Forever PUCKED (Pucked #4) Page 4

  “You want me to take it easy on you?” he asks, sucking on my neck. He’s probably going to leave a few marks. Not that it matters; I’ll wear my hair down, if that’s the case.

  “No, thanks. The opposite of that would be good right about now.”

  He exhales a hard breath. “Fuck, I love you.”

  Alex holds me against his chest with one hand covering my boob, his fingers separated so my nipple peeks out between them. Once again, this is intentional. He loves my boobs almost as much as he loves the rest of me. It’s unlikely he’ll let go unless he absolutely has to.

  His other hand glides down my stomach, and this time he doesn’t stop until he reaches my clit. He begins rubbing circles, gentle but insistent. I hold onto the back of his neck on the not-so-off chance my legs decide to buckle. When I’m panting and moaning, Alex goes lower, easing first one finger inside, then another and another.

  This is absolutely essential. It doesn’t matter that we’ve been together for a year or that he sticks his monster cock in me on a regular basis. Alex doesn’t have the kind of package I can jump on without any kind of preparation.

  It’s an aberration. And by aberration, I mean it’s huge. Like Guinness Book of World Records material. I’m not exaggerating on his behalf, either. Alex and I go through a lot of lube—though mostly for boob sex. But this time we’re in the shower, and I’m wet and slippery, so we’re good to go.

  I think Alex has designs on getting me off before he gets inside me, though. It’s been more than a week, so I’m not feeling all that patient. My eyes are glued to our reflection in the mirror. The shower is fogging up again, so I swipe my palm along the slick surface to clear it, then reach behind me for Alex’s cock.

  We both groan when I slide the head along the crack of my ass, trying not to tense as he passes my backdoor. Alex makes all sorts of jokes about getting up in there, which is impossible. He’d never fit in a million years. Never. I don’t think.

  “Holy—Violet, what’re you—” There’s a tremor of excitement in his voice, as if he actually thinks I might offer to let him try. But then I pass my Area 51 and line him up with door number one. He doesn’t react other than to curl his fingers one last time, hitting that special spot, before he withdraws.

  His lips are soft on my shoulder. His expression turns to ecstasy as he pushes inside. “God, I missed you so much.”

  “Me, too. I mean, I missed you. Not myself.”

  The first time we have sex after he’s been away is always amazing, but the second time is usually more intense. I’m not sure that’s going to be the case this time. I’ve never been much of a voyeur, but being able to watch what’s happening to me, while it’s happening, is awesome.

  I brace one hand on the glass and widen my stance, giving me an even better view as Alex thrusts and retreats. No wonder guys are either focused on the boobs or the beaver, because this looks fantastic. It also feels amazing, so the two combined make the experience phenomenal.

  Alex puts his hand over mine, forcing me to lean forward. It means I can’t see as much, but he goes deeper, and I can still see his face, and my boobs are bouncing away, so it gets a thumbs up.

  “I’m not going to last like this,” Alex warns.

  “It’s okay,” I groan. I’m close anyway. I reach down and rub the beaver button.

  “You want to do it again after the shower?” he pants, speeding up.

  His eyes meet mine in the mirror, so I nod. His grin is all dimples and primal male satisfaction. He pushes my hand out of the way and takes over the rubbing.

  I don’t know how he can do this while he’s still thrusting away. It takes an incredible amount of coordination. It’s like when you’re supposed to pat your head and rub your tummy at the same time. They’re two very discordant actions, so technically it should be impossible. But Alex is super amazing, so he’s able to do both.

  The glass keeps fogging up even when I wipe it away, maybe because I’m panting against it, so I look down at Alex’s hand moving furiously between my thighs. He’s on a mission to make me come, bless his generous soul.

  I feel it then, the telling warmth that starts as a tingle and evolves into a burn. It comes fast and hits hard.

