Pucked Off (The Pucked Series)

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Pucked Off (The Pucked Series) Page 21

by Helena Hunting


  She smiles. “Would it be better if I go first?”

  “Maybe, aye?” I haven’t let anyone else undress me, ever. Not even Tash.

  Poppy doesn’t look away as she lifts one arm and pulls the hidden zipper on the side of her dress down.

  I sit up straighter and kiss along her shoulder as I move the strap aside, revealing an emerald green bra, nearly the same color as her dress. I mutter a low curse and bite her shoulder when my cock kicks.

  Poppy sucks in a breath.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.”

  I slide my hands under the hem, over her hips and stomach, and pull the dress up. Emerald green lace panties make an appearance, followed by the matching bra.

  I lift the fabric over her head and groan. If I allowed myself to have a type, Poppy would be it. She’s curvy, her lush breasts straining against the delicate lace cups.

  “Fuckin’ell.” I drag gentle fingertips over the swell of her breasts and drop my face into her cleavage. She smells like lavender and something sweet. I want to put my mouth on every inch of her. And my hands. Any part of her I can touch with any part of my body is what I want. Need. Crave.

  Eventually I stop nuzzling her breasts and lift my head. “You’re fucking perfect, Poppy.”

  Her cheeks are hot pink. “I’m not really.”

  “Perfect. Every inch.”

  “I could probably stand to go to the gym more.”

  “Fuck the gym. I’ll be your workout. As many days of the week as you want. I’ll be the best workout you’ve ever had.”

  She laughs and goes for the first button on my shirt. She’s slow about the process, her fingertips grazing bare skin each time until she pulls my shirt from the waistband of my pants and parts the two sides.

  She hums. “Your body is incredible, but I guess you already know that.”

  “It serves its purpose.”

  “Which is what, exactly?”

  “It got me a great career and here, in your bed, with you.”

  “Your body didn’t get you into this bed.” Poppy plays with the tails of my shirt.

  “No?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Then what did?”

  Her expression is gentle. “Your sweetness.”

  I laugh. “I hate to break it to you, precious, but I’m pretty fucking far from sweet.”

  “I disagree. You’ve been nothing but sweet with me.” She grins and then grows serious. “I want to touch you.”

  “Then that’s what you should do.”

  She keeps her eyes on mine as she pushes the shirt over my shoulders and down my arms. She removes one sleeve, then the other, and when I’m shirtless, she skims my chest with feather-light fingers.

  I’m tense, but when her contact isn’t followed by the sensation of ants crawling over my skin, I relax.

  “Do you like that?” she asks. “Does it feel nice?”

  “It feels fucking amazing.”

  Poppy licks her lips. “Do you think you might like it if I put my mouth on you?”

  She’s not offering to blow me—at least I don’t think she is. She’s just offering me a different kind of touch.

  I’ve had a lot of women say a lot of dirty things to me. I’ve had a lot of fucked-up sex over the years, but this obliterates every single experience. For the first time ever, I’m not trying to find creative ways to keep her hands off me. I’m not looking for an escape. I’m not wasted and trying to feel something other than pain, or allow the pain to take me over.

  “Where you thinkin’ about putting your mouth?”

  “Well.” Poppy bites the end of her finger then touches it to my lips. “I’d like to start here and maybe work my way down. Does that sound acceptable?”

  “That sounds way better than acceptable.”

  “I think so, too.”

  Poppy kisses me again. Her lips are tentative and warm. She moves along the side of my neck to my shoulder. She drops down so her ass is resting on my thighs, giving her access to my chest. Those pretty green eyes lock on mine as her tongue flicks out against my nipple.

  “Ah, fuck.” I want to shove my hands in her hair and guide her mouth lower. But I keep them on her thighs instead, because I can’t rush this.

  “Would you like to lie down?” Poppy asks.

  “Sure. Yeah.”

  I hold on to her waist and ease down the bed so my head is resting on the pillows. Poppy’s lace-covered pussy is now right on top of my erection. Based on the way her eyes go wide and dart to mine, she feels it when it jerks.

