He looked down at his hands. Hands that had done whatever was necessary…for a cut of the profit or for the sake of the brotherhood. Thank fuck, the Squad was out of anything illegal. The money wasn’t as great, but after this stint in the slammer, at least he didn’t have to factor jail time on behalf of the Squad in his life plan.
“I didn’t like how it ended between us,” Ava began, “but I understood it. It was a bold move on your part, and that move was an example to me when it was time to make my own bold moves.” Ava’s serious-yet-melancholic eyes remained steady on his, jabbing his heart with remorse.
“I was a fucking kid, Ava,” Puck clarified. “For real, if I’d known I’d be sitting across from a woman as fucking gorgeous as you’ve become, that I’d have to fight to make her mine again, I would’ve made different moves. You were spirited then. Tack on the maturity in you now, and there are layers I can only dream about. It fuckin’ tears me up that I don’t have the privilege to touch you whenever and however I damn want to,” he concluded, in a bleak raw tone.
“Who says we would’ve stayed together? That I would’ve stopped partying and been there to support you?” she said softly. There was no strength behind her words. She was simply being kind. Polite.
“Bullshit. I underestimated you. Seeing you now, seeing what you’ve accomplished, and then hearing you talk about Kat, I know I made the mistake of my life. There’s no doubt you would’ve been there for me.”
“Yes,” she replied bluntly, her eyes stark. “I would have.”
There it was. The truth. He wasn’t one to shy away from it. He hadn’t shied away from it back in the day, when he decided her lifestyle wasn’t conducive to his new responsibilities. He wasn’t going to shy away from reality now.
“You’re right. I was wrong, and I’m man enough to admit it,” he stated plainly, hoping against hope it would mean something to her. That it’d suffice.
Ava’s eyelids fluttered shut, and she took in a deep breath. “It’s not easy talking about these things, but I appreciate your acknowledgment. You did underestimate me, and that hurt. You thought I was superficial, that I’d chose my lifestyle over you and Sammi. It cut me deep.”
Seeing how much he’d hurt her made him want to crawl out of his skin. He’d do anything for another chance. To redeem himself and his dumbass mistake, because this woman deserved the world on a platter, at the very least she deserved his heart. He’d give her anything she desired. Anything. The fear that she wouldn’t give him another chance clawed at his throat like when that inmate had tried to choke him out. Breathing was becoming difficult, and his vision was starting to close in. Focusing on her, he expelled a huge, shuddering breath.
“Never again,” he said vehemently, leaning forward and taking her hand. Her eyes snapped open and flared wide at his touch. Although he wouldn’t admit it to her, his mother’s last words had infiltrated his young, immature mind and twisted it against her. She’s bad for you, Damien. She’s bad, and she’s going to ruin you with her parties and drugs. You’re the man of this house, and she’s going to tear this family apart. His mother had been wrong, but what did his besieged juvenile brain know about right and wrong? They were the last words of his beloved mother before her car was wrecked by a drunk driver. By following her wish, he though he was honoring her memory. Not that he’d share these thoughts with Ava. It’d be cruel. Especially since the decision was his to make and he’d made the wrong one. Hands down. Wrong.
Lifting her hand, Puck pressed the tips of her fingers against his lips. “When I woke up from the nightmare two years later, the realization of what I’d done crashed down on me, but it was too late. It would’ve been an insult to show up at your house, even if it was only to beg you for forgiveness.”
She gave a harsh chuckle. “I would’ve slammed the door on your face and called the cops.”
He smiled against her soft fingertips. “There you go. C’mere.” He tugged at her fingers and gave her a chin lift.
Ava pulled her hand away and folded her arms over her chest. His heart dropped to his belly.
“I thought we were getting along. There’s no need to take things further.”
“We are getting along, but we’ll get along even better with you on my lap,” he growled, gripping the arms of his chair to prevent himself from lunging at her.
Her chin lifted at a haughty angle. “What if I don’t want to?”
Glancing at the clock on her wall, he noted he didn’t have time to lose. He sure as hell wasn’t fucking around. Time to pull out his joker card again.
