Page 10 of Pucked On Camera

"Here we are," Riley announces as he parks on the street in front of my apartment building.

"Thanks again." I reach for the door handle but pause at the sound of my name.

"Amelia?" I turn towards him; his eyes searching mine.

I swallow hard, knowing that this could be the crossroads of change. "Yeah?" I reply and lick my parched lips.

"Are you okay?" His question is simple but loaded with meaning.

I nod, meeting his gaze. "I will be.”

He reaches his hands up gently to cup my face. His thumbs brush my cheeks, and I like the roughness of his callused hands.

"Princess." The endearment and low tone of his voice vibrates through the space. "Are you sure?"

His eyes seem to search my face for any sign of distress. My body heats up. Every breath pulls me deeper into his presence. It's like standing on the edge of a cliff and not knowing what’s going to happen next.

"Amelia?" he repeats with a hint of urgency.

"Riley," I manage to whisper. I lean in, closing the gap between us with a kiss that starts tentatively but grows bolder by the second.

His hand slides to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, deepening our kiss until the world outside this SUV no longer exists.

It's just us—the heat, the hunger, the undeniable need.

He pulls back, and the sudden loss of contact leaves me chasing after his warmth.

“Would you like to come up?" I say breathlessly.

The corner of his mouth quirks up in a half-smile, and without another word, we exit the vehicle.

The chill outside is not even a thought as Riley and I tumble through my front door, a tangle of limbs and hurried breaths. My key clatters to the floor, forgotten in the rush of hands roaming just about everywhere and kisses. The door slams shut with a thud that punctuates the urgency between us.

"Princess," he murmurs against my lips, his hands already skimming down to the hem of my sweater top. I arch into him, as he lifts the fabric over my head.

My skin tingles where the cool air hits, but it's nothing compared to the heat of his touch. His shirt joins mine on the floor in a crumpled mess.

"Here?" I gasp out, halfway between a question and a plea, as we back towards the couch. The light in the living room remains off with the only light shining coming from the kitchen. That was the only switch I could reach in my haste to enter and get my body wrapped back around Riley as fast as possible.

"Yes, it’s as good as any," he says, voice rough like gravel, and I agree because, God, it's been too long since I've felt like this—wanted and wild.

The couch is there in a flash, a soft landing as we fall onto it, all eager hands and seeking mouths; the bedrooms might as well be miles away. I'm vaguely aware of the precarious stack of yoga mats in the corner and the nearly closed door to my video studio—an off-limits area I'm not ready to share.

"Riley," I whisper, as he finds the waistband of my leggings and begins to peel them down. He's just as quick to shed his shirt.

He wraps his strong arms around me, one hand sliding up my back to cup my head gently while the other navigates between our bodies, finding the sensitive bundle between my legs. He massages my clit through my panties, dragging out a whimper of need from deep within me.

He groans in response, the sound vibrating against my neck as his lips trail hot kisses down it. His fingers work expertly at the thin layer of fabric separating us, teasing and prodding until I gasp for air. With a swift tug, he pulls off my panties, tossing them aside before burying his face between my thighs. His tongue darts out to taste me while his fingers explore my entrance, teasing it with gentle pressure that has me writhing beneath him.

"Dear Lord," I curse under my breath as he laps at me slowly and methodically. Each lick sends shockwaves of pleasure through me. Each nip of his teeth makes me gasp louder than before. Myhands weave in his hair, tugging gently on the dark strands to pull him impossibly closer.

Riley hums in approval against my clit, standing up suddenly to yank off his jeans and boxers and cover his hardness with a condom before he lines himself up at my wet center. His thick length rubs against my swollen entrance at just the right angle. With one swift push forward of his hips, I feel full and even more needy despite the slight discomfort of being stretched so suddenly.

“Damn, Princess,” he says on a grunt while he pauses to let me get accustomed to his girth.

"Riley," I breathe out into the room as he starts to thrust shallowly inside me with a slow but steady rhythm. Our skin slaps together loudly each time we connect. It’s raw need colliding with barely contained passion. The smell of sweat mixes with the scent of sex, making the air around us stimulating and intoxicating all at once.

His hands find mine gripping the sides of the cushions, and he forces them above our heads to pin them there firmly so that his intense blue eyes are staring into my hazel ones. The grasp is unbreakable as if holding onto something precious… or maybe just staking claim to what's already his.

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