  I don’t let go of her hips; instead I rock her over me a few times. She makes this quiet, needy noise I want to hear a fuckton more of. Poppy reaches behind her and unclasps her bra. She holds the cups as the straps slide down her arms, keeping herself covered as she slips her arms through.

  I’m still rocking her over me when she drops the bra on my stomach. She’s still holding her breasts, though, being all modest. Or maybe a little playful, since so far it’s been pretty fucking intense, and we’re not even fully undressed.

  “Maybe we should take your pants off,” she suggests. “Since I’m more naked than you are now.”

  “Aye, maybe we should.”

  “That would make it a bit more fair, wouldn’t it?”

  “It would,” I agree.

  And that’s when she drops her hands and goes for my belt. It’s an orchestrated distraction. The freckles on her shoulders trickle down to the top of her breasts. Poppy’s creamy white skin contrasts perfectly with the rosy pink of her nipples. Which I want to kiss and lick and suck, but she’s busy right now, popping the button on my dress pants. The zipper goes down, and Poppy shifts so she’s sitting beside me. I lift my hips so she can pull them down. I’m commando, so there’s no hiding my erection as it springs free.

  Poppy gives a low whistle. “You’re really not compensating at all.” She pulls my pants down the rest of the way, along with my socks.

  “I have condoms in my wallet. It’s in the back pocket.”

  “That’s good, because I don’t think the ones I have will be very comfortable.” She sets my wallet on my chest.

  “Probably not.” I flip it open and pull one out, dropping it on the bed before I toss my wallet on the nightstand. She eyes the foil wrapper and tucks her thumbs into the waistband of her panties.

  I sit up. “I wanna help with that.”

  Poppy drops her hands by her side. I don’t go straight for her panties. Instead I cup her breasts and kiss each pert nipple, following with a lick and an indulgent suck.

  Her hands go into my hair, and she whispers, “Oh, God.” I stay there for a little while, appreciating the quiet, non-bunny sounds that come out of her. She doesn’t shriek or squeal or scream. It makes me acutely aware of how much I don’t want that any more and never really did. It was just another escape.

  I pull her panties over her hips, but I have to stop with the nipple sucking and breast fondling in order to get them the rest of the way off. I’ve never wanted my hands in more places at once like I do right now.

  I rise up on my knees in front of her. It forces her to tilt her head up. “Poppy.” It’s mostly a groan.

  She runs her hands over my chest. “Lance.” It comes out breathless.

  I squeeze her hip and shift my hand, fingers drifting low. I slip one between her legs, hot and wet greeting me. “I wanna kiss you right here.”

  Her mouth drops open, brow furrowing, her grip on my shoulders tightening.

  “Will you let me do that?” I find her clit and circle it. “Kiss you here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want me to kiss you here?” I ask, because letting and wanting are not the same. I let Tash do a lot of things I didn’t want any part of. I don’t ever want to do anything like that to Poppy.

  “Yes.” She skims my bottom lip with her fingertip. “I want to know what your mouth feels like.”

  “You know what I want?” I lay her do
wn, fanning her hair out.

  She shakes her head.

  I straddle her, because if I get between her legs now, there’s no way I’ll be able to follow through on what I want. Or what she said she wants.

  I kiss her before I answer. “I want to know what you sound like when you come.” Then I swallow her moan as I take her mouth.

  We kiss while I caress her breasts and down her sides. Then I start a languorous descent over her body, stopping at her nipples, at the dip in her waist, and to nibble at her hip before I edge a knee between hers.

  Poppy parts her thighs, and I get comfortable, stretching out so my legs are hanging off the end of the bed. I spread her open and drop a wet kiss on that pretty little clit.

  Poppy drags in a breath. I move my lips to the inside of her thigh and nip there before going back to her clit, again and again. I lick her until she comes, and my name is a hoarse cry on her lips. And then I do it again, because she tastes like she’s made for me, and I’m already addicted to the sound of her when I give her exactly what she needs.

