Page 26 of The Pucking Proposal

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” I rasp. Her bare skin is gleaming with the juices of her orgasm, and her pussy is contracting, looking for something to fill it.

I could fill her better than she’s ever felt before.

I move to the couch, falling to it and pulling myself out once again. The moment gives me a chance to see the uncertainty in her eyes.

“It’s okay. We’re okay. You’re there, I’m here, and we both know what this is, yeah?”

She nods, biting her bottom lip like she’s trying to not say anything or not make noise.

Truthfully, I have no idea what I’m saying, and I damn sure have no idea what this is, but I want it, whatever it is. I don’t think I could stop stroking myself now if Shepherd himself walked into my living room and asked what the hell I’m doing with his sister. I shove that thought away, pushing it to the deep recesses of my mind. He’ll never know. It won’t ruin our friendship. Besides, Joy and I already did this once before.

Not like this. Not where I could see her sweetness spilling onto her fingers. Not when I could see her teasing her clit.

“I barely made it through my front door tonight before I was jacking off,” I confess.

She whimpers. “I could still hear your truck out front when I slipped my hand inside my panties. I was already soaked.”

“God damnit,” I grunt, pumping myself harder and faster. “Why didn’t you answer me when I asked?”

Her fingers pause as she takes a deep breath. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop myself if you were here.” She looks at me clear-eyed and present in the moment, and I understand exactly what she means.

She might want me physically. But she doesn’t wantme. Or doesn’t want to want me.

Because of Shepherd? Or because of who I am?

It’s a question for later because her fingers start to move again. That’s what this is. All that it is. We’re using each other to get off, with a side of good luck for tomorrow’s game. But that seems so distant when she throws her head back and her eyes flutter closed.

“Fuck yourself with your fingers. Slide them inside and let me see how wet you are, baby.” And though I told her to do it, I’m not prepared for what seeing Joy’s fingers disappear inside her pussy does to me. It’s the sexiest thing I think I’ve ever seen.

Except then, she holds them up to the screen, pulling them apart, and I can see the strings of arousal coating them, and I have an entirely new definition of what sexy is. “I’m so wet, Dalton.”

“Jesus,” I mutter. “I’m hard as fuck and about to blow even though I already did a couple of minutes ago. I said your name.”

I shouldn’t tell her that, but it’s the truth.

“Show me what I do to you,” she says.

I angle the phone so she can see all of me—from my balls, up my shaft, my abs and chest, to my face. “Imagine it’s my cock fucking you.” She whimpers, slipping two fingers back inside herself easily. “More. If it’s me, you need at least three fingers. Or a toy that’s bigger.”

The phone goes wonky, bouncing all over the place for a second, and I see the ceiling of her bedroom. But then she’s back, holding up a vibrator with a sexy smirk. It’s still smaller than me, but I want to see her fuck herself with it so damn bad I nearly beg.

She moves around, setting the phone up somehow because then I can see her teasing the toy along her entrance and her other hand spreading her lips to give me a clear view.

“Do it. Fill that pretty pussy and pretend it’s me.”

Her mouth drops open in a gasp as she pushes in the tip and then a couple of inches, never breaking eye contact with me. “Mmm,” she moans, going deeper and deeper. “I dream about you stretching me, wonder what your piercing would feel like—in my throat, in my pussy.”

Pre-come leaks out of my cock and I slip my hand over it, gathering it to spread down my length. “I dream about fucking you hard, my hand around your neck to feel the vibration of you crying out my name as you come. Your pussy’d squeeze me so tight, sucking me off so good.”

Joy moves a hand up to her throat, playing at choking herself the way I said I would.

“You want to go soft for me, baby? Lay back like a pillow princess and let me fuck you rough and raw while you take it, knowing I’ll make you feel good?” I have no idea what I’m saying, but Joy’s earlier words about wanting a soft woman chapter come back to me. But she’s more than that too. “Or do you want to be in control? Ride me, use me for your pleasure, and not let me come until you say I can? Edging me over and over until I’m crazed for you.”

Her eyes light up equally with both options, and honestly, both have me about to explode too.

“I’m close, Dalton,” she moans as she returns her hand to her clit, fucking herself hard and fast with the toy.

“Me too.”

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