Get Inked: A Pucked Series and Clipped Wings Crossover Novella (Pucked #5.5)(8)

I pull the tie on her apron, and Tenley ducks her chin so I can get it over her head. Her nipple shields are visible through her flimsy tank. Before I take that off, I reach behind her and pull down the blinds, keeping the neighbors across the way from getting a view of the action. Tenley helps out by dropping her shorts and kicking them across the floor.

I grab her by the hips and lift her onto the counter.

“There’s only ten minutes before I have to test the cupcakes,” she warns.

“I’ll be fast.”

“Not too fast.”

I pull her tank over her head and groan. Cupping her breasts, I thumb her nipples. “Did you change these this morning?” She has on my favorite shields: cupcakes with little jeweled barbells. They make her nipples look permanently hard.

“I did.”

“I f*cking love these.” I lean in and take one between my lips, then move to the other side, giving the other nipple the same treatment while Tenley fumbles with my belt and the zipper on my jeans.

Before she can stick her hands down my pants, I drop to my knees, dragging her forward until she’s at the edge of the counter. Tenley holds tight to the granite lip, her head resting on the cabinets behind her, waiting for my next move.

Starting at her knee I kiss a slow, wet path up the inside of her thigh. I pause at the tiny cupcake tattoo I put just above the crest of her pelvis. I’m the only one who gets to see it.

Dropping my head, I brush my lips over her clit and flick her with my tongue. She jerks and sighs, but doesn’t say anything about wanting me to go faster. Tenley knows the more demanding she is, the longer I’m likely to draw out the torture. It always ends well for her, but we’re under some time constraints. Based on the timer on the stove, I’m down to six and a half minutes to make her come.

That shouldn’t be a problem.

I suck softly on the barbell piercing the hood of her clit before pressing my tongue flat against it. My tongue ring clinks faintly against her barbell, and Tenley moans. I lift her feet onto my shoulders and keep up the hard licks, interspersed with light sucking and tongue swirls. She likes it all based on the moans and hair pulling.

I check the timer. I’m down to a minute and a half. “You better come soon, kitten, or the cupcakes are gonna burn.”

“You’re the one who loses if that happens. Maybe you should lick faster.”

She has a point. Still, I can’t let her get away with that kind of snark unpunished. I grab her hips and hold on so she can’t get away as I press the ball of my tongue ring hard against her clit and make tight circles. Tenley gasps and tries to bow forward, but there isn’t room for that to happen. Instead she’s forced to hold on to the cabinet pulls for balance.

“Holy fuuuuuck.” She starts bucking just as the timer goes off.

When the hip jerking stops and she goes limp, I push up off my knees and grab her tank top from the counter, using it to wipe my mouth. “Want me to check the cupcakes, kitten?”

She makes a noise rather than using an actual word, but I take it as a yes. I wash my hands before I shove them into the mitts and open the oven. The sweet aroma of fresh vanilla makes my mouth water instantly. These aren’t some Betty Crocker mix knockoffs. These are from scratch.

I use the tester thing, making sure it comes out clean before I take the cakes out and set them on the counter to cool.

Tenley’s still slouched against the cabinets with her legs splayed when I turn back to her. Since I didn’t use my fingers to warm her up, she’s decided to use her own. She has three buried in her perfect *, eyes locked on me as I pull my shirt over my head, drape it neatly over a chair, and then shove my pants and boxer briefs over my hips.

I give my cock a couple of strokes, ready to replace those fingers and chase down my own orgasm. “Looking for this, kitten?”

At my approach, Tenley removes her fingers and opens her legs wider. “Uh-huh.”

Since foreplay’s already been taken care of, I circle her clit with the head of my cock. The ball on the barbell that goes through one side and comes out the other makes a dull clink against her clit piercing. Tenley pushes my hand out of the way, wrapping her slick fingers around me. She’s the one who drags the head lower and slides a little closer to the edge of the counter, encouraging me to ease inside.

She’s still holding the cabinet pull with one hand, her gaze fixed on my cock as the head disappears. Once I’m past the piercing I give it a few seconds for her to adjust before I go any farther.

Her eyes flutter shut and she utters a soft f*ck when I go deeper. Once I’m all the way in, I cradle her cheek in my palm, fingers slipping into the hair at the nape of her neck.

Tenley tips her head up so I have access to her mouth. She sucks my bottom lip, then sweeps my mouth with her tongue, and I meet her stroke in a slow, warm tangle. I don’t move for a good minute or more, savoring the way it feels when she’s wrapped around me like this. This woman is my everything.

Tenley digs her heel into my ass, a sure sign she wants some friction. I pull out, maybe halfway, and ease back in.

She moans my name, running her hands over my shoulders and into my hair. The way she grips it is a litmus test for what she wants, and how hard she wants it. I’m more inclined to go easy on her, based on our location—granite counters aren’t very forgiving—but a change of position can make all the difference.