Page 11 of Puck Me at Midnight

He steps closer, his eyes searching mine. “Tell me I’m not the only one feeling this.”

I shake my head, my heart pounding. “You’re not.”

His hand comes up to cup my cheek, and then his lips are on mine, warm and insistent. The kiss is everything—soft and urgent, tender and desperate. When we finally pull back, I’m breathless, my hands gripping his jacket to keep myself steady.

“Let’s go home,” he whispers, his forehead resting against mine.

I should say no and have him drop me off at a friend’s house. I should think about the boys, about the lines we’re crossing, about everything that could go wrong. But all I can think about is how right this feels.

“Okay,” I breathe.

The ride back to his place is a blur, a whirlwind of stolen kisses and unspoken promises. By the time we’re inside, the tension between us has reached a breaking point.

His bedroom feels different tonight as if the very air knows something is about to shift. The soft, amber light of the bedside lamp casts long shadows on the walls, cocooning us in a world of our own. Spike stands in front of me, his broad frame towering, but his gaze is tender, searching.

“Are you sure?” His voice is low, almost a whisper, and I can see the restraint in his expression, the way he’s holding himself back, giving me the chance to change my mind.

I step closer, the warmth of his presence drawing me in. “I’ve never been more sure,” I say, my voice steady despite the rapid beat of my heart.

The words seem to release something in him. His shoulders relax and he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. The touch is so simple, yet it sends a ripple of warmth through me, grounding me in this moment.

When he kisses me, it’s slow and unhurried, a gentle exploration that deepens with every passing second. His lips are soft but firm, moving against mine in a way that feels both tender and consuming. My hands find their way to his chest, the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt making my fingers tremble.

“Emma,” he murmurs against my lips, pulling back just enough to look at me. His eyes are dark, filled with something I can’t quite name but feel in every cell of my body. “You’re so much more than I ever expected.”

I can’t speak, so I let my actions say what my words can’t. I slide my hands up to his shoulders, pulling him closer, and he responds instantly, his arms wrapping around me, holding me as if he never wants to let go.

He guides me toward the bed, his touch reverent, his movements deliberate. My heart pounds as he unbuttons my dress, his fingers brushing against my skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. There’s no rush, no urgency, just a steady unraveling of our barriers, both physical and emotional.

When his shirt joins my dress on the floor, I take a moment to look at him, at the strength in his body, the muscles honed by years on the ice. My hands trace the lines of his chest, and he shivers beneath my touch, his breath hitching.

“You’re beautiful,” I whisper, surprising myself.

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, but there’s an intensity in his eyes that tells me he doesn’t take the words lightly. “You have no idea what you do to me, Emma.”

As we sink onto the bed, the world outside disappears. The feel of his skin against mine is electric, every touch igniting a spark that seems to light me from within. His hands explore my body. His mouth kisses my collarbone and works his way down. He pulls the cups of my bra down and slips my breast out the top.

“Damn, sugar,” he moans just before sucking one nipple into his mouth. He sucks hard, and I feel it through my whole body. He quickly switches to my other breast and runs his fingers around the wet, puckered nipple he just released.

I run my hands through his hair. I want to explore his body, but he’s not done. He places small kisses and runs his lips down my stomach, stopping at the waistband of my panties.

“I’m gonna take these off. I need to taste you,” he whispers against me.

I raise my hips to help him remove them and then spread my thighs for him. I’m never this bold in bed, but I’ve also never wanted a man this badly.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He runs a finger through the wetness gathered between my thighs and then brings it to his lips. He quickly moves his shoulders between my legs and runs his tongue through my slit, sucking my clit into his mouth.

“Spike, I’m gonna come,” I cry out to him.

“Yes, you fucking are,” he says and doubles his efforts with his mouth. I immediately orgasm with a strength I didn’t think I was capable of. Spike slowly kisses me as I come down and then moves back up my body. His lips meet mine, and I taste myself on him. It’s sexy as hell.

“I want you, Spike.”

“I’m yours, sugar.”

Spike pulls me up and removes my bra. Then he lays me back down on the bed before standing and removing the rest of hisclothing. The man is truly a work of art. His cock is big and hard. He grabs a condom out of his drawer and slides it on.

Then he lines his cock up against my slit and slowly enters my body. It feels different than it ever has before. In and out he moves faster until I feel again like I’m reaching that magical moment.

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