  Alex is considerate enough to keep his arm around my waist to prevent me from mashing my face into the glass. I claw at it anyway, seeking some kind of traction because sweet Jesus, all I can see are stars and galloping unicorns and hazy rainbows.

  “Fuck yeah, baby. You feel so fucking good.”

  Alex doesn’t use excessive profanity. He’s actually quite polite most of the time, but he seems to lose that civilized edge when we have sex—more specifically when I come. I like that he’s so enthusiastic about it.

  His fierce concentration tells me he’s getting close. He swipes his arm over the glass to clear the fog.

  “I’m not gonna come inside you,” he grunts.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I still wanna eat your pussy.”

  “Good call.” See why I love him? He’s such a planner.

  He thrusts twice more and pulls out. Fisting his cock, he turns to the right as I spin and sink to my knees. I open my mouth and point to my boobs, giving him options. His eyes bounce between the two, his indecision obvious. I make the choice for him when I lean forward, wrap my lips around the head, and suck.

  Alex swears like a trucker as he comes. I swallow, because it’s more polite than spitting. When he’s done, he drops to his knees and kisses me. He doesn’t invite much in the way of tongue, though—not that I blame him since I now have jizz breath.

  “It’s so good to be home,” he says.

  I hum in agreement. Alex is the best place in the world to be.

  3

  Bad Words

  Make Trouble

  ALEX

  I hate alarms. Especially when I’ve been up half the night having sex. With my fiancée.

  Violet groans from under her pillow and slaps around on the nightstand, searching for her phone so she can turn it off. I roll on top of her, grab the device, and hit snooze. Shoving the pillow out of the way, I burrow through her hair until I get to her neck. Kissing her sleep-warm skin, I say, “Don’t go to work today.”

  “I can’t not go to work, Alex.”

  “I’ll make it worth your while.” I roll my hips against her ass.

  Violet makes a noise, like maybe she appreciates where my cock is, and how hard I am, but she says, “I can’t.”

  “Why not?” I sound whiny. It’s not very manly, but I’ve been without Violet for eight days, and I want time with her. Her working today makes this difficult. I don’t like difficult. I like getting what I want.

  Violet elbows me in the ribs, so I do a push-up. She flips over. I try to get a knee between her thighs, but she keeps them pressed together. I’m forced to straddle her instead. My dick rests on her stomach, the head poking her navel.

  She runs her fingers over my jaw. “I have client meetings today. Buck needs me to look over some stuff for him, and I have a presentation to prepare for.”

  “Can’t you reschedule those and do the rest from home?” I try to sound less petulant, and more like I’m trying to seduce her with the idea.

  She exhales through her nose. “No, I can’t. Besides, if I stay home, I won’t get anything done. Then I’ll have to stay late tomorrow, which won’t work because you have a game, and I want to go.”

  I sigh, frustrated. She’s not going to give in. I already know it. Violet can be stubborn. I love this about her, but I also hate it, because it means she doesn’t cave for me as much as I’d like her to. “You should just quit.”

  She purses her lips and pushes on my chest. When I don’t move she pushes harder. “Get off.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to do, but you won’t let me.” I nudge her navel with my cock again.

  “I’m not kidding, Alex. Get off me.”

  Shit. She’s pissed. Usually my morning advances are welcome—e
ven when we’ve already had lots of sex, and especially after I’ve been away for a few days.

  “Come on, Violet. You know I’m joking.”

  That’s a lie. I’m not joking at all. She doesn’t need to work. Ever. I make more than enough money to provide a very comfortable life for both of us. And our children. When we have them. Eventually.

  “Liar! Now let me up. I need to shower. I can’t go to work smelling like your jizz.”

  I give in and roll to the side.

  She throws off the covers and pops out of bed. She’s naked. So, so naked. Her pert ass looks biteable as she crosses to the bathroom and slams the door. Huh. Maybe she’s getting her period or something. She’s usually not this testy. Well, if I can’t convince her to stay home, I can at least enjoy some shower sex before she goes to work.