  Which I want to be me.

  She’s glassy eyed and flush cheeked by the time I’m done. I hover over her and slide two fingers inside, pumping slow.

  Her eyes roll up, and when they come back down, she raises a shaky hand and presses it to my cheek. “I want you.”

  “Right now?”

  She bites her lip and nods, then searches the comforter for the condom. When she finds it, she puts a hand on my chest. “Can I put it on?”

  At this point, she hasn’t had her hand on my cock. I’m not sure how I’m going to handle that. I’m not worried about having her touch me; I’m worried about how quickly I’m going to come when she does. But I don’t want to say no to her.

  “Is that what you want?” I ask.

  “Only if you want me to.” She gives me my words back.

  “I want.” I sit back on my knees, and she follows. But she doesn’t tear the wrapper open as her long hair sweeps over my thighs. She wraps her fingers around my cock, holding it steady. Then she looks up at me and bends forward to kiss the tip.

  “Poppy.” It’s a guttural sound.

  She follows with a lick. “Does that feel good?”

  “Yeah, really good.”

  “I want to do that again, if you want me to.”

  “You really don’t ha—”

  “But do you want me to?” I can feel her hot breath as it breaks across the head. My cock jerks in her hand.

  “Put my dick in your mouth?” I don’t mean for it to sound so crass, and judging from the way her cheeks flush even pinker, she’s not used to hearing it.

  “Yes. Do you want my mouth on you?”

  “Fuck, Poppy. Yes.”

  She opens her pretty, perfect mouth and covers the head. Her tongue swirls around and around before she pops off.

  “How does that feel?”

  I move her hair away from her face. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to come before I can get inside you.”

  “One more time, then?”

  How the fuck can I say no to that? I close my eyes and give her a tight nod.

  This time she licks around the entire head with an open mouth before she covers it, taking more of me in. Then she starts bobbing, going deeper with each pass. I’ll definitely come if she keeps going, and while I’m positive I can get hard again, I don’t want to miss this opportunity, or lose this moment.

  “Precious…” I cup her cheek, my thumb following the curve of her bottom lip where it’s wrapped around my cock. She looks up at me with wide, sweet eyes. Jesus fucking Christ, how did I manage to get into this girl’s bed? “I need you to stop.”

  She makes a little noise, like maybe she doesn’t want to, but she lets me ease her off. I pull her up and kiss her, probably harder than I should. She moans into my mouth when my tongue finds hers.

  I need a minute to calm the fuck down before I get inside her, but Poppy seems to have other ideas. She tears the condom open.

  “Just hold on, ’kay?” I cover her hand with mine.

  “Is everything all right?” Worry makes her voice low.

  “Yeah, yeah.” I stroke her cheek. “I’m a little too jacked right now, and I don’t want this to be over before it even gets started.”

  “Oh.” She grins.

  “Are you smirking at me?”

  “Do you want me to smirk at you?” she asks, all sassy sweet.

  “I’ll tell you what I want.” I lay her down, shifting her until her head rests on the pillows, her red hair spread across the pale green.

  “What’s that?” she asks, reaching up for me with the hand that isn’t holding the condom.

  “I wanna know what it feels like to be inside you.”

  “Then you should find out.”

  I straddle her hips so she can put the condom on, which I’ve never let anyone else do. Her fingers are gentle and warm as she grips me, and it feels so fucking good. Everything about her is perfect. She rolls the condom down my shaft, her eyes lifting to mine when I’m sheathed. I have to fight not to rush this; I want to be in her so badly.

  I shift so I’m between her parted thighs. Lowering myself, I slide one hand under her shoulder so I can cradle the back of her head, and I use the other one to guide me.

  And then it’s so much more than just hot and wet. It’s more than chasing down an orgasm. It’s like I’m being enveloped in everything good, and I don’t want it to stop. I keep my eyes on hers as I sink into her body.

  Her mouth drops open, and my name comes out a whisper.

  “You feeling that?” I ask.

