Page 51 of Pucked and Pregnant

I bite my lip at the sight of his hard length.

I flick my tongue across his tip and his entire body shakes. Call it compulsion or obsession but I have to please him.

My lips wrap around his cock and I take him into my mouth as deep as he can go. His hand grips the back of my head and I let him fuck me like a toy.

Each moan he makes gets me even more wet. I might come again just from the sounds he makes.

Right when I think he’s about to finish, he pulls me back up to eye level.

“As much as I want to come in your very talented mouth, I need that pretty pink pussy wrapped around me more. Will you let me fuck you, angel?”

“Yes.”

He grabs my waist and eases me onto his cock. Just the feel of him inside me has my eyes rolling back in my head.

I try to go slow, to draw it out and let him watch me ride him, but the feel of his cock inside has my resolve crumbling.

Aiden thrusts up into me, hitting my sweet spot each time. I’m so lost in the feel of him that I almost forget how to breathe.

“I’m so close, angel. I want you to come with me.”

I grab his hand and place it on my breast. “Then touch me.”

Instead of teasing me with his fingers, he leans up and sucks my nipple into his mouth. His other hand drifts down between us to play with my clit.

I feel my whole body start to clench, and with one skilled flick of his thumb we both come blissfully undone.

14

CONNOR

No matter how often I come to Vegas, I’m still starstruck every time. There’s always a new hotel and casino and another new show. I’m convinced they just spring out of the ground when no one’s looking.

It’s a city where time doesn’t exist.

There is Vegas showgirl entertainment going on while we’re out for a pre-practice breakfast. I’m not complaining. The women are gorgeous, but I’ve always associated that type of event with the nightlife. It makes my brain itch to see them performing during the day.

Brain itch or not, these women are seriously talented. I wouldn’t be surprised if Aiden’s next series of paintings feature them.

As I continue to watch the nearly naked showgirls dance across the stage, I can’t help but think how much easier it is to fuck a stranger. When you pick someone up in a club or a casino, it’s easy to keep things from getting personal. Both of you know it’s a casual hookup, you have your fun, then part ways the next morning.

Simple.

Clean.

Uncomplicated.

Someone I bring home for just a night isn’t going to care if I can’t fall sleep until I’ve triple checked the door is locked. They’re not going to notice that I alphabetize my spice cabinet or the twitch that develops in my eye if the fridge magnets aren’t perfectly lined up.

I get my needs met without letting anyone see past the layer of charm I cocoon myself in. It’s something that’s been working for me since college.

Except now it’s starting to feel less satisfying.

The image of Liv splayed out on white sheets with her back arched brings unbidden thoughts into my mind.

I shake my head to try and clear them but she refuses to leave.

That night should have gotten her out of my system. It was supposed to be just a one-night thing like all the other women before her.

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