Page 30 of Justice for Puck Bunnies

“Trick,” she whimpers, and my cock strains against the khakis.

“Tell me you want this,” I fumble out.

“Fuck, yes, I want this.”

I might be merely a knot to her, but I’ll take what she’ll give.

We kick the last of the sheets off and I don’t even pause to pull her panties down. Hard nipples and full breasts stretch the ribbed fabric of her tank as she presses against me, and I’m absolutely certain I’ve never seen anything sexier.

Shoving the crotch aside, I roll two fingers through her slick.

Her kiss takes on more urgency. She bites my bottom lip and sucks it into her mouth, and I want nothing more than to sink my teeth into her neck.

Fuck, Brad. Fuck that guy for having this and being selfish enough to go for someone else. The guy’s a fucking idiot.

“Alpha,” Izzy whines.

“I’m here, omega,” I murmur.

She rotates us to straddle me and grinds her wet pussy against the hard-on crowding my pants. We make quick work of the zip and fly, and only take long enough to frantically shove the fabric and my boxer briefs off my hips.

Izzy raises her hips and positions my cock at her entrance.

But I snatch her thigh before she can sink down.

“Are you sure?” I ask, my voice rough.

A harsh beat of frozen time passes.

“Are you not sure?” she replies, her tone suddenly broken. “Do you not want... Shit, I’m sorry, Trick.”

She backs away and scrambles to the other side of the bed.

All of the air blows out of my lungs like I’ve been kicked in the chest.

Her legs hang off the edge while she rubs her face in her hands.

“This is embarrassing. I’m so sorry, Trick. Please just go. Let’s pretend—”

I grab her arm and stretch her out in the bed.

The woman lying beside me is not the normal Izzy. It’s clear that there’s the Izzy she shows everyone else, the one who’s fearless and brash, the woman who spits in the world’s face.

And then there’s the real woman, who’s hoping no one sees beyond it.

I know something about hiding from the world.

A tear tracks down her cheek. I hate seeing her like this. I wish she’d say something. I don’t know how to respond to her crumbling under perceived rejection.

So, I do the only thing I can think of.

I shift on my knees to the end of the bed.

Standing at the foot, I maintain her eye contact while yanking my shirt overhead and then dropping my pants and boxer briefs entirely to the ground.

Her eyes widen in surprise, the pupils dilating as she takes me in, and fuck if it doesn’t make me want her impossibly more.

The way she looks at me now—she wants me.

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