Page 37 of Pucks and Likes

I want him.

I haven’t allowed anyone to touch me in six months.

And if I’m honest with myself, I’ve craved his touch.

Closure. This is closure.

And let’s be real honest—I fucking love the sight of him on his knees before me.

Alex leans in, running his tongue along my swollen folds. He takes his time, savoring me as I cling to his shoulders. I’m unsteady as fuck, and I can’t blame it on anything but the man before me. He runs his tongue up the slit of my lips, and I cry out when the tip of his tongue lightly strokes my clit. He hums against my folds, and I squeeze his shoulders, his name escaping from between clenched teeth. He then kisses my pussy before rubbing my sides. I open my eyes to find him watching me, his eyes so dark I don’t see even a hint of caramel in them. Just dark chocolate, and boy, do I want to devour him.

His eyes move down my body as he splays his hands over my extended belly. He trails his nose along the curve of my stomach before pressing his lips to my belly button. Tears burn as I watch him kiss my stomach before meeting my gaze. “You remember that night in New Jersey?” he asks, his lips moving against my belly. “When we went to that rooftop restaurant and that family was seated beside us?”

My heart squeezes as I nod. “The couple was celebrating their first wedding anniversary.”

“And they didn’t have family and they wanted a night out, so they brought their baby boys.”

I smile, my heart pounding at the memory. “Chris said he wished he could ask her to dance when the violin started. And you, being you, said, ‘Go dance. We’ll watch the boys.’”

His eyes shine with a gorgeous light. “They didn’t know us, but fuck if they didn’t hand those boys over and hit that dance floor.”

“I still follow them on Insta. The boys just had their first birthdays.”

“I know. I follow them too. I sent them a present from us, the strangers who held them while their parents danced.”

Once more, tears burn in my eyes. I really don’t know why I’m such an emotional mess. “We made their night.”

“We did,” he agrees, stroking my stomach. “That’s also the night I realized I wanted kids. With you.”

My breath hitches as my eyes widen. “Alex, you couldn’t have wanted that.”

“I did,” he insists before reaching for my panties and sliding them down my legs. “I do.”

“Alex,” I practically beg, my heart slamming into my ribs. “It was sex.”

“It wasn’t,” he tells me, once more so damn sure. “You know it wasn’t.”

Before I can even process his words or even try to disagree with him, he stands before me. He reaches behind him, pulling his black tee off his body and dropping it to the floor. My mouth goes dry at the sight of his pecs, the firm muscles of his stomach, and the trail of hair that disappears at his waistline. Alex grabs me by the backs of my thighs and lifts me off my feet with ease before slowly laying me back on the bed and covering my body with his.

His chest molds to mine as he captures my mouth. I wrap my arms around his neck, opening my legs to cradle his hips between my thighs as his hard length presses into my center. I moan as he devours me. His tongue moves with mine, licking, nibbling, and driving me out of my mind. He’s careful of my stomach, holding himself up so he doesn’t crush us, and the easy way he does it hits me square in the chest.

He breaks the kiss to nibble along my bottom lip and my jaw before pushing up to his knees. He unfastens his pants, and the way I watch him is the way someone would watch a god. Unadulterated worship for the man who’s opening his pants, freeing his massive cock. Precome spills from the tip, and I’m salivating for a taste. I lick my lips as he pushes his pants down, kicking them off before taking me by the backs of my thighs and bringing my center to the tip of his engorged flesh. I gasp at the feel of his head at my entrance, and when I arch up to it, his eyes darken.

“Just sex, huh?” he asks, his words clipped and dark. He pushes into me, and I cry out as he fills me deeply, to the hilt. He’s settled inside me, and he cages me in with his hands at either side of my head as his eyes fall to mine.

“It wasn’t just sex,” he says, pulling out, just to jam back in with a vengeance, as if to drive his words home. “Was it just sex when we shared meals?” Thrust. “When I’d kiss your lips before you left me every single time?” Thrust. “Or when you bought me my favorite tape because I forgot to order some and the arena didn’t carry it?” Thrust. “Or when we were in Kentucky and you needed pads and a heating pad because you started, so I ordered it to be delivered before we got to the hotel.”

Thrust.

Thrust.

Thrust.

Thrust.

I’m lost in his words, in the feel of him filling me to the brim, and all I can do is hold on. My fingers bite into his arms, pleasure building throughout my whole body as his eyes keep me trapped. “Alex, please.”

He snarls at my words. “I’m not done.” Thrust. “You want words, here they fucking are.”

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