  I roll off the mattress and head for the bathroom. Turning the knob, I push and get nowhere. I try again, but the handle doesn’t budge. “Baby, want to open the door for me?” I call out.

  “I’m in the shower,” she yells back.

  “Uh, yeah. I get that. I was thinking maybe I could join you.”

  “Sorry. I can’t hear you over the water!”

  She can hear me fine, obviously. Goddamnit. What the hell did I do wrong? I look down at my hard-on and give it a reassuring pat, even though I have a bad feeling I’m not going to get to use it the way I’d hoped this morning.

  When the water turns off a few minutes later—Violet takes quick showers when I’m not in there with her—I lean my forehead against the door and tap on it. Incessantly.

  “There are five other bathrooms in this house, Alex. If you need to pee, go use one of them!”

  I don’t say anything; I just keep knocking.

  “For fuck’s sake,” she grumbles from the other side of the door. I hear the lock turn so I step back. She throws it open. “What?”

  She’s covered by a towel. But there’s cleavage. “Why are you mad at me?” I say to her boobs.

  She snaps her fingers in my face. I look up. Her cheeks are red and her eyes on fire, though not with lust, even though my hard-on is pointing at her, waiting for her to use it as a handle.

  “Why?” she asks, incredulous.

  “Yeah. What did I do?”

  She throws her hands up in the air. “What did you do?”

  “I don’t know what I did to make you this angry, but I’m sorry, whatever it was.”

  “That you don’t even know is a problem.” She turns away, but at least she doesn’t shut the door on me. I’m taking this as progress.

  I review the events since we woke up. Maybe my rolling on top of her was the problem, but I do that all the time. “Is it because my dick was near your ass again? I promise I’m not going to try to get in there.”

  She huffs, opening the vanity. “It’s not about anal, Alex.”

  I scratch the back of my neck. “Is it because I asked you to stay home with me today?”

  “No.” She grabs her brush and yanks it roughly through her hair, cringing when it gets caught on a bunch of knots.

  Shit. I know what I did wrong. “It’s because I said you should quit your job. I wasn’t serious, Violet.”

  I’m lying again, but I don’t want her to be angry. And I’m still mostly hard, so if I can get back in her good graces, I might be able to get some action before she leaves for work. I’m really horny.

  Violet spins around, her wet hair slapping me in the chest. The head of my cock rubs her hip and pokes her stomach through her towel. She uses the end of her brush to push me back so my excited parts aren’t touching her anymore. “You do realize this is the fifth time in the past two months you’ve told me I should quit my job, right?”

  I know I’ve said something about it before, but I didn’t realize it was that many times. “You had to work a lot over the holidays.”

  “I was off the whole week between Christmas and New Year’s.”

  “But my family was here, so I didn’t get as much alone time with you as I wanted. And you’ve been working late a lot since then. We’re always playing catch-up after I get back from away games, and then I’m gone again. I don’t like it. And you’re mad at me.”

  Violet sighs, her expression softening. “I’m just frustrated. My mom and Sidney put all that money toward my education. I don’t want it to go to waste. And I like my job. A lot. I’m good at it.”

  “What about when we have kids? You won’t want to work then, will you?” I cringe at the way I’ve worded this and the resulting change in Violet’s posture. She goes stiff, and not in a good way.

  “Whoa. We’re not even married yet; why are we talking about kids? And what’s with the plural? There’s nothing wrong with being an only child.”

  “We can talk about that later.” I can only imagine how big her boobs are going to be when she’s pregnant. I’m so fucking excited for that: her boobs, us getting married, her having my babies. I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “It’s not a bad thing that I want to be with you as much as I can, is it?”

  “Wanting to spend time with me is different than wanting me to quit my job.”

  “But if you don’t have to worry about a job, we’ll see more of each other. It’s not like I can’t afford to take care of you. Besides, you put in all those hours, and for what? Less than a hundred grand a year.”

