Pucked Over (Pucked 3)
I have no idea what I thought was going to come of following her into this bathroom. My only plan was to have some kind of discussion, since the last time we had words they included her calling me an asshole, as well as a slew of other creative insults, and she won’t answer my calls. She also wrote all over my clothes in permanent marker. I sort of deserved it. I like that she’s my kind of crazy.
She shakes her head and smoothes away the dark, chin-length hair that’s fallen in her eyes. Her chest heaves with every breath. She looks hot tonight. Her jeans accentuate the fine, lean lines of her body. Her event T-shirt is tied at the side to accommodate how large it is on her narrow frame.
She’s pretty much panting. It reminds me a lot of the way she sounded when I ate her pussy at Waters’ cottage. That was weeks ago. I haven’t stopped thinking about it. I don’t know why. I mean, I can eat pussy anytime I damn well please—not that I do. Going down is intimate, and bunnies have usually made the rounds. I’m not putting my mouth where a million other dicks have been.
Hypocritical? Not at all. I don’t let the bunnies put their mouths on me either… for a variety of reasons. But Lily’s not a bunny, and she needed to be taken care of. Properly. So I went down on her. I drew the line at fucking her, though, because I didn’t want to feel guilty if she only let me bang her to get back at her asshole ex.
It was the right thing to do, but I still have regrets. Especially since I know she hasn’t gotten back with that dickwad. Not that I’ve asked or anything. Miller offers up the information. And now everything between her and me seems to be sideways. Or it did until about thirty seconds ago. Anyway, having had my fingers inside Lily, I can say, without a doubt, the sex would be stellar. She’s one tight little firecracker.
She drags my mouth back down and pauses when our lips are almost touching. I feel around behind me for the lock and flip it. I don’t want any interruptions right now. I pull her against me, trapping her hands between us. Then I brush the end of my nose against hers, all soft-soft.
She lets out this tiny little whimper. It’s barely a sound; she tips her chin up, and her hips press forward. She’s got to be able to feel my hard-on. It’d be impossible not to. I run my tongue across my lip, over the scar from a stick I took to the face a long time ago. She tracks the movement. When she lifts her gaze, I take her mouth.
This time when she tries to push her tongue past my lips, I force it back with my own. Her hands leave my shirt, fingers closing around my wrists as she fights to get inside my mouth. Not gonna happen. Not yet. It’s hard to kiss and smile, but I manage.
She runs her hands through my hair. Yanking out the tie, she tosses it across the small room. I have no idea where it lands, but I sure won’t be picking it up off the bathroom floor.
I spin us around so she’s against the door and work a knee between her legs. Then I start basically dry-fucking her. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This is a charity event. There are families, and kids. And here I am, locked in a bathroom with a girl who wrote TINY DICK INSIDE over most of my boxers. I’m wearing a pair tonight because I half-hoped I’d see her and this would happen.
I cup her ass, squeeze tight, and lift her. She’s maybe five-six, five-seven at best, and I’m almost six-three, so I’ve got a lot of height on her and probably a hundred pounds. She’s willowy, compact muscle and narrow everything from her hips to her rib cage. She wraps her strong legs around my waist, another one of those strangled moans bubbling up.
If it were possible for one human being to devour another, we’d be doing that now. She lets go of my hair and searches for the hem of my shirt. Her fingernails scratch over my abs. I bite her tongue in retaliation. She wrenches her face away from mine, banging her head against the door.
“You okay?” I ask.
She pinches my nipple, so I bite her neck. “Do it again and I’ll suck until I leave a mark,” I warn, parting my lips against her skin. It’s salty and sweet and so very, very warm.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I definitely would.” I apply the tiniest bit of suction and she gasps, her hands going back to my hair, fingernails digging into my scalp.