  She whispers a nearly silent yes, and her fingertips drift down my cheek and over my lips. I see her fear. I feel it echoing around in my chest. But I smile. And after a moment, she smiles too.

  I get it now, that this is the way it’s supposed to be. This feeling is what I’ve been missing. I slip my finger under the back of her knee and pull her leg up, wrapping it around my waist.

  If I could find a way to be any more inside her, I would.

  I kiss her as I move until we can’t keep the rhythm any more. I hold myself above her, our eyes locked. The only sounds are her soft pleas for me not to stop, and the whispered affirmation that I make her feel so good.

  When I make her come, it’s exactly how I thought it would be—like my world will end if I can’t have her like this again. For the first time in my entire life, I understand what it means to be with someone who will give and not just take.

  CHAPTER 18

  AFTERGLOW

  POPPY

  I half expect Lance to leave when the sex is over.

  I don’t know why. Beyond his intensity, which is high, he’s been incredibly attentive—in bed and out of it. Maybe I’m expecting it because this kind of sex entails a lot of connection for someone who seems to have a significant aversion to it.

  I’m wrapped up in him, both of my hands caught in one of his against his chest. I assume it’s his way of keeping me close without giving me free rein to touch him. His other hand glides up and down my arm. We’re still on top of the covers, never having made it under them for the sex part.

  My bed is a double. Lance takes up a good two-thirds of the space, and his feet hang off the end. I’ve considered upgrading to a queen, but it hasn’t been much of a priority as I’ve been sleeping alone for the better part of a year. It’s not that I haven’t dated. It’s that I haven’t found anyone I’m particularly interested in. Until now, of course.

  But I have no idea what’s going to happen with Lance beyond tonight. His wanting to “see where it goes” could’ve been a ploy to end up here. Although it seems an elaborate ploy, if that’s the case.

  “Do you have to be up early tomorrow?” he asks.

  “No. I don’t have appointments until the afternoon, and tomorrow is a light day.”

  There’s a long pause before he asks uncertainly, “Can I stay?”

  I lift my head so I can see if his
expression matches his tone. “Here?”

  His eyes shift away. “Or I can go. Whatever.” He releases my hands and pushes up on one elbow.

  “I don’t want you to go.”

  He regards me skeptically. “So you want me to stay, or you’ll let me stay?”

  I flatten a palm on his chest. “Both.” I go for light, because his mood seems to have darkened again. “I’d be a special kind of stupid to kick you out of my bed.”

  He snorts a laugh.

  I kiss his chin. “I’m warning you, though, I’m a bed hog, so don’t be surprised if you end up with six inches of mattress.”

  “I think I’ll be able to manage.” He settles back against the pillows. “So, um, are you tired now, or…” he trails off.

  “Or?” I’m not sure what he’s getting at. Maybe he wants to watch TV or talk some more, although my brain is practically fried from the orgasms. So many orgasms. More than I’ve ever had at one time—or in a twenty-four-hour period, actually.

  His hand settles on my hip. “We could have sex again.”

  I blink a few times, trying to determine whether he’s serious. He looks serious. And hungry in a not-for-food way. “Right now?”

  “Or later. You know, if it’s too soon.” He moves his hand up a few inches to my waist, bringing his erection into view.

  He’s already half-hard again. “Oh wow.” I drag a fingertip along the length of him.

  His hand covers mine. “So an important thing you might want to know is that hockey players have pretty high stamina.”

  “I see that.” I wrap my fingers around him and squeeze.

  Lance’s mouth drops open, and his eyes roll up. “You gotta tell me when you’re tired, or you need a break, ’cause I can do this all night with you.”

  “All night?”

  Lance hooks his palm behind my knee and pulls it up as he readjusts my position so I’m suddenly on top of him. He shifts around under me until I feel his erection right up against me, smooth and hard and almost entirely ready.

  “All night,” he confirms.

  “What about sleeping?” I brace my hands on his chest. His muscles flex under my fingers, and that hot look in his eyes turns to fire when I roll my hips.

 

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