Page 95 of Pucking Sweet

He senses my hesitation and folds himself over me, cupping my face. “What is it?” His walnut-brown eyes search my face.

Lost in those dark pools, I dare to ask, “Can you call me your queen again?”

His smile lights up his entire face as he kisses me. I melt into it, my body half-turned like a twisty pretzel. He smooths his free hand up my thigh and over my ass. His every touch and kiss are so possessive and claiming. “You wanna be my queen, baby?”

I nod as he kisses down my jaw.

“You want me to worship you? Pledge you my fucking fealty?”

“Yes,” I say on a breath. His head drops lower so he can suck on my breast. He palms the other one. My breasts are small, barely enough to fill a hand, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“You like being owned, but you’re possessive too, aren’t you?”

My body shivers as he flicks at my nipple with his tongue. “Yes,” I say again.

“Don’t I fucking know it.” He moves to my other breast. He didn’tget to play with them in the elevator. There was no time. My bra never even came off. “My queen has sharp claws,” he teases. “Fuck, I’d love to watch you shred anyone who tried to touch me. I’m getting harder just thinking about it.” He takes me by the wrist and tugs my hand down, letting me feel how hard his cock is for me, how ready.

I wrap my hand around his tip. “Colton…”

“Yes, my queen?”

I smile, lost in my bliss. “Will you please fuck me now?”

His laugh is warm against my skin. “Yes, my queen. I’m gonna use some lube this time so you feel good, okay?”

I nod and he kisses me again.

“Perfect. Now, be a good girl, and get on your hands and knees for me. Let me show you how you deserve to be worshipped, body and fucking soul.”

31

Poppy rolls onto her stomach for me. She’s stretched out naked on this bed, and I can’t look away. Her every curve is perfect—the tight roundness of her ass, the soft little hills of her breasts. One orgasm has her feeling loose and relaxed. I want to pull at least two more from her before I let her sleep.

She came apart so beautifully for me just now. And she tastes divine, soft and sweet, with just the perfect hint of feminine musk. It’s been two days since I last tasted her, since I last held her in my arms. The wanting her is shredding me apart. It was all I could do to not break speed limits just so I could get here by ten o’clock tonight. And I’ll have to go back to Orlando in the morning.

It’s not my mom’s fault she picked this week to move, but damn if the timing isn’t inconvenient. Instead of showering Poppy with affection, I’ve spent the last two days hooking up TVs and unpacking plates in my mom’s new lakeview condo.

But I’m not thinking about Orlando right now. No, my every thought is centered on the naked woman in the middle of this bed. She wants to be worshipped and adored? I’m about to show her the meaning of the words.

“Like this?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder as she gets to her hands and knees.

“Perfect.” I crawl onto the bed behind her, grabbing her little blue wand and the bottle of lube. I’m curious to know what other toys my Poppy might play with when I’m not here, but this will do for now. More than anything, I just need to be inside her again. I need to feel that hum of connection with her, soul to soul.

I pop the cap off the lube and squeeze some into my hand, working it down my shaft with a groan. I can’t even think about thiswoman without getting hard. It’s becoming a real problem. Hell, I was hard for half the drive up here. I had to turn on a true crime podcast just to try to get some goddamn relief.

Scooting closer, I smooth my lube-free hand over the rounded curve of her ass. She shivers at my touch, her hips moving reflexively as she backs into my hand, craving more contact. She’s so responsive. I think she might be physically needy, like me. Now that I know I can touch her, it’s gonna be damn hard for me to stop.

I snake my other hand between her thighs, flipping my palm up to run my lubed fingers through her wetness. “Are you ready for me?”

She drops down on a little moan, burying her face in the crook of her elbow. “Mhmm.” Her hair is down, tousled over her back, and her little asshole peeks out at me between her cheeks. We’re not going there tonight, but fuck if I haven’t already thought about how tight she’ll fit me.

I fist my cock at the base, guiding my tip between her legs. We both groan at the first slide of my shaft along her wet silk. “Fuck, you feel so good,” I say, reveling in the feel of doing this without a condom.

Even now, an alarm bell is dinging in my head that I should stop and put one on. Hockey players are read the riot act from an early age: no rubber, no ride. I can count on one hand the number of girlfriends I’ve taken bare. In fact, I can count it on half a hand. It’s a gift, and a sign of trust, and I won’t be squandering it. To feel her like this, to connect with her on this level after so long of dreaming and waiting—god, I’m already about to lose my load.

She presses those hips against me, seeking more, and I know she’s ready. I prod her entrance, finding the right angle. Her wet heat pulls me in as she pushes back, but I catch her, my hold firm on her hips. “Go slow,” I direct. “Let me stretch you out first.” I curl over her, kissing her shoulder. “I only ever want to bring you pleasure.”

She pushes up onto her hands, adjusting her hips as she sinks deeper on me. Once I’m halfway, I move my hand, letting it smooth over her ass and up the curve of her back until I’m bracing her by the neck. Heat spirals out from our shared point of connection. Heart racing, I move my hips, pumping deeper into her until she’s humming out another breathy moan.