Page 29 of Puck Daddy


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“That’s right. And I want to see you naked. Like I did the night you were in my arms. Stark naked, and ready for me to take you. That’s what I want to remember right now, Faith. Now, take it off.”

I blush as I close my eyes and do exactly as he asks. I’d be lying if I said his commands weren’t making me wet. Not only does he want to see me in my underwear, but he wants to see every part of me without them. I unclasp my bra, and let it fall to the floor.

He growls on the screen. “Fuck! You’re so damn sexy. I wish I were there, pinching your sweet nipples and running my tongue all over them.”

His sexy talk emboldens me, and I do a dramatic twirl. It encourages me to do more than just strip.

I realize then that I can please him just like this every night. Ease the longing. Make him want me without even being in the same room. Just knowing he wants me is enough to put me in a trance, and I slowly bend down and start to take off my panties. Very slowly.

The camera shifts downward, and I can see Tristan’s hands undoing his jeans.

My breath quickens, and I spin the leather chair behind me, sitting down in haste. I don’t want to lose the momentum.

“Touch yourself, Faith,” he coaxes me. “Imagine it’s my fingers between your legs. Damn it, you’re making me so hard right now.”

All my insecurities and fears are gone. I angle the camera so that he can see what I’m about to do. Something that I’ve only ever done in secret, and I’m about to share it with him. I don’t feel naughty or even dirty as I have so many times before. This time, it’s different. It’s as if sharing myself with him makes me feel powerful. Superior.

I’m locked in a room, about to make Tristan Wright come. He could easily be with one of his fans. I’m sure there are a dozen that would be happy to be at his beck and call. But he wants me.

All of me.

“Shit, I wish these were your hands on my cock, Faith.” He moans, circling his fingers around his erection, up and down in rhythmic motions.

He’s talking dirty, and I open my legs wider as his labored panting reaches my ears. My eyes close momentarily as I think back to that night in the hotel room. When he took me, fast, hard, and desperately.

My finger glides into my slit without hesitation and I moan softly, rubbing gently at first. I’m not shy like I thought I’d be. I want to explore myself, and I want him to watch. I hear him groan in need, and the sound only encourages me to go deeper, opening my legs wider.

“Slow down.” His voice is merely a forced breath now, as he watches my fingers move faster. Thinking that this is what he wants, to be inside me, filling me. I open my eyes to see him staring back at me, his own gaze dark and lust-crazed.

“There’s no rush. Take your time,” Tristan demands, and I wonder idly how many times he’s done this. I shake my head at the thought of it. It doesn’t fucking matter.

I arched my hips, putting my pussy in full view of the screen, one leg on the desk. One hand is between my legs, the other’s squeezing my nipples.

I rub myself in frenzied circles, focused on the passion I can see in his eyes. He picks up speed, stroking his cock harder. It’s as if I’m the one in control of his pleasure. I’m bringing him to the edge without touching him. Just the thought of it makes me ache and clench deliciously.

I focus on my clit, adding another finger. I rock my hips against my hand, in full view of Tristan’s predatory eyes. My nipples are small, hard pebbles.

I can feel the impending explosion inside of me. And I crave it. I’m ready to burst, to shatter, because I want to be with him so badly right now. I throw my head back, moaning loudly in desperation. “Tristan, I want to come so badly.”

I yearn for his touch so much that I open my eyes, just to see him before me on the screen. Now, we’re both moving to the same rhythm. I can see him jerking himself, hard and fast, and I rub myself more aggressively, matching his pace.

I try to hold back, but I can’t. It’s too much. “Oh God, Tristan, I’m coming. I’m coming!”

“Faith!” He growls my name, but my body shudders violently, a flood of heat washing over me as I careen over the edge, gasping loudly at the strength of the orgasm that rips through me.

I can’t even open my eyes, unable to focus on anything beyond the absolute ecstasy that overtakes me. The only sound I hear is Tristan hissing obscenities, unable to control himself as he finds his release, too. I should say something to him, but his voice sounds so distant, and I’m not sure I can get the words out.

He’s taken every ounce of energy I had, and I sigh as my breathing slows.

Tristan’s low, playful chuckling makes me raise my head. He’s smiling, completely exhausted. I know the feeling.

I reply with a crooked smile of my own. “I want you here. So bad. When are you coming home again?”

“Soon,” he assures me. “You just have to be patient.”

I smile. “It’s hard to be, when I miss you so much.”

He doesn’t reply, but our eyes lock as we both stare longingly at each other through the screen. I should cover up my confession with small talk, tell him everything’s fine with the kids and that I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.

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