Puck: Alpha One Security Book 4 Page 14

  God, I needed it.

  “Fuck it,” I breathed. “Fine. You win.”

  I twisted my head, reached up and grabbed his beard, pulled his ear to my mouth. “Please, Puck.” I gasped the words as quietly as I could, finally relinquishing this tiny victory to him. “Please . . . let me come.”

  I felt his grin spread across his face. His unoccupied hand lifted, and he pinched my chin between finger and thumb, and I felt his breath on my lips, and his finger slid into me, gathering moisture. His lips brushed mine, and I stopped breathing entirely.

  He kissed me, and his fingertip struck against my clit at the same moment his tongue slid into my mouth. I moaned helplessly, caught up in a tidal wave, toppled and twisting and crazy. Climax crashed through me with a blast of searing ecstasy, and he kissed me through it all, kissed me like I’d never been kissed by anyone, swallowing my moans and my gasps and my mewling shrieks. I came and I came and I came, and he held on to me, his hand around the back of my neck, crushing me closer to him as our lips fused. I reached up and scraped my palm over his scalp, cupping the back of his head, and I kept a grip on his beard with my other hand, and I gave in to the movement of my hips, flexing and grinding against his fingers as they whirled around my clit in a perfect union of speed and pressure and friction, touching me just right, exactly right, touching me so perfectly I couldn’t have told him how to do it any better. I burst apart, felt something explode inside me. I was wrenched into spasms of gasping intensity, wave after wave.

  When the climax finally subsided, I was left quivering, helpless. I collapsed against him, burying my face in the side of his neck, gasping for breath I couldn’t quite catch. “Jesus, Puck.”

  He pulled his hand away from my sex, and I watched, mesmerized and horrified and turned on all at once as he licked his middle and ring fingers clean, sucking at the glistening essence from my pussy coating his fingers. “Two fingers, Colbie. Fully clothed, on a plane, surrounded by people.”

  I blushed hard, remembering for the first time that we were in fact in a small airplane cabin with five other people. “Ohmygod.”

  He laughed. “Relax, babe. Look around. Nobody is watching.” And then he winked at me. “Now think what I could do if I had . . . say . . . an hour and you were naked.”

  I glanced up, looked around, and he was right. Layla and Kyrie were lost in conversation together, as were Lola and Temple, and Ivar was in the co-pilot seat scrolling on his phone. None of them even glanced back this way. Then the last part of what he said registered, and became an image, a daydream—me, stripped naked, lying on my back on a bed, Puck’s face between my thighs, his tongue lapping at me, his big strong hands fondling my breasts . . . his huge, hard cock driving into me . . .

  “Dammit.” I breathed the curse, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to pretend I wasn’t still quaking from the orgasm, trying to pretend I didn’t want Puck more than I’d ever wanted anyone or anything.

  “You want this, Colbie.” Puck’s voice was in my ear, speaking the truth I was too stubborn to voice myself. “You can pretend you don’t all you want, but you ain’t foolin’ me, sweetheart.”

  “I’m not trying to fool you,” I muttered, the words spilling out unbidden.

  He just palmed my cheek, smirking at me with that stupid, sexy, knowing smile of his. “I know that too.”

  Of course he did. Obviously, I wasn’t fooling either of us.

  7: Teasing

  Holy motherfucking shit—Colbie Danvers having an orgasm was hands down the most erotic thing I’d ever witnessed. My cock was throbbing, and I was pretty sure I was leaking pre-come in my underwear. I hadn’t even seen her tits, much less gotten a glimpse of the pussy my fingers had just been in, but I was already half in love with the woman’s body.

  Maybe that wasn’t a smart thing to joke about, though.

  Only, I wasn’t really joking, was I?

  I’d give up another finger to get thirty minutes alone with Colbie, and I’d be content with my bargain even if all I got to do was look. If I got to touch—and kiss and lick and fuck—I would die a happy man.

