Page 80 of Pucked and Pregnant

I look at Liv, thinking for the umpteenth time how beautiful she is and how unworthy I am of her affection. I don’t even know what to call our relationship, and yet she’s always here for me, even when I need a place to stay, or a literal shoulder to cry on.

A small part of me feels a little ashamed for sobbing on her shoulder like a child, but I feel so much better now. Besides, she treated me with kindness and care, not like I was some kind of weak freak.

“You know that you can share your feelings with people,” Liv says to me, her voice tender and her eyes warm as they search my face. “The more you bottle stuff up, the worse it gets.”

I ponder the small shadow of emotion that passes over her face at her own words, but it’s there and gone so fast I’m not sure what it was.

“I would rather know why you’re upset than have to guess and worry whether or not I’m the cause of it,” she says to me.

I nod. “I know. It’s just… well, we didn’t really do that in my family. My dad thought he could solve a lot of problems with his fists, not words.” I gulp back the tight feeling that has taken hold of my throat.

Liv reaches out and places her hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. That’s terrible. But I’m always here for you, okay?”

I look at her in silence for a moment, emotions warring within me. I’m feeling so much already, my attachment to her growing stronger every day. The word love enters my thoughts and I immediately push it down.

I lean forward and kiss her before I follow that line of thought any further. I have been vulnerable enough over the last hour to last a lifetime. I just want to start doing something that I know I’m good at, that doesn’t cause me to doubt myself.

Being affectionate and sexy with Liv is definitely something I’m good at.

I tumble her back onto the couch and she squeals in surprise then laughs. I rain kisses along her neck, pressing them firmly into the ridges of her collarbones. I reach for the hem of her shirt, and she helps me slip it off and toss it on the floor. She isn’t wearing a bra, and her breasts are on full display for me. I stare at them, my mouth practically watering. Are they bigger than I remember them?

I reach out and gently caress them with my hands, and she moans and presses up into my touch.

“Oh god,” she rasps out, her head tilted back. “That feels so good. Don’t stop.”

I grin at her and oblige, kneading them softly and bending forward to suck first one nipple, and then the other, into my mouth. She arches even further into my touch. The soft, panting sounds she’s making are causing my cock to become as hard asiron, but I’m determined to put her needs before mine, even if my body is raging for physical and emotional release tonight.

“I have clearly not been getting enough time with these,” I say to her as I lavish more attention on her perky, full breasts. “I don’t remember them being this big, or this sensitive. They’re delicious.”

She looks at me for a moment, that same flicker of emotion or thought slipping in despite the haze of passion, but then it’s gone again. She reaches up and pulls me down for a kiss that makes me feel dizzy with want.

“I need you inside of me. Now,” she says.

I grin at her and pull away, shucking off my shirt then stepping away from the couch for a moment to step out of my joggers. She keeps her eyes locked on me hungrily as she lifts her hips and removes her pajama pants.

“Why so impatient?” I ask her quietly, covering her body with mine again, but ignoring the not-so-subtle movements of her hips beneath me. I smooth her hair away from her face and drop a kiss on the end of her nose, then onto her full lips. She tries to rise up and deepen the kiss, but I draw back again.

“Clearly you’ve never heard of lovemaking,” I say to her, my voice husky.

She snorts. “I don’t desire lovemaking, I desire fucking,” she retorts.

I shake my head and drop little kisses on her ribs. She sighs softly, her body beginning to relax.

“Spoken like a woman who has only fucked men who were in a hurry to get to the finish line,” I reply, my tone slightly chiding as I place a few more kisses on her ribs on the other side. “Mature, thoughtful lovers, understand that there are two kinds of sex.”

“Maybe I’m not mature or thoughtful,” she retorts, but there’s no heat in her words.

I hum lightly in reply then delve my tongue teasingly into her belly button. She gasps and I feel the muscles under my lips tense. I kiss the spot below her navel, then place open-mouthed, slightly sloppy kisses on both of her hip bones. She squirms, making delightful little noises that make my cock twitch against her thigh.

“Well, I happen to be both mature and thoughtful,” I say to her. “At least most of the time,” I amend before I breathe out over her dripping pussy.

“Connor,” she sighs, lifting her hips slightly.

“Shh,” I say before I begin licking her. “Let me show you what’s possible when you slow down a little.”

“You’re lucky I like you,” she says to me, “or else I’d be really mad at you for torturing me like this.”

I chuckle but don’t say a word. Instead, I probe ever so gently with my tongue between her folds. I’m rewarded with another cry of pleasure and a buck of her hips.

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