini sixth one in there. I was mid-orgasm, and the jerk slapped my clit. Boom went the dynamite.

That was the “something” he learned about me during this last round. Now Mystery Boy knows I appreciate choking and slapping. If we get to bondage tonight, I suppose I should just pack it in and marry him. I’ll learn his name at the altar.

I slip off the sofa, my robe dropping to the floor, and tiptoe naked over to the bed. I check the time on my phone. 3:00AM. I have to leave for the airport in four hours.

I’ve missed a ton of messages. My roommate Tess sent a text and called twice. Daddy texted. And mom. They were both asking what happened to me at the brunch, wondering if I’m okay. Two texts from Harrison. A “U OK?” and a GIF of Moira Rose wearing that weird head pillow thing. Good, I’d rather him think I was too hungover from the wedding last night and not too embarrassed by my fellowship failure.