Page 20 of Tricky Puck

“Is that a trick question? What happens if I lose the challenge?”

“You mean besides having another spectacular orgasm?”

“Yeah,” she half moans as I keep flicking her nipples, alternating between them, and she starts breathing heavier.

My answer should be we fuck all night until the sun rises, but there’s something else I want.

“I bet you I can make you come by playing with your nipples, and if I win, you…” I lower my mouth and suck hard on one nipple, holding her heavy breast and feeling the rapid beat of her heart.

“What?” The word is strangled, and she holds my head against her breast with a quaking hand until I lift it to look at her.

“If I win, you sing me a song.” I control my breathing, and my heart pounds in anticipation, though I have no idea why this is important to me. If she sings for me, I feel like I’m conquering something.

She meets my eyes, her dark lashes fluttering, causing the flash of her blue irises to appear and disappear like a strobe light, making my cock dance just watching her while I toy with her breast, my rough finger circling the tender skin of her areola as her chest heaves up and down.

I wait her out as she bites her lip, blinks, and finally nods.

“Is that a yes? For the record?”

She breathes a laugh and caresses my cheek. “Yes. You’re so⁠—”

She stops talking when I squeeze her breasts together with my hands, creating a world-class vision of cleavage, a sight I know I’ll never forget as she gasps. Then I bring my head down and draw my tongue along the crack as my thumbs find her nipples and simultaneously circle her nipples.

“Oh my God.” Her eyes close, and she runs her fingers through my hair.

“I’m just getting started, baby.” I don’t wait for her to respond; I rise to the challenge of pleasing her—and driving myself crazy in the process as I flick her nipples and then suck them in my mouth, one after another, while her breathing turns into panting, and she lets out a continuous stream of moans, bucking her hips to mine.

I keep my cock off her, though it’s not easy because I don’t cheat when I make a bet. Mostly, it’s a matter of pride. And one of those secret ambitions I’ve always harbored—to give a woman an orgasm this way.

“Link… God almighty… I’m so close.” I suck harder, and her hips jump, her thighs clenched together under me. My heart races faster, and I can feel the heat, beads of perspiration rolling down my face as I scrape my teeth against one engorged nipple.

“Link!” She yells my name, and I move to the other nipple and do the same. She’s writhing under me now, and my cock is jumping and too ready.

Moving my mouth over her mounds of hot, sensitive flesh, I bring it back to her more sensitive nipple and flick my tongue. She mews and bucks. I graze my teeth, and she calls out incoherently. Then I take her nipple between my teeth and bite down, not too hard, but with enough force for her to dig her hands into my scalp and scream.

“Link. Oh my God, I’m coming, I… “ She moans incoherently as she writhes, thighs clenched and knees crossed, shuddering.

Letting go of her breasts, I wrap my arms around her, licking her nipples, flicking her nipples until her breathing calms and her clenched muscles relax, coming down from the waves of her orgasm.

Moving over her, I take her face in one hand and kiss her. “That was beautiful, hot pants.”

“Oh my God. I can’t believe you did that. Can’t believe I…” she shakes her head. Then she takes my face in her hands and kisses me passionately, with feeling, a different kind of kiss than the flirting kind or the foreplay kind. I have no idea what this kiss is about except that it feels good.

And whatever her intentions are, the effect on me is predictable. My cock twitches.

“I want to fuck you, Delaney.” So bad. But I can’t say that. I shouldn’t even feel that, but there’s an element of desperation in me to own her pussy, to fill her and claim her.

“I want you to fuck me, Milano.” She smiles. “Does that mean you don’t want me to sing after all?”

“Not on your fucking life. You’ll sing me a song.” I rise from the bed and find my pants as she watches me. “After we⁠—”

“Don’t say it. I get the picture.”

I find the condom in my wallet and open it. “You getting squeamish, hot pants.” I’m no longer smiling because her answer is important. I get back in bed and kneel between her legs, watching her as I open the foil packet.

“No. I want you. Badly.”

That admission stops me mid-motion as I’m rolling the condom down my shaft. Studying her face, her eyes tell me that she’s serious as fuck. My heart stutters and then pounds harder than before.