Page 72 of Puck
“Oh . . .ohhhh. Oh god, Puck. Ireallylike that,” she breathed.
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
I stiffened my tongue and kept going, and she whimpered again.
“But—”
I glanced up at her. “But what, babe?”
She blushed, which seemed silly, but I had a feeling she wasn’t used to asking for what she wanted, not in so many words, and especially not this, which she’d admitted she’d never done before. “Your finger.”
I spat on my hand and applied the saliva to her, working it against the knot of muscle, and I felt her tighten at my touch. “Relax, babe.”
“I’m trying.”
“Don’t try—just enjoy it.” I teased her with my finger, touching, pressing, but not pushing in.
She moaned at my torture, flexing her hips toward me as she warmed to the feeling. “What if—what if I touched myself . . . while you touched me back there?”
“I have a better idea,” I said. “Stay just like that, hands on the wall.”
I pivoted and put my back to the marble floor and slid underneath her, and saw her staring down at me past the mound of her breasts.
“Oh god.” She reached down and cupped the side of my head. “Yes. That. That’s a much better idea.”
She guided me where she wanted me, holding on to the back of my head as I moved in to taste the sweet sugar of her pussy. Because she tasted like heaven, sweet and smoky and delicious, a taste I’d never get tired of. I worked my finger slowly inside her and used my tongue to work her up to orgasm, bringing her there as fast as I could, no games, no teasing. Just my finger in the tight, clamping channel of her asshole and her pussy grinding on my mouth, her hand clutching me hard against her, rocking into me, crying out, wailing loudly as she came apart. I tasted her as she came, lapped and licked and sucked away her juices as she gushed all over my face, my finger pulsing in and out of her. She was still convulsing through her orgasm when I stood up behind her and slid into her, helpless to stop myself. Her pussy clamped down around me as I fucked into her, and she moaned even harder, moving with me until I was at the edge myself, and her fingers were still moving on her clit, and I felt her clamp down and heard her cry out as a second orgasm wrenched through her.
I nearly didn’t pull out in time. I felt it hit like an earthquake, and only barely yanked myself out of her tight, warm slit. Colbie whirled as I pulled out and wrapped her hands around me, sliding her fists along my length until I collapsed forward against her, pressing my face into her wet tits and gasping raggedly as I exploded, my come spurting all over her sliding fists, all over her belly, all over mine.
“Holy shit, Puck,” she breathed into my ear.
“Holy shit,” I agreed. “You’re always gorgeous, but you’re never sexier than when you’re coming.”
She pushed me backward, and we both glanced down at the mess I’d made. “Good thing we’re in the shower, huh?” she asked, laughing. “The truth is, I feel sexy when you make me come.” She grabbed the shower gel and began working it into my skin. “Feel free to make me come as much as you want, as long as you want, any way you want, whenever you want.”
I let out a harsh breath at her words. “That’s an awfully open-ended invitation, Colbie.”
She was lathering the soap over my ass as she answered, taking extra time there, playing with me as if she enjoyed my ass as much as I enjoyed hers. “It was meant to be, Puck.” She worked the soap up my back and then down my chest again, and then sank to her knees to wash my calves and then my thighs. “This—you and me, how you make me feel—I don’t think I can let go of it. I can’t give it up. It feels too amazing. Emotionally, physically, you just . . . you get me.”
“Colbie, I—”
“You get me, Puck.” She gazed at me so I could see the genuineness and vulnerability in her. “You get me, so . . . yougetme. For as long as you want me.”
I let out a breath. “Cole, honey.” Her face twisted in an expression that was equal parts pain and pleasure. “What if I never stop wanting you?” It was a rhetorical question, and she knew it, didn’t bother answering, but her sweet, hopeful smile told me everything I needed to know.
We washed each other’s hair and rinsed once more, and finally shut off the now lukewarm water.
We dried off, wrapped ourselves in towels, and then sat on the couch, and the conversation that followed was easy and endless, helped along by more of that amazing Scotch.
I’d long since lost track of time, and the only clock was in the bedroom and the blinds were drawn, and I didn’t care what time it was. Late night, or early morning. I didn’t care. When we were both buzzed, I tugged Colbie to her feet, yanked the towel off her, shed my own, and we fell into bed. I pulled her against my side, her head on my shoulder, the blankets up around us. She threw her leg over mine, pulled my face down hers, and kissed me stupid.
Kissed me breathless.
A kiss that was a Kiss, another one that swept me away, sent me delving into the depths of this wild, powerful thing I’d found in this wild, powerful woman.
This time, though, the kiss faded, and our eyes closed, and we fell asleep like that, nuzzled together.