Page 83 of Puck Me Twice

She arches her back, thrusting against my fingers. “Yes.”

“Oh, okay then.” I slide my fingers from within her. Even though I already know she tastes incredible, I can’t resist the urge to lick my fingers clean.

“Sven.” She huffs out a breath. “You’re being mean.”

Rolling onto my back, I pull her with me until she’s sprawled on top of me, her smaller body a pleasant weight on top of mine. Almost like my weighted blanket. Except better, because we’re both naked, and she smells and tastes amazing, and…

Vanessa rises up onto her knees. She grasps my cock and puts the tip at her entrance. My hands move immediately to her hips.

I expect her to go slow. I expect her to tease, to take her time.

What I’m not expecting? Her to slide down onto me, the slick glide of her cunt around me so fucking perfect I lose my breath and all ability to think.

She fucks herself on my cock until I’m as deep as I can go. Planting her hands on my chest, her nails curling into my pecs, Vanessa lifts up and sinks back down. My eyes roll back into my head. She rolls her hips, grinding her clit against my pelvis.

As I move my thumb to rub her clit, she inhales sharply and then clenches around me. I urge her up, thrust up into her. She grunts. Her nails dig into my pecs in a sharp-sweet bite.

Urging her down, I splay my hand on her back, and she folds down until her chest is pressed to mine.

When her skin touches mine, it’s like every nerve ending lights on fire—in the best possible way. I feel safe and seen, like she can see inside my soul and see the truth of who I am. There’s an incredible intimacy in knowing the way someone moves and tastes and feels. It’s not awkward in the slightest as we try new angles and rhythms. It’s… comfortable.

This is what I’ve been looking for and never been able to recreate.

And reality? It’s so much better than my memory of the last time we were together.

A part of me worried I was too caught up in the fantasy for this to work. I didn’t want to hyperfixate on a memory that was faulty from the beginning.

But this—we’re good at this. It’s like there’s a lock inside my chest, and she’s the key that clicks into place.

I don’t need her. I can survive without her. I’m a whole and complete person even without a partner.

But I don’t want to do this without her.

And as I thrust up into her and my hands trace her smooth skin, I know that this is it for me. This is what I’ve been searching for. My body buzzes with overstimulation and it’s difficult to focus on any one thing.

Vanessa kisses me, her mouth hot and needy, and I return my attention to us and what we’re doing. She feels amazing, her greedy cunt welcoming me eagerly. Her hand is on my throat, not exerting pressure, just resting there, letting me know she could if she wanted.

And I think I want her to.

Working my hand between us, I touch her where we’re joined. Her breath catches. I urge her upright again, then lean forward to fuse my mouth to her tit, laving on the pebbled nipple with my tongue. I bite gently on the sensitive bud and suck away the sting.

She comes with a cry, her fingers spasming around my throat, and that’s all I need to let go. Her slick channel clenches around me. My thrusts become erratic as I chase that high. Pleasure shoots up my spine and I erupt, releasing into the condom.

Vanessa slumps against me, her arms loose around my neck. Rolling her onto her back, I deal with the condom and then pull her into my arms. Her head pillows on my pec, her fingers tracing the divots of my abs.

“I forgot,” she says, breathing hard.

“What did you forget?” I catch her hand with mine, bringing her knuckles to my lips, then tuck her palm against my chest.

“How good this can be with the right person.” She swallows, looking up at me. “With my forever person.”

twenty-eight

. . .

Vanessa

I can’t wipe the smile off my face. All week long at work, people give me knowing smirks. I’m sure they can guess what goes on between me and Sven after hours. For each of the four-game home stretch, between games, I stay at Sven’s place. In the evenings, I go to the game, watching from the pit. During the break between periods, he’s focused on the game, but as soon as the final buzzer sounds, he wraps me up in a hug in front of everyone.