Page 3 of Pucking the Enemy

A very handsome someone who I was considering climbing like a tree.

“I’m calling bullshit on your height, Duchess.”

“That’s rude.” I turned my nose up at him, even though the effect was somewhat ruined by the smile I couldn’t keep off my face.

“I never said I was a gentleman.” He shrugged. “A gentleman wouldn’t be having the thoughts I am.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. My thoughts are hardly ladylike,” I admitted, taking a small sip of my drink, the sweet strawberry making me hum in happiness.

Roman’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “And what thoughts are you having, Duchess?”

I leaned forward, preparing to be brave. If Sebastian could have a load of puck bunnies hanging off him, then I could have a little fun of my own without feeling guilty. “Dirty ones,” I declared.

“What a bold little omega you are,” he said, leaning over and grabbing a can of beer, cracking it open and taking a sip, his eyes never leaving me.

“I’m trying something new.” I shrugged. “What do you study?”

“Business and communications. What about you?”

“English major, with a minor in textiles.” As I spoke, his hand slowly inched around my waist, leaving a trail of fire through the material of my dress.

“Smart woman,” he murmured, dipping his head so our lips were less than an inch apart. His breath smelled like rum and dark fruit. It was a delicious and heady mix, and I wanted more.

“We’ve only just met,” I mumbled.

“I know. This is weird, but there’s something about you that’s just so…”

I huffed lightly. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

He laughed, the sound almost drowned out in the loudness of the room. His hand gripped my hips, pulling me flush with him.

My entire body warmed at the sensation.

He was hard, his cock pressed firmly against me.

I silently thanked the gods that we were in a loud party, full of various scents, so he probably couldn’t smell just how turned on the feel of his hardness made me. Were we alone, he would undoubtedly get a noseful of my slick.

“Usually, I’m a lot cooler,” he said. “But for some reason, I can’t seem to manage that with you.” His breath danced across my face as he spoke. All I needed to do was inch forward the smallest amount, and I would be kissing him.

Discarding my can on the counter, I rested my hands lightly on his chest. Momentarily, I considered pushing him away. We were at a party, after all, and we had hardly spoken two sentences to each other.

He smelled so fucking good, though.

I was an omega, he was an alpha. It was just biology.

My hands slowly trailed up his chest, coming to rest around his neck, feeling the wiry muscles underneath.

His lips brushed against mine softly. My breath hitched, fingers clenching. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I had left indents in his skin from my nails.

A low hum escaped his throat as I closed the distance, pressing my lips more firmly to his. My body molded to his as he pushed me back, the edge of the counter digging into my back, leaving nothing between us. His cock was still firmly against me, and I shivered in excitement.

How long had it been since I’d had sex, good sex, not mediocre, one-pump-chump sex?

The only thing I was thinking about was how badly I wanted to keep tasting this alpha. After pushing forward, he took the hint and swiftly took over, his lips molding to mine in firm and soft movements.

Every ridge of his body felt perfect. His hands grazed over my hips, pulling me tighter against him, his lips never letting up on their assault.

“Please tell me you live nearby. I’m a twenty-minute ride away,” I panted breathlessly, my lips brushing him as I spoke.

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