“We have an agreement, don’t we?” he responded with a cocked eyebrow. He watched her expression like a hawk. She compressed her lips together in a flat line and shook her head slightly. “Yeah, this is where our little agreement comes into play.”
He heard her foot tapping underneath her desk in an irritated staccato. They glared at each other in a showdown. Finally, she broke, flinging her head to the side. Bingo. Huffing, she stood up, flicked her skirt to the side, and rounded the wide desk to him. He spread his legs, but stubborn girl that she was, she halted right outside of the circumference of his knees. Curling his fingers around her hip, he drew her in closer, inch by inch, until he wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her down to his lap. She was so fucking soft. Her sweet breath fluttered against his neck. Her ribs felt delicate under his fingertips. His index finger caressed a minute spot beneath her breast, gently grazing the underside. That little motion eased her stiff posture.
Drawing her even closer, she ended up nestled on his lap, up against his front. He clenched his jaw tight as her bouncy tits pressed against his chest. Fuck him, but he had to force himself to not reach forward and taste her. On her collarbone, her neck, her cheek. Really any part of her that was exposed to his tongue. The enticing scent of tropical vanilla danced around him, enfolding him in a bubble of sweet and sensual wholeness. That, along with the comfort of her supple body up against his, transported him to a Caribbean beach, lying in a hammock in the shade of a tree on.
※※※
Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod. Ava’s heartbeat banged out a rapid drumbeat against her rib cage. She was on his lap, pushed up against his hard chest. His arm banded around her in a tight embrace. His finger touched her with a delicacy that made her almost swoon. Ava hadn’t been touched in so long. She was a carnal creature at heart, although she’d locked those desires away to deal with the demands of her job, taking care of her mom, and mothering Kat.
She wasn’t being touched by any random man, either. This was Puck, the only man who’d ever made her feel something. A stream of bittersweet memories rushed her, reminding her of what it was like to be sheltered and cherished by this man. He had an innate ability to make her feel treasured. Memories of the sexathons they’d had flashed through her mind. The first night they met, she’d tumbled into bed with him after one kiss. She’d never found that sexual chemistry with any other man, and the femininity she hadn’t bothered with for so long spread its wings like a new fledgling, bracing for flight.
A part of her wanted to let go, but fear kept her tethered to the here and now. Even though he acknowledged that he’d been wrong, she couldn’t risk her heart to another one of his arbitrary “decisions.” A torrent of vying emotions tumbled through her. The desire to settle into him and enjoy the hardness of his chest strove against the jangling nervous energy of playing with fire. Sensing her inner struggle, he lay a gentle hand on her head and caressed her hair.
“Lean against me,” he ordered in a quiet voice. The sounds of a CO and an administrator walking past her door sifted into her office. She froze, biting down on her bottom lip till the steps faded down the corridor. When she freed her bottom lip, it stung from the pressure of her hard bite.
The low, dim light reflecting off the flat gray clouds of the winter afternoon filtered through the metal grid encasing her window. Quiet settled between them as he stroked her. The sensation of his calm yet demanding touch sp
arked tingles through her. Mixed with his cedar musk, the slow up-and-down rhythm of his chest cavity as he breathed lured her in. Ultimately, she sank into him and laid her cheek against his shoulder.
His other hand landed on her knee, and his fingers brushed small circles before moving up her thigh. Stroking her thigh from end to end with his entire palm, his fingers flexed involuntarily from time to time. A shiver coursed through her each time his hand squeezed. Her eyelashes quivered at the sublime, beatific sensation that overtook her at his ministrations.
He exhaled, feathering the wisps of hair near her forehead and covering her in the sweet scent of his breath. Her nostrils flared. Self-control slipping, Ava tilted her head and reached upward to graze her lips along his jawline. She gave it a small nip.
Abruptly, his mouth crashed down on hers, demanding entrance. She opened in a gasp, and his tongue entered, invading every inch. His fingers raked through her hair, enhancing the sensation of his laving tongue.
