Page 47 of Don't Puck Him

I place my hand on her leg as I pull out of the parking lot, my fingers drifting closer to the heat of her pulsing core. She shuffles closer to me, her breath deepening.

“My roommates might be there,” she says breathlessly.

“No worries, Wren,” I say, flashing her a little smirk as we turn into the campus. “It might be fun to be a little sneaky anyway, don’t you think?”

I see Wren nod in my peripheral vision without a word. When we park, she un-clicks her seatbelt but doesn’t open the door.

Her breathing is deep, and she gasps when I run my hands up her thighs. Her jean shorts are wonderfully skimpy, so I yank up the fabric until it strains the outside of her labia. I pull her in closer, and her breasts are perking, pouring out of her tank top and pressing against me.

“Can you put your hand on my throat again?” she mutters, barely audible.

I cock an eye, intrigued by my quiet little dove. “What was that?”

Wren swallows and speaks the most minuscule degree louder.

“Can you put your hand on my throat?”

I place one hand on her but don’t tighten it yet. When she stares at me confused, I shake my head back and forth.

“You still need to say the magic word,” I murmur.

She swallows again, and I feel it run over my palm. What a delicious feeling.

“Please.”

I keep the other between her legs, teasing the border of her shorts and panties while intermittently tightening my grip near the underside of her jaw.

She whimpers, then wriggles. I like to see her grow inpatient, and maybe a little feral. It is electrifying.

“I thought we were going up to your room, hm?” I murmur, moving my lips up to glide along the shell of her ear.

“Mmm,” she groans out. “No, I want it here, I want it now.”

“Tsk tsk.” I move a single finger up to her lips, then tap them rather roughly.

Her eyes glimmer.

“That’s not how my girl asks for her spoils. Say it the way I’ve told you. Do it now.”

Wren brightens, her body no longer wriggling. She tongues my finger for a moment, and I squeeze her throat. For a millisecond, her breathing is gravelly. Then she breathes deeply, an enlivened look in her eyes and a sultry submissive cadence to her speech.

“I want you to take me. Please, sir. I am begging you. I trust you.”

Lord, how could I resist?

25

WREN

Ican’t explain to him why I need this so much, but I do. I need something stable and sure to lean on. A fixed point from which to make sense of everything else. Right now, that can’t be me, but it can be him.

I trust Hunter. I trust him in a way I don’t trust other people. I’m good at dealing with people. I know how to act like what they expect. But with him, I can let go of all that. I can be totally and completely vulnerable and still feel safe.

“Take off your shirt,” he says finally. I obey quickly, without even thinking.

“The bra, too,” he continues.

I undo the clasp at the back and pull it off. He looks at my breasts and smiles. He cups the left one in his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. I close my eyes and feel the pleasure passing through my body.

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