Page 58 of My Pucking Crush

Max

I ’ve never felt this goddamn alive.

With our lips pressed together, I keep thrusting, and the air crackles. Waves build inside me again. I’m with a man who truly cares about me. Fuck, he killed for me.

That heightens my pleasure, and now I’m at the brink again. The tension overlaps, compounding the ecstasy.

“Luca,” I rasp his name.

The friction of my cock in his ass is an unbearable but addicting heat, and I don’t want it to end. The room spins and Luca’s thighs tighten around my waist to the point of pain.

He mutters something in Russian and it’s so fucking sexy. His lips look bruised from my rough mouth, the skin reddened and grazed from my playoff beard.

And just like that I’m falling over the edge. But I don’t come inside his ass, I pull out and jerk off, letting him see what he does to me.

He grabs his own dick, dripping and ready to come again. I push the heads together, dual slits erupting at nearly the same time.

I roughly grab Luca’s jaw and crash my mouth on his. I kiss the shit out of him. My tongue tastes every inch inside his mouth, sweet and sultry. The grainy feel of his tongue sparks another memory, but I fight it. Paint it over with a man who would never hurt me that way.

Luca .

Luca.

Luca.

I scream his name in my brain, washing away Uncle Harris. I push all of that away, feeling my orgasm fade. I only want to give every climax to this man beneath me.

Luca sucks on my tongue, his arms wrapped around me. It’s the first time I feel like we’re not just fuck-buddies, but lovers.

That this is love.

Sweat beads trickle down my back, spilling over the sides. This is the hottest night of my life.

When I open my eyes, Luca stares at me. “You are the most gorgeous man.”

I heave a sloppy laugh, spittle dripping from my mouth. I didn’t need to hear that, but I know he’s sincere.

“You take me so good. My cock is home inside you,” I whisper in a hoarse voice. How I feel is more important than spewing a reciprocal compliment.

I sit back, drained. Like I can sleep for a week.

But I can’t. I can’t even take a break.

My mother expects me to come home tomorrow to pay respects to Coach Avalon. Who of all people would rather me be training and prepping for a game than looking down at his dead body in a useless casket.

To my mom, me not showing up is a negative reflection on her. Everything is about them. Not Coach Avalon, whose death is slowly catching up to me.

I have to break it to Luca—that we have to wake up in a few hours to get on the road. Before I mention the trip, which will make him wrench away and start the taxing process of figuring out how to protect me in an unknown environment, I hold him. Nuzzle against his neck.

His arms come up around me and he squeezes. “Hey, you okay?” His gruff voice from the massive orgasm hasn’t reset yet.

“Yeah.” I sink into his embrace. “This was incredible. And now you’re going to hate me.”