Pucked Over (Pucked #3)

Lily bends her knees, her toes curling against my ribs. She hooks her thumbs into her panties and pushes them over her hips. “I don’t think we have enough time for all this teasing. Someone’s going to notice we’re gone. You should probably get in there and do your thing.”


I glance up. Her cheeky grin falters a little, and her throat bobs with what could be a nervous swallow, or possibly anticipation. “You rushing me?” I ask.

“I’m just saying.” She shimmies her panties down a little farther until they hit my nose. “We can always sneak up here again later. It’s not like this is going to be the only opportunity. Right?”

“Here’s hoping.”





Chapter 10


Do it in the Dark



LILY



Randy tears my underwear off. Just shreds them with his bare hands. Okay, no he doesn’t. I asked him not to. But he does stare at me intently as he removes them, slowly. It’s almost unnerving. It’s also superhot. I’m so naked. There’s nothing but skin and his hands. Shadows move across the wall as lights flicker outside, highlighting all the defined, insanely hot muscles flexing in his arms.

Randy’s broad shoulders are right between my thighs, and that mouth of his is about to hit my hot spot. I’m so ready. I’m also a little worried about how fast I’m going to come. Everything’s already starting to tighten up, and I’ve got that familiar tingly feeling going on. It’s not from the mint-cucumber wipes, either. I don’t want to give him anything else to brag about. He’s smug enough as it is.

He smoothes his rough hands over the insides of my thighs. God, that tattooed arm is sexy as hell. I hope those fingers are the ones he puts inside me. Apparently Randy takes me seriously on the time-constraint business; he doesn’t bother teasing me anymore. Instead, he lifts my ass and drops his head.

I don’t know what I expect. Maybe a little kissy-kiss on the lips first, or one of those flat-stroke test licks, or even a nose rub. That sure isn’t what I get. Randy closes his mouth over my clit and sucks like he’s the black hole of cunnilingus. I have zero control over my body’s reaction. I jolt like I’ve been shocked. And honestly, that’s kind of how it feels—like I’ve been zapped in the vagina.

I bow off the bed, fighting to stay at least a little composed. The last time he did this—against a bathroom wall while I was sitting on his shoulders—I couldn’t stop the orgasm from bitch slapping me across the magic marble. Randy lifts me higher and does a crazy swirl thing with his tongue.

I don’t have traction anymore; my feet are barely touching the mattress. I find purchase on his thigh and turn my head into the covers so I can groan without letting anyone in the hall know how much I’m enjoying being Randy’s dinner, or dessert, or his goddamn sex buffet. His teeth graze my clit as he resumes sucking. I can’t handle it. I’m right at the edge, knocking on orgasm’s door.

“Holy fu—” I bite the side of my hand to stop all the sounds from coming out. That’s when the trembling starts. Every single cell in my body is electrified. I wish there was more light. It’s mostly shadow where his head is, and his hair keeps tickling my thighs, adding to the sensation. Not that it matters right now—the entire world goes white. The comforter bunches in my hands. I know I’m writhing around, probably making it difficult for him to keep his mouth on me, but I can’t help it. It’s the best orgasm I’ve had in my entire life.

There’s movement on the bed that isn’t associated with my ridiculous thrashing. Randy’s legs are no longer on either side of me, under the covers, preventing me from throwing myself off the bed in my orgasmic zeal. Not to worry, though, now he’s right in my face. He swipes the back of his hand across his mouth and then his lips are on mine: hard, demanding, and oh so hot.

I don’t even have time to recover. He finds my wet, swollen clit—at least I’m guessing it’s swollen based on how much sucking he did—and starts rubbing again. I don’t think I’ve even finished having one orgasm and already he’s inciting another. It’s insane.

Just when I’m sure I can’t handle any more, he goes low and slides a single finger inside me. After two slow thrusts, he adds a second one. I’d say it’s unnecessary preparation, but based on the domes he’s packing, I think it might be wise to let him finger-bang me. Besides, who am I to say no to yet another orgasm? He breaks our kiss and sits back on his knees. Even with the subpar lighting situation, I can see he’s tenting his boxers. And yes, he is using the fingers on the tattooed arm to get me off.

Helena Hunting's books