Page 72 of Revenge Puck

“Why not?” He leans down and flicks his tongue over my nipple. Sucks. “I’m already so hard, these are making it worse.”

My face is on fire.

Body a blazing inferno.

Every touch feels amplified. Charged. His mouth takes its sweet, delicious time, and I forget how to breathe, my lungs fighting for air.

Then—

“What would your brother say,” he asks casually, voice rough against my skin, “if he saw you naked in my bed?”

I scowl, even as a laugh slips out. “Why would you bring him into the conversation? Talk about a buzz kill.”

His mouth curves against my skin like he enjoys the reaction almost as much as he enjoys touching me. He shifts his weight, one hand sliding to cup my other breast, thumb brushing slowly, deliberately, as if he’s testing how sensitive I’ve become.

Which is unfair.

Because I’ve become very sensitive.

I shiver when his palm tightens and his mouth closes around me, warm and slow, and I tug lightly at his hair without meaning to. He makes a low sound at that—pleased—and the vibration shoots straight through me.

“Feels naughty keeping so many secrets, doesn’t it?” he murmurs against my skin.

The words should make me pause.

Instead, they make my stomach flip.

I nod, breath hitching. “What I do is none of his business.”

Aaron hums low in approval, a sound that vibrates straight through me. “Goddamn right it’s not.”

His mouth drifts lower, slower now, like he’s savoring me. He is in no rush.Every inch he covers feels intentional, worshipful almost, and I have to swallow back the little sounds threatening to escape.

My hands slide down his shoulders, over the hard, sculpted line of his back. He’s solid beneath my palms—heat and muscle and tension coiled tight. A spring waiting to snap. I can feel how much he wants me in the way he holds himself, in the careful restraint threaded through every touch.

I arch instinctively when his lips find the sensitive spot below my collarbone. He lingers there, teeth grazing lightly—enough that my breath stutters—before soothing the sting with a slow, open-mouthed kiss.

“Juliette?”

“Mmm?”

“You’re on birth control, yeah?” he asks so matter-of-factly that the directness of the question sobers me.

“Honestly? No, I…”

I haven’t been in a relationship in a long time, and Preston wasnew. I have no interest in putting my body through all those changes unless I have a damn good reason to.

Or a commitment.

I shake my head.

No.

Aaron’s nostrils flare, eyes alive with arousal. “I’ve got you—there are condoms in the nightstand. We’re covered.”

Uh-huh. Of course there are.

The practicality of all this unnerves me. As if he does this often, meanwhile, my thighs are already shaking and we haven’t even…you know.And now we’re talking about safe sex and condoms while I quiver on his mattress.