  I knew she was still freaking out, which I understood. She’d clawed her way out of hell, and when you do that on your own like she had, giving up even the tiniest amount of control was like surrendering your soul. I got it, I really did. I respected the hell out of her, and that was the damn truth. What she’d come out of, what she’d fought her way through, that shit took guts, it took balls—which I meant in the euphemistic sense, obviously—and it took furious determination and fierce strength, along with an unwavering sense of independence. I respected that shit down to my fucking toes, inside and out. But I also knew—or rather I strongly suspected—that there was another part of her deep down that wanted to be able to let go, just for a minute. She couldn’t, she didn’t know how, she flat out refused. Which I also understood. She’d fought me down to the last possible second; she’d made me earn every inch I took from her. She wasn’t just going to fall onto my dick, and she wasn’t going to be dropping to her knees anytime soon just because she felt sexual desire for me. If she wanted easy no-strings sex, she could get it anytime she wanted, and I thought she knew that. I wasn’t under the impression that she was that kind of girl, but you never knew. It didn’t matter. The point was, she and I both knew she could get sex whenever she wanted it. This dance of ours wasn’t about sex. It was about control, it was about trust—it was about sex, too, yes, but not sex of the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am variety. It was about . . . something more. What, I wasn’t sure.

  Maybe it was about me earning her trust enough that she’d eventually give me control. I wasn’t a dominant, not in the traditional sense. Not even close. I didn’t care how shit went down, most of the time. I had no problem letting a chick tell me how she wanted it, and I had no problem going with that. I’d go along for the ride, because most of the time, we both got our pleasure and that’s what it was really all about. For Colbie, it was about more than body parts, about more than who touched whom where. It was about more than orgasms. She could give those to herself, if that was what it was about. Was it about deeper meaning? Emotions? I wasn’t sure. I just knew I had to play this right, or it would vanish in a heartbeat—she would vanish. She’d shut me out, shut me down, and tell me to go to hell. So even though I knew she wanted me, knew she wanted this with me, I also knew she wouldn’t give it up easily.

  I glanced at her; she was still breathing hard, her beautiful chest rising and falling swiftly as she sucked in deep breaths and let them out. Her eyes were closed, but I knew she was awake. She was twisted in the seat slightly, facing me, her reddish-brown hair draped over her face and obscured her lovely features. Her skirt was still slightly rucked, showing me a bit of her legs. And god, those legs. Long, smooth, elegant.

  As I watched her, Colbie’s eyes flicked open and met mine. “In the name of honesty and fairness, I have to admit that you were right about one thing, at least.”

  I quirked an eyebrow up. “And what’s that, honey?”

  She dropped her voice to a whisper so soft I had to strain to hear, even when I leaned close enough to feel her breath. “I’ve never come that hard in my life.”

  The smile that curved my lips then was pleased and satisfied. “Colbie, sweetheart . . . that was just a little teaser.”

  She furrowed her brow. “I’m still feeling aftershocks.”

  “When you have multiples, they build on each other. Each one is stronger than the last. Give me the opportunity, and I swear, no lie, no exaggeration, I’ll have you begging me to let you stop coming.” I grinned broadly. “And that’s when I’ll take you.”

  “Oh really?”

  I nodded, letting her see how serious I was. “You’ll be dizzy and shaky and hypersensitive from coming so many times you’ve lost count, and I’ll put you on your hands and knees, and I’ll wrap my fist in that fucking gorgeous hair of yours, and I’ll drive my cock into your tight, wet little pussy and I’ll spank your a
ss as I fuck you into oblivion.”

  “Holy shit,” she breathed. “Where do you come up with this stuff?”

  “That’s what I’ve been fantasizing about since I met you.”

  “You’re serious about that.” She stared at me hard. “You really intend to do all that?”

  “Why would I joke about it?” I grabbed her hand and placed it on the aching ridge of my erection. “Does that feel like I’m joking?”

  She jerked her hand away as if burned. “Jesus, Puck. Are you gonna be all right? You feel a little . . . stiff.” She managed to say this straight-faced, somehow.

  I winked at her. “I’m kinda achy. Wanna help me out? Relieve the pressure a little?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’ll just go down on you right here and now.”

  “I wouldn’t argue.”

  She snickered. “No shit. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Actually, as much as it does ache, I’d rather wait until I can get you alone.”

