Page 112 of Revenge Puck

I haven’t let myself look directly at his penis yet, but I look at it now, hard and straining for attention.

The sight of it steals my breath—not because it’s shocking, but because of me. Because of this. Because we’re standing here under warm water, and something between us has shifted from playful to undeniable.

My palms slide down, one hand gliding over his waist, the other to his erection, and slowly I begin stroking him. Firm grip, back and forth, watching his expression as it changes.

Watch as his eyes get hooded.

His lips part.

Aaron extends his arm to grasp the wall as I grip him, jerking him off, intoxicated by the look on his face.

Then, with a shaky breath, his free hand slides down to cover mine, not to stop me—but to guide the pace. Slowing so things don’t spiral out of control.

“Easy,” he murmurs. “I’m so wound up.”

The admission does something to me.

Fueled by this new me, I drag my free hand from his waist to his abs, watching the way his abdomen tightens in response. His grip on the wall shifts as he battles for control over his body.

I lean up and kiss him.

Open-mouthed as water pours over us, our tongues tangling. Hot breath and desire mixes with steam as we involuntarily moan into each other’s mouths, his groan growing louder with every stroke.

Aaron breaks the kiss first.

Pulls back, gripping my wrist.

Breathes in and out, chest heaving.

Eyes squeezing shut.

I stare up at him, confused. What does he want? Why is he stopping? I thought…

“What’s wrong?”

His eyes open slowly. “Nothing is wrong, Juliette. I want you so bad right now it’s not even fucking funny.”

His grip on my wrist softens.

“We don’t have a condom,” he confesses, running his hands through his soaked hair.

I step into him, sliding my hands up his chest, pressing my body flush against his.

“Pull out,” I demand softly, fingers reaching between his legs and cupping his balls. “I don’t want you to stop,”

Aaron moans. “Jesus Christ, Juliette…”

“I love it when you curse,” I admit. “I don’t know why, but everything about you turns me on.”

He blows out a puff of air. “Every time I see you wearing a ribbon in your hair I want to fuck your brains out.”

My lips part at his blunt admission.

“I…” Those ribbons are hardly something that inspire…

Fucking.

“Put your hands on the bench and go up on your toes.”