Page 153 of Pucking Sweet
She relaxes, letting me sink my tip in.
“Such a good fucking girl,” I croon. Oh, that’s the other thing. Our girl will do almost anything for praise. Cole and I can all but get her off just with our words. “Look at you taking my thick cock in your sweet little ass.”
She whimpers, pulling on her cuffs. “Please—”
I sink in deeper, thrusting in and out of her tight heat nice and slow. “Give me a toy,” I say at Cole. “We’re gonna fill all her holes tonight.”
He wastes no time snagging a pink vibrating dildo from her drawer. Lubing it up for me, he slides it into her pussy as I lean back.
“Fuuuck me,” I groan. This tightness is beyond anything. I press back in to the hilt, holding myself there as Cole turns the little toy on.
“Oh—god—” she shrieks, jerking hard on the chains as she comes. The vibrations from the toy buzz along my cock, straight up into my goddamn chest. Her ass clenches around me, and I thrust, riding her orgasm as she bears down.
“Cole, get in her fucking mouth,” I grunt. “Fill her. Our fucking queen.”
He’s already on the move. Using her headboard as leverage, he balances overtop her in a crouch. “Take this fucking cock,” he commands. “That’s my good girl. Look at you. Choke on it, baby. That’s it…”
She arches up, mouth open, desperate for him. The sound of her gagging sends me spiraling. I drop my hand between us and grip the base of the vibrating toy. I move it with my thrusts, finding a rhythm that has her trembling, overwhelmed by her orgasm. I feel like some kind of mythical, two-dicked monster, pleasuring my girl in both her tight holes.
“I’m coming,” I shout. She cries out, clenching around me as the heat of my release fills her.
“Swallow what I give you,” Cole pants. “Such a good girl. Swallow it.”
She’s gasping, her whole body wrung out. She squirms around me, and I know the toy is too much. I slowly pull it out, dropping it glistening and vibrating onto the bed. Cole stands, his feet plantedto either side of her head on the firm mattress. She looks down at me dreamily between his legs. Some of Cole’s cum is smeared on her chin. Her arms are still chained to the headboard.
Slowly, I pull out of her. Keeping her legs in the air, I look down, watching as I drip from her tight little hole. “Perfect,” I mutter, my heartbeat quickly returning to its resting rate. I trail my gaze back up her body to her beautiful blue eyes. All my walls are down. No more transactions, no receipts. I give her my words because I want to. I give them to her because she deserves them. “Poppy, you’re perfect.”
54
Isn’t it ironic that the moment your life starts to feel just a little too perfect, chaos inevitably descends. I woke up naked in bed, nestled between my two beautiful boyfriends…feeling sick as a dog. I stumbled to the bathroom and barely got the door shut before I was puking into the sink.
Note to self: Don’t eat day-old sushi. Lukas brought, like, eight boxes of it home from the store because it was on sale. After a marathon of amazing sex, we ate it on the couch watchingNight on Earth. It tasted good at the time, but now I’m fisting a bottle of Pepto as I argue with Julie in VIP services.
This day has officially gone to hell in a freaking hand basket. It’s a home game tonight, Rays versus the Kraken, and I’m expected at the arena in two hours. But a glitch in our computer system means we’ve oversold our behind-the-scenes “Meet the Rays” tickets by more than double. All the notifications have already gone out, and neither Todd in ticketing nor Julie seem to know what the heck we do about it.
Oh, and Bryson, the rookie who drove his car into a sand dune, was just handed two hundred hours of community service and a felony misdemeanor charge. The news already broke on all the networks. My contact over at the police department was apparently trying to warn me all morning, but my office phonestilldoesn’t work!
Did I mention my “check engine” light came on this morning?
See what I mean? Chaos.
Oh, and in a total bitch move, Violet just took away my “plus one” invite to the wedding. She says it’s because they had some last-minute asks for more invites. And since I’ll besobusy with my maid of honor duties, I don’t need a date there feeling bored and alone.
I swear, she is so freaking transparent. This really is my absolute limit. She just wants me there looking sad and pathetic. How can I do that if I’m dancing in the arms of my gorgeous NHL boyfriends? I get limiting me to one guest, but now she’s saying I can’t bringeitherof them? Who’s going to hold me back from cunt-punching Olivia when she says my dress looks unflattering on my body type?
Pushing back from my desk, cell phone to my ear, I keep arguing with Julie. “No—I’m telling you we’ll just have to postpone them to a later game.” I stuff my feet into my heels. “Because we don’t have permission to move that many people behind the scenes, Julie. I have approval for fifty people, not two hundred and fifty. Security will have a field day if we—ahh—”
A hissing sound in the ceiling is all the warning I get before the emergency sprinklers activate. I throw my hands over my head as icy cold water sprays down, drenching me, my laptop, all my paperwork.
“What the hell is happening?” I scream.
Moving fast, I sweep as much as I can off the desk and into my bag. I stumble out of my office into the hallway. Several other people have come out too, looking scared, confused, and very wet.
“Is there a fire?” asks Brandi.
“No alarms are going off,” says Greg, looking around.
“Does anyone smell smoke?”
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