Page 37 of The Pucking Player

He’s mouthwatering in a way that has heat burning me up from the inside.

“Dangerous,” he grunts, as I move lower, lower, toward his bulge. I unbutton his pants and tug them down, removing them along with his boxer shorts, revealing his throbbing manhood. He is now fully naked, glorious muscles shimmering under the soft light of the lamps. I gasp at the sight of his erect cock, surprised and scared by its size.

How will this ever fit inside me?

I lower my head and lick at the tip, tasting the salty liquid and letting it coat my lips, then lazily trail my tongue down the side of his shaft.I’ve never done this before, my rational mind intervenes, but I don’t allow it to take over. As I open my mouth and take him in as much as I can without choking, I hear his groan and a curse.

“You’re killing me.” He pulls me up to his chest. “I won’t last a minute like that, angel,” he growls, as he claims mymouth again. “I want to feel you fall apart around my cock first.”

I don’t have time to react before he flips me over, spreading my legs and swiping his finger over my opening. “You’re so fucking wet for me. I can’t wait to feel you,” he growls, as he thrusts a finger inside my slit. The sudden, sharp stretch freezes me. It’s not pain, but also not pleasure. My pussy clenches frantically trying to keep him out, my thighs trembling.

I jerk away, recognizing in my sensual daze that this might hurt.

He stops, slowly removing his hand and looking at me questioningly.

“Everything alright there, angel?” he asks slowly, his gaze pinning me down.

Ashamed and humiliated, I look away. I assumed that this would be easier. That I’d be ready.

What twenty-one-year-old has never had sex?

“This is my first time,” I admit in a low murmur, looking anywhere but at him.

There is silence for a few beats. I can tell he is weighing his options, his slow, controlled exhale reverberating through the silence. Then I feel his warm hand cupping my cheek, gently turning my head to face him, and placing a kiss on my mouth, breezy like a butterfly spreading its wings.

“I’ll wait, angel,” he whispers hoarsely, his breath soothing and warm.

“But I…I’m ready. I want you,” I manage to stutter, pulling his body close, not wanting the sensations to stop. “Your touch just startled me.”

He smiles knowingly, lowering his head over my throat and trailing the side of my neck with his breath.

“No, angel, not tonight.” He pauses and places a possessive kiss on my lips. “The first time I fuck you, you won’t have drunk anything. I want you to remember every second of me making you mine.”

13

BREAKFAST CAN WAIT

LIAM

Iwake up to a world bleached white, sunlight bouncing off the snow outside and hitting me like a hangover. For a second, I’m lost. Then it all comes rushing back—the gala, the storm, this quaint little B&B that looks like it was decorated by someone’s grandma.

And Sophie.

I turn my head, and there she is. Dark hair wild on the pillow, face soft in sleep.

Damn. I’ve woken up next to my fair share of beautiful women, but this? This is different.

There’s a weird feeling in my chest, like I’ve taken a slapshot to the sternum. But in a good way.

What the hell, O’Connor? Since when do you get all mushy over a girl?

Sophie stirs, her nose doing that cute little scrunch thing. Even passed out, she’s probably solving cancer or something.

My balls are blue, and all I can think about is touching that silky skin and making her mine. But I hold back. Me,Liam O’Connor, the guy who takes what he wants, when he wants it, is actually hesitating. What is this girl doing to me?

Last night was...not what I expected. And not just because we didn’t seal the deal. It’s the way she makes me feel. Like all my smooth moves, all my practiced charm, just...doesn’t cut it.

It’s freaking me out.

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