Page 24 of Pucking Obsessed

Her gasp is soft, almost inaudible, but the way her lips part tells me I’ve struck a nerve. I’m still pissed about that text, but not enough to forget how much I’ve wanted to touch her all night. My hand slides further up her thigh, and this time, she doesn’t push me away.

I lean in again, my lips close to her ear. “Will you come to my game tomorrow night?”

Her breath hitches, and she shakes her head. “That didn’t end well the last time,” she murmurs.

I smirk, letting my fingers drift higher. “I think you meant to say it ended amazing, with you coming all over my tongue.”

Her cheeks flush, and when my fingers brush against the sheer crotch of her panties, my cock hardens instantly. Fuck, I can feel how hot and wet she is.

I want to see them. I want to pull them off with my teeth and spend the whole night just exploring every inch of her.

She tries to push my hand away this time, but I don’t let her. My fingers tease her gently, rubbing her through the thin fabric.

I keep my movements subtle, discreet, but when I glance at her face, I can see it, the way her lips part slightly, the way her breathing quickens.

She doesn’t want me to stop, and I won’t disappoint her. My finger nudges against the entrance to my own personal nirvana, and I nearly lose it. She’s tight. So tight that I have to fight back a groan as her body clenches around me. My cock throbs at the thought of what it would feel like to slide inside her, to be surrounded by all that wet heat.

Her thighs tense against my hand, and I shift my fingers to her clit. I’ve got it in my head that my dick needs to be the first thing to make her cry out, and subconsciously I know if I gave in and plunged my fingers inside of her, she won’t be able to stay silent. I will have to use my dinner knife on every guy’s ears close enough to hear if that happens. She jerks slightly, her lips parting in a silent gasp, and it’s all I can do to keep myself under control. I fucking want her on such a primal level that it’s as if I was born, put on this planet, to please her.

“I want to be alone with you, princess,” I murmur low enough that only she can hear. My voice comes out rough, edged with need, but quiet enough not to alert anyone chatting at our table. “I know the noises you’re pushing down would sound so sweet.”

In my mind, I can already hear how sweet it will be. It would be soft, desperate sounds she’d make if I had her to myself right now. Just the thought of her moaning, of her falling apart for me, is enough to make my cock twitch painfully against my pants. Fuck, if she made even the faintest sound right now, I’d probably come all over myself again. I’m going to have to jerk off severaltimes before I even dare pushing my cock inside of her. I’ll come instantly, and I’m not ashamed of that. She’s that fucking good.

Her breathing hitches, her eyes darting nervously toward the others at the table. They’re all caught up in their conversations, oblivious. I press my thumb against her clit, rubbing small, deliberate circles, and watch as her body shudders slightly. Her lips part, her face softening for a brief moment before she catches herself, clenching her jaw to hold it all in.

“Come to my game,” I murmur, my voice thick with intention. This is probably the only way I’m going to get a yes, and I desperately want a yes from my girl. I want her front row, her eyes glued to me the entire game.

She doesn’t answer, so I ease my hand away, letting my touch disappear just enough to leave her craving it.

“I guess you don’t want to come,” I tease, and I’m pretty proud of my little play on words.

Her eyes snap to mine, her cheeks flushed, her breath coming faster now. “Please,” she whispers, so quiet it’s almost lost in the hum of the restaurant. “Hayden.”

Hearing my name fall from her lips nearly breaks me. She’s my princess. I want to give her everything but I can’t make this too easy. I’m leaning just close enough that my lips almost brush her ear. “Say you’ll come to my game.”

She rolls her eyes, but the slight tilt of her hips toward my hand gives her away. “Fine,” she says, her voice clipped, but there’s a flicker of something in her eyes that resembles anticipation.

I don’t waste a second. My hand moves back to her, my fingers sliding beneath the softness of her panties as I find her clit again. She’s soaked, and it sends a jolt of satisfaction through me to know I’ve done this to her, that she’s wet for me.

She bites her lip hard, her thighs pressing together as if to keep me from pulling my hand away again. I watch her face, theway she’s fighting so hard not to make a sound. I rub her clit slowly, deliberately, watching as her body jerks slightly under my touch. My gaze flicks to her lips, parted and trembling, and I let my hand linger, teasing her just enough to keep her on edge before I pick up speed. It doesn’t take but a few flicks of my fingers to have her eyes fluttering shut and I feel the rush of wetness coat my fingers. Even though I’m not inside of her, I can feel her pussy contracting. The thought of how she’ll feel, milking my cock dry sends a jolt of pleasure straight to my dick.

The need to taste her is too strong, and I pull my hand away, bringing my fingers to my lips. I lick them slowly, savoring her taste because she’s the best thing I’ve ever had in my life.

Her eyes widen, her face going the prettiest shade of pink. For the first time all night, she doesn’t look stressed. That tightness in her shoulders, that flicker of worry in her eyes, it’s gone.

I slide my fingers back up her thigh, my touch lingering just enough to remind her what I want. “You’ll come to my game, and you’ll wear my number,” I murmur, my voice steady.

Her breath catches, and I see the flicker of a challenge in her eyes. She doesn’t say anything, just presses her lips together, until I hear the five most glorious words in the fucking dictionary. “I’ll come to your game.”

MADISON

Isit in the front row at Hayden’s game, my knees bouncing slightly as I glance around. The stands are packed, students filling every seat, their chatter rising over the sound of the pre-game music blasting through the speakers.

I shift in my seat, tugging at the oversized hockey jersey Kirsten shoved at me when she picked me up. I look ridiculous in it, the sleeves hanging past my fingertips, and I’m trying to remind myself that I agreed to this. My legs feel like they’re still wobbling from the orgasm he gave me.

The sound of a buzzer jolts me back to the present, and I look up as the players start skating onto the ice. Hayden moves with a confidence that’s impossible to ignore, his broad shoulders straight, his movements sharp and deliberate. I expect him to focus on the game, but instead, his head tilts slightly, his gaze scanning the crowd.

And then his eyes lock on me.

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