Pucked Page 49

I look up as Alex’s eyes flutter open. “What are you doing?”

Hmm, well, that’s not quite the reaction I was hoping for. “I’m playing with the monster cock. Well, actually, I’m playing with his foreskin,” I say as if the MC is a person, not an appendage.

I stop messing around and smooth out his turtleneck, stroking the shaft. Alex’s eyes close, and he releases a long, low groan. The monster cock grows perceptibly in my hand. Neato. I do it again. This time it twitches and grows some more. It’s fascinating to watch the skin stretch and smooth out until it is tight, moving fractionally with each stroke.

As soon as Alex is fully erect I look up. Ooooh, judging from his expression, I’m getting lucky this morning. He shoves his boxers down his legs and kicks them off while I lose my shirt. We’re both gloriously naked. He cups the back of my neck and pulls me to him.

I turn my head so he meets my jaw instead of my lips. I can taste the sourness of sleep in my mouth. It’s not sexy at all.

“Give me a minute.” I slip out of his grasp, intent on getting to the bathroom before he unleashes the beast on me. I’m no match for his speed, even half-asleep. Alex’s arm locks around my waist, and I find myself stomach-down on the bed, his body covering mine. He’s a quick fucker. Not literally. He takes his time with the important stuff.

His now-raging hard-on rests against the small of my back and—oh God, there’s no way in hell—it’s right there, between my ass cheeks. Sliding and . . . huh, it doesn’t feel bad at all. Regardless, the MC will never fit in there.

The connection between my mouth and brain are faulty, as usual, and I shout, “Exit only! It’s exit only!”

Oh. My. God. How mortifying is this?

Alex freezes and then laughs.

“That’s not a first sleepover kind of activity.”

“Wait! What?” I wish I sounded less like a prepubescent boy with his balls caught in a zipper.

“I’m kidding, Violet. I may have thought about it, but it’s not like I could accidently slip it in there.”

My ass cheeks clench in defiance as he passes door number two. “You’ve thought about it?” No one has ever so much as grazed my Hole That Shall Not Be Penetrated.

This may not be the best time for such discussions. The tip of Alex’s cock is currently pressing up against the Hole That Shall Be Penetrated Very Soon, and I’m delaying progress by talking about things that will never happen.

“Thinking and doing are very different, Violet.” His hand slips between the sheet and my body. He circles my clit, then moving lower, he pushes two fingers inside and pumps slowly, his erection bumping against his hand.

His fingers disappear only to be replaced by my favorite appendage. I think I might lose my mind as he eases inside; this position is like hurtling myself into Stimulation Station.

My moaning starts up full force. It’s high-pitched, like a cat in heat, so I bury my face in the sheets. Alex’s chest is against my back, his legs on either side of mine, keeping them pressed tightly together.

“Is it okay?”

I whimper because it is the only sound I can make. I feel so full. Fuller than I’ve ever been. Every stroke is magnified—divine.

“Is it too much, baby?”

Oh God, he’s calling me baby. I might come on the spot. He’s unmoving except for his lips against my shoulder. The bones at his hips press against my ass. His breath caresses my cheek, and I feel the slight tremor in his body as he holds his weight above me.

“Not too much. It’s so good.” I grip the sheets beside my head. Alex’s hands cover mine.

“You ready for me?”

I’ve been ready since I woke up and shared private time with the monster cock. “Please. Yes.”

He starts to move, and the head of his cock hits the spot. The so good turns into damn well fabulous. I can’t believe I doubted the existence of the elusive spot. It’s magically orgasmic. The word vomit won’t stop, so I keep my face mashed into the sheets. Only the pillow hears how good it feels, repeatedly.

It’s one of those positions where I’m right on the cusp of release. My inability to move or get to my orgasm switch prevents me from reaching the target. Alex must be psychic, or it’s possible he can tell by the pitch and frequency of my moans I’m getting close. He nudges my knees apart, urging me onto all fours.

If I was close to an orgasm before, it’s nothing compared to what I’m feeling now. Alex pops my hips out, changing the angle. His palm settles on the base of my spine, and he smoothes a path to the nape of my neck as his hips meet my ass.

“How’s this, baby?”

My wordless noise seems to be a sufficient answer. The beaver button is on red alert. His hand strokes along my side, moving over my hip and lower to tease sensitive skin. I’ve been straddling the line since we started. He rubs my clit at the same time as he thrusts again. I’m done for; I explode into a shuddering, moaning mess.

“That’s right, you come for me,” he says as though he’s scored a goal. I suppose he has. Or I have, or he’s scored the goal for me. Any way you look at it, a goal has been scored thanks to the skills of his monster cock and those nimble fingers of his.

I take control of the bean flicking, aware if I keep the pressure on I might come again. I’m stockpiling Alex-induced orgasms for beaver slapping material when he’s away.

This time Alex goes over the edge right after me. He collapses onto his side, taking me with him. He’s sweaty, but I’m too languid to mind. Besides, it’s a testament to how hard he worked to get me off. Twice.

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