Get Inked: A Pucked Series and Clipped Wings Crossover Novella (Pucked #5.5)(5)
He releases my clit with a pop, and his beard skims over the sensitive skin. “Nuh-uh, remember what I said about holding this position?”
I give him a bleary-eyed, questioning look, because I can barely remember my own damn name right now.
“The longer you hold it, the more you get to come.”
“I didn’t think you were actually serious.”
“Oh, I’m serious.” To prove how serious he is, he re-suctions his mouth to my clit and resumes sucking until I come again.
I have no idea how long I’ve been holding this position, but my legs are shaking, and I’ve got a serious head rush going on. Randy gets back on his knees between my legs, returning to his previous torture of cock-to-clit rubbing. When I’m close to coming again, he slides low and eases inside. Just the head, though.
At this point the muscles in my thighs are burning, and I feel a calf cramp coming on, but I’m determined to make it through the sexing in this damn position, because if I do, the next time we play this game, and I get whatever I want, I’m going to make him do some kind of acrobatic stunt. Randy uses one hand to keep the crotch of my stretched-out shorts pulled out of the way so he can watch while he eases inside me.
“You look so f*cking hot right now, luscious.”
“You should take a picture,” I suggest.
Randy looks around for his phone, but it’s not on the coffee table. “Fuck. My phone is charging.” For a second it seems like he’s debating whether to stop what he’s doing and get it, or f*ck it and keep going.
He chooses the latter, which is definitely preferable considering how long I’ve been doing a half-bridge on the couch and also how much I’d like all of his dick inside me, not just the head. Randy smooths his tattooed hand up my thigh and pushes inside.
I groan, partly because it feels good and also because I’m trying to lift my hips farther and my quads feel like they’re on fire. Randy takes a little bit of pressure off when he holds my right hip, but it’s not enough to alleviate the burn, which is becoming an orgasm distraction. Though I have had three already, and he’s only going to have one. This round, anyway.
The biggest issue is that the couch, as comfy as it may be for lying-down sex, isn’t all that practical for acrobatic sex. Randy’s learning this as he tries to pick up thrusting momentum but struggles with the uneven, soft surface.
It’s fine with me. It still feels good, and watching him try to troubleshoot the issue while keeping me in this goddamn position is actually entertaining, even if it is becoming close to unbearably uncomfortable. But I refuse to be the one to break.
His frustration is the first to give out. He grunts his annoyance, hooks his arms under my knees, palms my ass, and leans forward. “Grab my shoulders and hold on tight.”
I do exactly as he asks—it’s whatever he wants tonight—and I’m suddenly in motion. My shoulders hit the back of the couch as Randy’s feet land on the floor.
“What exactly are you doing?”
“Changing things up,” he says, like our sex-robatics should be expected.
To a certain degree they are. Randy likes to try new positions, but this is a little over the top. I’m parallel to the seat of the couch rather than laid out on it now, with my shoulders resting where my head would be if I were sitting and, you know, watching TV or something. I let my head drop back so I’m looking at an upside-down version of myself in the mirror on the wall.
I have a very clear view of Randy’s beautifully built, straining muscles as he holds me perpendicular to his body. He’s angling me perfectly so that my boobs don’t impede his view of my shorts in the mirror—they really are horribly stretched out now—and the base of his cock as he pulls out a little and pushes back in.
Well, this explains everything.
“Just can’t help yourself, can you? Always wanting to watch what you’re doing to me.”
He shifts his gaze from his own reflection to mine. “You don’t seem to be minding the view.”
I grab my boob and bite my lip, still keeping my eyes on him. “I love the view.”
It’s really all I need to say. Randy holds on to my hips and pounds two more orgasms out of me before he lifts me up and carries me piggyfront—with his cock still inside me—to our bedroom where he sexes me until he finally has his own orgasm.
We didn’t even bother to pull the covers down, so we lie on top of the duvet, breathing heavily. Randy rolls us so we’re side by side. I trace the lines of a high-rise on his arm while I come down from the orgasm high.
“Can I come with you tomorrow?” I ask.
“To the consult with my tattoo artist?”
I glance up at him. “Would that be okay?”
“Sure. I mean, I’m just going to be looking at designs and going over plans. It’s nothing exciting.”
“I don’t have to come if you don’t want me to.”
Randy brushes my damp bangs off my forehead. “You can come if you want. My artist is a little intense, though.”
“Intense how?” Violet mentioned having gone with Alex when he got his most recent tattoo at the end of the season. I’m not sure his artist was the same as Randy’s. But she said all the guys there were hot.
“I don’t know. Hayden’s like…serious most of the time.”