  She snatches her hand away, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I get that you make way more money than me, but it doesn’t negate my need to have a purpose beyond being your fiancée. If you weren’t raking in the millions, my salary would actually be really good. Great even.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” I drag a palm over my face. “I just—I’m home for less than a week, and then I’m away again, and you’re going to be working for the next four days. It doesn’t leave me with much.”

  Violet adjusts her towel and rests her hand over my heart. “What would I do with all my free time if I quit my job, Alex?”

  “Come to the away games.”

  “On the bus with you and the team? Am I going to fly everywhere? What about practices and training sessions? Will I go to those, too, or am I going to sit in a hotel room? No wait, I’ll spend every day at a spa, getting treatments so I look twenty-three forever.”

  “Some of the other wives—”

  “I can’t spend my time waiting for you to come back from games or practices. Be reasonable. That’s not a life.”

  She has a point. Violet isn’t the kind of woman who would enjoy the endless pampering. She’ll do it on occasion, but it’s not something I can see her wanting to get used to. She struggles enough with the few grand I put in her account every month.

  This conversation isn’t going the way I want. I take the brush she’s still holding and tuck it under my arm. Then I take her hand and play with her engagement ring. The one I gave her back in August.

  We still haven’t set a date. Weddings stress Violet out. She’s started getting hives whenever we talk about it. Apparently she had a terrible experience with her mom’s wedding—she was just a teenager—and she hasn’t gotten over it. I’ve asked about it, but she’s vague with her explanation.

  “I don’t like being away from you,” I tell her. “The away games are hard. I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too, but that doesn’t mean I should quit my job any more than you should quit yours.” She raises a brow, like she’s waiting for me to stick my foot in my mouth again.

  The difference between our annual salaries is astronomical, but I keep that to myself since I don’t want to shovel my own grave. And I do understand, and appreciate, her need for a purpose, even if I’m being a self-centered dick about it. “I feel like I don’t get enough time with you.”

  “We’ll get used to it. It’ll be off-season before we know it, and then you’ll be home all the time, and I’ll be driving you crazy.”

  “You won’t drive me crazy.”

  “We haven’t been living t
ogether that long, Alex. Just you wait.”

  “Maybe when my games are in Chicago you could see about working from home once in a while? Do you think your boss would go for something like that?” I peek up at her.

  “I can talk to him,” she says after a moment.

  “Okay.” I run my nose along her shoulder to her neck, then follow with my lips.

  “I need to get ready for work,” she says softly.

  “I’ll give you one quick orgasm.”

  “It’s already seven-thirty.”

  “I’ll be superfast.” I mash my hard-on against her stomach. “I don’t want to wait all day to get rid of this.”

  “I’m going to be late as it is, Alex.”

  I kiss her bare shoulder, nipping. “So be a few minutes later.”

  She stops me before I can tug her towel free. “I have a client meeting first thing this morning. I can’t be later.”

  “They’ll wait.”

  “They shouldn’t have to. It’s unprofessional.” She’s snappy again. “Can we wait until I get home tonight? I’m not really in the mood anyway.”

  “Okay.” I back off. “We can wait.”

  I leave her alone in the bathroom and pull on a pair of jogging pants and a T-shirt. It doesn’t take long for my hard-on to fizzle, considering I just got turned down by my fiancée. Violet never turns down sex. Ever. I must have really pushed her buttons this morning.

  I try to redeem myself by making a pot of coffee. And I toast a bagel for her, slathering it in lactose-free cream cheese so she doesn’t have to leave for work hungry.

  This morning is definitely not going as planned.

  Violet rushes down the stairs at five after eight. I meet her at the door with her travel mug and bagel.

  “What’s this?”

  “Breakfast. It’s that mocha coffee you like and one of those French toast bagels with extra lactose-free cream cheese.”

  She wraps her arms around me and lays her cheek on my chest. I return the hug as best I can with my hands full.