She shifted in his lap and butted against his stiffening cock, pressed along her outer thigh and hip. God, it took up space. She’d forgotten exactly how large he was. Hungry, she slid her hand over his lap, knuckles bumping against his abdomen. Her fingers wrapped around the girth of his thick shaft, tugged upward, and smoothed over his crown, round and blunt in her palm. He moaned into her mouth. The vibrations triggered little shocks that shuddered down her limbs, causing her control to slip further. His mouth turned shameless, kissing her deeply, devouring her. The claiming strokes of his tongue lit a fire in her.
Pulse throbbing out a harsh, needy rhythm, she lost herself in him. It’d been so long, and his talented tongue wooed her out of any lingering inhibitions. She’d take advantage of this—the intense physical rightness between them—for as long as it lasted. Her tongue danced, parried, and thrust in response to his. Her other hand shimmied up the long length of his torso and grabbed onto the ends of his hair at his nape. Gripping and twisting them, as if to keep her from floating away.
Breaking their kiss, Ava shifted off him and stood up. His hands reached for her, tugging her closer until he realized she was pulling up her stretchy, ribbed skirt high enough to straddle him. Her knees fell out of the gaps between the armrests and the back of his chair. He cupped her neck and delved back in. She palmed the hard planes of his chest as she twined her tongue with his. God, he tasted like ambrosia. Truly the food of the gods because nothing, and she meant nothing, tasted as good as he did. He tasted like a beach bonfire on a chilly autumn night, the scents of smoked firewood and sea salt in the air.
Tunneling into her hair, he pulled her away. Breathing raggedly, his smoldering gaze roved over her face. Her eyes, her nose, her mouth, and then back to her eyes.
“Fuck, baby, you’re like a wildfire,” he said, his voice rough and harsh as if he was as affected as she was. His eyes were wide and dilated. It wasn’t like they hadn’t kissed before, but maybe, like her, he’d forgotten the punch of a simple kiss. Her heart fluttered like a tipsy butterfly against her rib cage.
His teeth scraped over his bottom lip, and then he captured her mouth again. Threading her fingers in his curls, she brought his head down at the same time as she arched to rub herself against his solid chest. It felt so fucking good, his fingers digging into the flesh of her ass.
Ripping his mouth off hers, they bumped foreheads. He heaved out, “Fuck, lift your skirt for me. I wanna see you.”
Shifting back on his lap, she took the hem and slowly dragged it up until her black and deep-purple lace panties were showing. His gaze was riveted on her.
“Holy fuck, you wanna drive me fucking crazy.” His gaze lifted and drilled into hers, almost angry. “That’s it, right?”
She exhaled a husky giggle. “This is what I wear.”
“Since fucking when?”
“Since I became a grown woman with a job and could afford to indulge once in a while,” she replied, somewhat tersely.
“Unbutton your top,” he commanded in a strangled voice, his chiseled jaw tight and rigid. She knew what he was checking for. She quickly unhooked the buttons of her blouse and exposed the matching black and purple lace demi bra. She wasn’t large per se, but her chest was a decent size. He’d certainly never complained before.
“You were made for sin, baby girl, and I’m the worst kind of sinner. I see how a man would kill,” he cupped her breast, his gaze riveted on his thumb, swiping back and forth over her peaked nipple, “for a woman.”
Her lower muscles clenched with need. She arched into his touch, wanting something rougher, but she knew better than to push him. He’d get there eventually, but he’d hold back if she got feisty. He liked to tease her, test her. Or at least he had in the past.
His other hand dropped between them, his knuckle grazing her mound. She stifled a moan as his knuckles went up and down, up and down. Hooking a finger on the top of her panties, he lifted the band off her abdomen and peeked down. The peek turned into a stare, his eyes darkening from chocolate to a lusty tar-black. She was dripping wet. Smooth, blunt fingertips grazed down her pussy and teased her folds open.
“Oh God, Puck,” she breathed out. Please touch me, please touch me, she wanted to plead, but she pinched her lips together to prevent her words from escaping. Meanwhile, she suffered under the torture of him playing with her clit or exploring the length of her slit, everything but penetration. He liked to banter with his touch, keep her on the edge of sanity for a while before giving her what she needed.