  She tilted her head to one side. “Really?”

  “Sure.” I shifted, adjusting myself as she watched, trying to relieve some of the pressure. “If and when you go down on me, I’ll want you naked. I’ll want you to take your time.”

  “So you’re not an exhibitionist?”

  I shook my head. “Not really, no. I like to be daring, yes, but the thrill is in the danger of getting caught, not in actually getting caught.” I jerked my chin at the rest of the cabin. “There’s no way we’d pull that off without someone noticing.”

  “I could give you handy.” She smirked, and I knew she was just fishing for what I’d say.

  “And put the come where? It’s not gonna be a little bit, sweetheart.” I adjusted myself again, more for her benefit this time. “When I come, it’s gonna be a flood.”

  “I see.” She couldn’t seem to keep her gaze from wandering back to my groin, to the visible outline of my still-erect cock.

  “And babe, if I were you, I wouldn’t make suggestions you don’t have any intention on following through.”

  She met my gaze boldly. “What, you think I wouldn’t?”

  I huffed a laugh. “No, Colbie, I don’t think you would.”

  Her eyes blazed.

  Oh.

  Oh hell.

  I forgot—she doesn’t like being challenged.

  “Switch spots with me,” she said. She lifted up and slid onto my lap, and I shifted to the window seat. “Now. Take off your underwear and give them to me.”

  I quirked an eyebrow at her. “You’re serious.” I glanced forward—Temple and Lola had their heads resting on each other, dozing; Kyrie and Layla were across from them, deep in conversation; Ivar was still busy on his phone.

  She quirked an eyebrow back at me. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

  Why not go with it? Could be fun. So I unlaced my combat boots enough to slip my feet out, shucked off my pants and underwear, and then tugged my pants back on, and handed her my black boxer briefs. I left my pants unbuttoned and unzipped, then glanced at Colbie. Her eyes were wide, her expression one of shock and desire. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth, and her gaze was locked on my cock. Hard as goddamn marble, pre-come beading and smeared on the tip. Obviously I was better endowed than she’d anticipated, judging by her expression.

  “Jesus, Puck,” she breathed.

  “I love the way you say that,” I murmured.

  Her eyes flicked to mine, and then roamed the cabin before returning to me. She hesitated, taking a deep breath, and then shifted closer to me. Reached for me, nudging the flaps of my zipper aside to fully reveal my erection in all its glory. Took everything I had to play it cool, to tamp down my disbelief—I really hadn’t expected her to actually do this. I wouldn’t have pegged her as the type to give me a public handjob in a million years. Yet it seemed as if that was exactly what was happening.

  OH.

  Oh yeah. Yep. Her delicate little hand slipped around my cock, and I had to bite my tongue quite literally to keep from making a sound. Her fingers were so small, so thin, so delicate—she couldn’t get her hand all the way around me. Part of that was me, I suppose I should admit, as I was not a small man in any sense of the word except in terms of height, and even then, my cock was longer than my overall height would lead most to assume, and thicker than they’d guess. I’ve never measured, because who does that, for real? So no, I don’t know how many inches. I could guess, but why? Plenty, and more than enough.

  Her touch slid down slowly, and I watched, rapt, as she glided her fist back up, rubbing her thumb over the tip, through the smeared clear, sticky fluid. My teeth ground together—her touch was . . . perfect. Soft. Warm. Gentle, yet firm. Confident. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she was enjoying it. Not as much as I was, that was for fucking sure. God, her hand felt incredible. My heart crashed in my chest, my stomach sucked inward involuntarily. My balls ached.

  We were both acting as if nothing was going on, her gaze roving the cabin now and again, like mine was. She plunged her fist down again, and my eyes fluttered closed momentarily. Up then. God, each stroke was heaven, her warm, smooth touch making me crazy. I wanted to move, needed to push, to thrust, to flex. But I didn’t. I held stone-still, only my eyes and chest moved. Let her do this, her way, in her time.

