Page 6 of Pucked Up (Punk as Puck #2)

He removed his hand immediately, turning back around. I could see a slight tremble in his thighs as he knee-walked closer, and he dropped a condom on my lower stomach. “Do you want to put it on?”

He was asking without asking if I had the function to do it. I did. But instead of that, I tore it open and then pressed the curled edges against his lips.

“Open.”

He obeyed. I tucked it in front of his teeth and smiled. It had to taste like absolute shit, but he showed no signs of caring. He just nodded when I pushed my legs further apart and then gestured at my dick.

He knew. Somehow, he knew exactly what I wanted without me having to say it.

His head dipped low, and then he gripped my dick in his slick hand and fit the tip of the condom around the head.

Sucking in a breath through his nose, his lips closed around me, and then he sank down—a single swallow to engulf me in latex and spit.

He pulled off with a small gag, then looked up at me with dark, watery eyes. “Do you want to fuck me now?”

There was no question. I reached up, grasping the tops of his shoulders as I guided him over me.

His legs were thick, powerful, and strong as they settled around mine.

He kept our gazes locked as he reached behind him, smearing the last of the lube over me, and then I felt the head catch on his rim.

“Go slow,” I begged. “Please.” I was too fucking close just from the thought of this.

He nodded, only a faint tremble to his body now as he took a breath, then began to sit.

Inch by inch, I took him. It was so slow it could have driven a man to insanity, but I had been trained in the art of patience. My fingers fought the urge to grasp him, to force him to sit, then bounce.

Instead, I held the sheets at my sides as I watched.

And I waited.

He took me deeper, deeper, until his full weight finally settled on me.

I gasped, unable to help it, as my cock thickened deep inside him.

“Feels good.” His words were slightly slurred, his eyes half-lidded. “Won’t last. Been so long.”

Could that be true? My hands released the sheets, and I dug fingers into his hips, holding him steady. How could it have been a while for him? He was so goddamn good at this and so beautiful.

“Why?”

His eyes met mine. “That’s against the rules.”

Shit. It was. Focus, Boden. Fucking focus. Knee dimples, damn it. He probably had butt dimples too. And ugly pinky toes.

“Get on with it, then,” I snapped.

His eyes widened, and then he laughed. The sound was…sweet. It was full and rich and unrestrained. It sounded nothing like when one of the gu ys managed to pull one out of me. He was freer than I had ever felt in my life.

What it must be like to be a man so fucking unburdened.

I kind of hated him for it.

And I also never wanted this to end.

Digging my fingers into his hips, I squeezed until he hissed. “Ride me faster.”

He licked his lips and then reached forward to grab the top of the headboard. It gave a hard thunk against the wall, and for a brief moment, I felt sorry for whoever was next door. Then he lifted his gorgeous ass and slammed it back down on me, and I no longer gave a shit.

“Yeah. Fuck. Like that,” I grunted. My hips were trying to match his rhythm, but all that happened was another spasm rocketing through my lower limbs.

He didn’t seem to mind. He glanced behind him at my feet for a brief second, then met my gaze. It was too intimate. It was too intense. But he didn’t let go. Up and down, up and down, he took my cock like he was made to do it.

“You like that, don’t you, petit feu?”

All the air was sucked from my lungs, and my cock kicked fat and heavy inside him.

His grin turned into a smirk, and he gripped me by the jaw so hard it hurt. “I fucking thought so. You like being pinned. Like being forced to take it. To have your come pulled from your body by a wet, needy asshole. ”

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. He was right. I was there beneath him, at his mercy, and yet…I loved it.

“I knew it the moment I saw you—that fire in you. You don’t mind giving up control, but you want someone to fight you for it.”

My entire body felt like it was burning. How could he know me in just a few short minutes? I couldn’t have been obvious. If I were, someone before him would have noticed. Someone would have cared…wouldn’t they?

My chest started to feel a little tight, and my hands were no longer cooperating. I had no choice but to sit beneath him, every muscle in my body stiff and spasming as he rode my cock into oblivion. I could see when he was close too. His eyes grew half-lidded, his thrusts less coordinated.

I did my best to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth, but even that muscle was overwhelmed by him. “Nn. Nn.”

He glanced down at me. “You want to come?”

I swallowed heavily. “Now.”

He squeezed around me, his ass more talented than half the guys on my beer league team.

The grip of him around me was just enough that I couldn’t hold it back any longer.

My head thudded against the headboard, my eyes slamming shut as I let go.

I filled the condom with heavy pulses of come, so much that I was worried it was going to start dribbling out of the latex.

I still couldn’t speak, and my hearing was eclipsed by a heavy ringing that only allowed me to catch the last grunt he gave before he slammed down hard and spilled all over my chest.

And he’d done it untouched.

I did that to him. My body, my cock. I’d pulled an orgasm out of him without him needing to touch himself to get off.

I felt high on that. It was even better than shooting my load inside him.

Or, well, maybe not, but it was really fucking close.

My breath was heaving in my chest still when he rolled off me, and after he stared at my fingers, which were twitching uselessly against the sheets, he pulled the condom off and tied the end before tossing it into the bin.

I made a mental note to leave a few extra dollars for the housekeeper who had to clean this mess up tomorrow.

Jean-Luc flopped on the mattress, his head near the foot of the bed, and he turned to look at me. I still couldn’t move, but my body was finally starting to relax.

“Are you hurt?”

I wanted to be insulted by the question, but his tone was genuine. It took me a moment to find the strength to shake my head. “I’m fine.” My words were raspy but clear, and he grinned again.

Fuck, I hated that little smile on his face.

Pushing up on his elbow, he stared at me—first at my dick, then at the mess he’d made, which stretched all the way up my chest. His smile turned a little dark and maybe even possessive. “I’d offer to wipe that up, but I think we both might need a shower after that.”

I managed a soft “ ha! ” and shook my head. “There’s not a chance in hell that shower’s accessible for me.”

He tilted his head to the side as he surveyed my body. “I can make it work.”

Before I could argue with him, he was in the bathroom, and then I heard the shower running. My chest went warm again. I didn’t want this. I didn’t . I didn’t want my fucking hookup taking care of me.

Goddamn it!

So why was I sitting there twitching in anticipation of his strong arms lifting me up and doing what no one ever had before? He appeared back in the doorway, crossing the room with powerful strides, and he lifted me up into a bridal carry without asking.

I hated it. And for some reason—maybe in spite of him or maybe because it was him—I fucking loved it.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

Oh God.

I was fucked.