She peered up at him. His expression caused her to get slicker around his digits. That did the trick because the instant her juices rolled down the length of his fingers, he thrust them upward. Her head rolled back on her shoulders, spine bowed, and breasts jutting out brazenly.
A firm grip, almost angry, caught her jaw. His fingers tilted her face up until her gaze was locked with his, eyes roiling in lust and anger. His hand slid down and wrapped around her throat, holding her head suspended as he thrust ruthlessly into her pussy.
“This cunt. Always so goddamn hot. Is it hot in general, or is it hot for me, Ava? Tell me,” he seethed against her lips. Pleasure building, she lifted and thrust down onto his thick fingers. His hand pulsed around her throat, and she swallowed around the pressure. “Answer me, goddammit.”
She heard the jealousy in his tone, the need to know that he mattered. She fought his demand by shutting her eyes. No, she wouldn’t answer.
“You want to fucking come?” he withdrew his fingers and gave her pussy a slap.
She hissed out low. “What do you think?” Her eyes snapped open and threw him a glare.
He gave a little chortle. “Then, answer.”
Fuck the orgasm! She shoved the heels of her hands against his chest. No way was she going to be vulnerable. She struggled to get off him, but there wasn’t much she could do when he tightened his grip on her throat. His fingers circled her clit languidly, gently, not at all what she wanted or needed. She bared her clenched teeth at him.
“Tut, tut, not playing very nice. When your man asks you a question, you answer like a good girl. Let’s start with something easier, then. With the way your tight pussy is throbbing, I’d say it’s been a long time since you last came on a cock. Am I right?”
“Fuck you,” she spat out.
Angling his head, he gave her a look of disappointment. “You’re not making the right moves for a woman who wants to come,” he taunted. His hand left her clit and came around her to grab an ass cheek. “Need a little swat to remind you of who’s boss? Or would you rather get fucked into submission?”
All of the above?
She growled in response, eliciting another chuckle from him. He wanted to know if he was special? Fuck him, he didn’t deserve an answer to that question.
His tone got hard. “Get up,” he said as he pushed her off his lap and onto her feet, all the while keeping a hold on her throat. “Lift up your skirt.” She struggled against his fingers, but she didn’t have much wiggle room
. Fisting clumps of her skirt, he rucked it up to her waist.
“Take your panties off,” he demanded.
“No,” she countered, shaking her head with what wiggle room she had. He crowded her backward until she was flat against the wall. Damn him, the fight in her was quickly morphing into pure, white-hot lust.
His tongue flicked out to the corner of his lips. “So fucking hot when you fight me. You know how that turns me on.”
Tucking her skirt around her waist, he let go of her throat long enough to tear her panties off her. Riiip. Her mouth dropped open. Hand back around her throat, he brought the ripped panties to his nose and scented them before letting them drop. Cool air whisked over her skin, but her clit throbbed with desperation. She shifted from foot to foot, rubbing her thighs to get some friction going. His wolf-like black eyes were on her the whole time, watching every reaction as she struggled to hide them.
“Take out my cock.”
Her gaze bounced around the walls of her office as she licked her parched lips. Good, this she could do. Reaching for the zipper of his jumpsuit, she dragged it down tooth by tooth and reached inside. There was his swift inhale of breath, but other than that, he stayed still. His thick cock felt so silky smooth and hot in her hand. She groaned when her thumb smeared over the pre-come. Oh God, she wanted a taste of that. So. Bad.
“Now,” he crooned, his face twisting in unrefined pleasure. “It’s time for this hot little pussy to come all over my cock.”
“I’ll go down on you. I’ll suck you off.”
“Oh, no, angel. You might’ve gotten away with swallowing if you hadn’t been stubborn, but it’s too late for that. You’ve got a lesson that needs learning, and I don’t do things by half measure. I might not be able to smack that ass the way you deserve; nice, hard, and long until you’re begging me to stop. Someone walking past your door might hear. So the only option is to take this tight cunt.”
Puck's Property: A Bad Boy Biker Romance (The Demon Squad MC Book 5) Page 7