  She was as unhurried as I’d been, touching her. No rush, just a slow, teasing exploration. Up and down. She paused at the bottom, squeezed a few times, then moved her hand up, rubbed the tip again, maybe played a few short, shallow strokes. I swallowed hard, teeth grinding, lungs expanding as I took deep, steadying breaths.

  Casually, she leaned a little closer, her eyes flicking up to mine, assessing me, watching my reaction as she cupped her other hand over my balls. Oh god, oh fuck, that was almost my undoing. I blew out a harsh breath through my nose, focusing on keeping still, on not making any sounds. Her beautiful mouth curved in a pleased smile, seeing my efforts to contain my reaction.

  Her lips brushed my ear. “You have a gorgeous cock, Puck.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Having trouble holding back already?” she asked, gliding her touch a bit more swiftly, then, teasing me, drawing me closer to the edge.

  “Nope. I’m fine.” I wasn’t, and we both knew it. “Just fucking fine.”

  She laughed quietly, her gaze moving away from mine and down to my cock. “I hope your poker face is better during actual poker.”

  More slow, teasing strokes, her palm cupping and kneading my balls. Faster then, just a little. Enough that my hips started flexing, and a soft grunt escaped me.

  “Wouldn’t take much now, would it?” she whispered in my ear, her breath warm, her words making it harder to hold back. “A few quick jerks, and you’d make a mess, I bet.”

  “Think so? Try me.” I was bluffing. It was all false bravado; she was more right than she knew.

  She laughed again. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Colbie paused with her hand around the head of my dick, caressing the tip, squeezing. “That’s not how this is going to go, Puck.”

  “No?”

  She shook her head, hair tossing. “You like to tease and play games? Well, so do I.”

  I growled. “Of course.”

  “You think you could tease me and edge me and force me to beg for the orgasm and not have some kind of payback?” She let go of me, letting my cock rest against my belly. “Silly Puck.”

  I let out a breath slowly, seeking control. “I’m well aware I earned this.”

  “All you have to do is ask, Puck. Beg, like you made me beg.”

  I grinned at her. “Joke’s on you, babe, ’cause I have absolutely no problem with that.”

  She smirked back at me. “Oh no?”

  I shook my head. “Nope.” This part was no bluff, at least. “Please, Colbie.”

  “Please what, Puck?”

  “Touch me again.” I flexed my hips. “Make me come. Please, Colbie.”

  She made a
face, one which seemed to say hmm, I COULD, but . . .

  “Make you come, huh? Just like that? Finish jerking you off?”

  “Yes, please.”

  She flicked open a button of her blouse, letting the blue silk of her bra spill out a bit, along with a tantalizing expanse of creamy cleavage. “What if I decide to toy with you a bit more?” She undid the next button, and she was bared for me, a sapphire blue full-coverage bra enclosing a pair of plump, firm, luscious tits threatening to overflow the confines of the cups. “It was a little too easy to make you beg. It didn’t seem . . . genuine enough. It wasn’t desperate enough.”

  She twisted toward me, eyeing the cabin to make sure no one was watching us.

  “Shit, Colbie.”

  “Yes?” she asked, sounding all innocent. “Is there something you’d like to ask me?” She breathed, tracing the edge of the cups, tugging at them a little.

  I got a hint of darker skin, the outside rim of her areola. My cock throbbed even harder at the prospect of seeing those gorgeous tits bared. “Fuck,” I growled. “You’re good, babe.”

  She smirked, teasing with the cups again, pulling one down just enough to give me a tantalizing glimpse of more of her breast before letting go. Then the other. And she still wasn’t touching me. Letting me cool off, backing away from the edge—only, the torturous teasing she was doing was pushing me right back toward the edge, even though she wasn’t touching me.

  “You want to see these? Is that it?” She tugged down one side, and I got a peek of nipple.

  “Fuck yes, I do.”

  She smirked again, a cruel little grin. “You know, this bra is a front clasp.” She grasped the edges and lifted to open the bra, pulling the edges apart a little, enough to tease, to give me a glimpse of the insides of her breasts, and then closed it again. “Super easy to open and close.”

  I groaned at the tragic loss when she closed it, and then groaned again when she began buttoning the shirt back up. “You’re evil.”