Page 62 of Lucky Puck

“What are you thinking so hard about, honey pants? You worried I’m too big to handle?”

I laugh, though he has a point. “You’re always a smart ass. Even now, here in bed and all aroused.”

“I’m more than aroused, Bianca. I’m ready. Are you?”

He positions his cock to take the place of where his tongue was, and I let out a shuddering sigh as my answer. Gripping his cock, he moves it along my soaking and still sensitive pussy, stroking me and teasing me with the solid, creamy tip. I pant hard, my hips jutting up to meet him, forcing him closer, desperate for him to be inside me.

“What do you want, honey pants? Tell me.” The strain in his voice causes a wave of intense electric desire to race through me, and I rake my hands down his back, relishing his rippling muscles as I absorb the sensations.

“I want you inside me.” My words are breathy as I look unblinking into his eyes, watching them blaze with such intensity as if he’s containing a volcano of need.

The twitch of his mouth and that beautiful, sexy dimple popping fuels my boldness, melts away whatever hesitation or insecurities I may have had because nothing makes sense except that we should be here together, should be taking all the pleasure we can from each other, should be taking our connection, our undeniable chemistry, all the way to its ultimate conclusion.

“Coincidentally, I want me inside you too.” As he says the words, he eases his hard, blazing cock inside like it’s a knife searing through me to that secret place where so few men have gone.

I almost faint at the glorious, strange, and erotic feel of him. Squeezing my eyes shut, I concentrate, assimilating every last sensation, memorizing them, and gasping at my body’s wild response. Pulses leap like small electric shocks, shaking me as he moves, channeling inside me to my furthest depths.

“I don’t remember this ever feeling so… oh my god, Brody.”

He glides back out and then slams back inside me with breathtaking speed. He does it again and again, relentlessly, every time managing to spark every one of the cells inside me to life like he’s a mad violinist playing me until I reach an unbearable crescendo. My pussy clenches hard in a spasm so intense I see stars against my eyelids.

Squeezing them tighter, my body shakes with the strain of bliss, like a rocket shaking on the launch pad, all fired up and ready to burst into space. He reaches down between us and strokes me, pressing against my swollen O-marble as I go blind and break apart with burst after mind-erasing burst rattling me. I feel like I’m on an endless, dizzying rollercoaster riding peak after peak, caught in a universe made of euphoria.

I’m lost, untethered from reality, mindless and floating in space. But I can feel him, his weight and heat, his thrusts faster and faster, making my heart speed to keep up like we’re on a runaway train together and rocketing to oblivion. When his muscles tense and he lets out a mighty groan, tightening his arms around me, erupting inside me, an answering flare crescendos inside me, and I clench violently around him.

“Jesus, Bianca,” he croaks, thrusting one last time as a final gush warms me, and he hugs his arms around me as I wrap around him and we spin together, on and on, until the spinning slows. The tension of his muscles ebbs, and mine follow.

We land together, softly, my heart slowing and him whispering incoherent words in my ear, but I know they’re words that say he cherishes me because I can feel it. The same way I cherish him.

He’s with me. That makes me smile. No man has ever done this to me, never given me even one orgasm. No man has ever been so generous and attentive or made me feel this way—like I’m special, sexy, and most amazingly, someone to cherish.

Opening my eyes like I’m waking from a world-changing dream, I try to make sense of what he’s whispering in my ear, his small kisses and nibbles, and the soft caress of one hand on the inside of my thigh like he’s calming me, settling me down like an animal who lost control and went wild.

That’s exactly how I feel. And also, I feel so creamy and dreamy, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.

I stare into his blue eyes, and the words that pop into my head startle me, and I bite my tongue to stop myself from telling him I’m falling for you.

It can’t be true. It’s the aftereffects of mind-blowing sex. That has to be it. Not that I would know since this is my first experience—with the mind-blowing part.

“I… “ the words keep pushing at me, my emotions all tangled up in this blissful state I never imagined was possible.

“You what, honey pants? You enjoyed⁠—”

“I love—love making—having sex with you. It was… overwhelming.”

“I know how you feel. I don’t…” He pauses as if considering his words, and when he speaks, they come out as a whisper, like he’s telling me a secret. “I’ve never had mind-blowing sex like this before.”

My bliss elevates unreasonably, and I feel like I could fly.

“Exactly! Does this mean—” I don’t know what I was going to say, or what this means, but the shuttering of his expression stops me.

“It means we’re good in bed together, honey pants. It means maybe we should do it again.” He gives me that irresistibly sexy half-lidded look, and the fluttering in my belly flares from zero to a million in one blink, erasing the vague disappointment of his interpretation of what this means.

“Now?” My voice squeaks in disbelief. I don’t know if he’s serious or if I’m ready. Part of me—that wanton wild part of me I had no idea was hiding inside—wants to go, but the rest of me is exhausted and content in his arms. And maybe a little afraid of all the feelings he’s stirred up.

He chuckles and tightens his hold with both arms around me. “I didn’t mean now. Hate to disappoint you, but I need to sleep. You may have done the impossible, honey pants. You wore me out.”

“How long does it take you to… recover?” I bite my lip as he looks closer at me. I stutter, “Sorry. I don’t know what’s got into me.”