Page 61 of The Puck Player

“Look at you,” he groans, his intense stare consuming me, as he watches me writhe above him. “Look how fucking perfect you are,” he whispers, his mouth once again skimming my throat. His lips and hands are urgent, but still he appears in completecontrol. Apart from his gritted words and harsh hold on me, he seems unaffected as I grind against him. His head dips down again, bringing his lips to the pulse point in my throat, lapping his tongue against it as he taunts, “Is this how you would fuck me, Aubree, a nice slow grind until you get yourself off?” He pulls me against him even more and a moan slips out, as my head tips back and I let my eyes close.

“Oh fuck,” I gasp, but it cuts off into a choked breath, as one of his hands snatches around my throat, making my eyes flare open to meet his.

“Ah ah. Eyes on me, love. I want to watch you fall apart above me, knowing exactly who made you do it,” he demands, his eyes blown out in lust, as I feel the thick length of him pressed against my leg. He uses the grip on my throat to keep me in place, as I fuck myself against his thigh, both of us lost in the moment, as he adds, “I’m going to make you come so hard that even your precious sky daddy will hear it, and know you’ve finally found salvation.”

The hand on my throat squeezes gently, as his other slips inside my underwear, finding me completely soaked, pulling a husky groan from the back of his throat, as I gasp and press into his touch. “Oh my god,” I moan, riding him even faster and chasing my release, and I feel his grin against my mouth as he pulls me in close, his breath ghosting across my lips.

“I’m an atheist, Aubree,” he warns darkly. “If you’re going to scream a name, make it mine.” He uses the grip on my throat to keep me in place as he purrs his response against my lips, and I feel myself gush.

This shouldn't be turning me on this much, but it’s just so dangerous. The forbidden fruit, the proximity of being caught, it’s fueling me in a way I can’t describe. Our eyes lock once more, and something so intense passes between us, that I can’t help but just give myself over to it. There will be no confessiontonight, no, my sins are welcome, as Alexander leads me head first into temptation.

“Alexander,” I moan, delighting in the way his stare darkens at the use of his name, his fingers flexing around my throat as his thumb brushes against my clit. “Oh fuck,” I moan, riding him even faster, losing myself to him completely.

“That’s it, good girl, chase it, own your pleasure,” he praises, and for some reason fresh tears burn at the back of my eyes.

He’s fucking perfect.

My pussy and underwear are slick against him, his cock hard and no doubt begging for attention, but his eyes are only on mine. Watching. Waiting. Completely and utterly captivated by my every breath and moan, my every move being catalogued, as if he is committing them to memory, and all I can do is give him more.

His thumb barely presses against my clit, more friction coming from his thigh than anywhere else, but just like last night, it’s enough. Everything about him is enough, and I know now that his playful arrogance is just a shield to protect his heart, one I desperately want to take for myself.

“Alexander, please,” I beg, wanting more, needing more, and not feeling any shame in asking for it, not with him.

“Oh, I always knew you’d beg so pretty, love,” he gleams, his grin so filthy that I’d give him anything he wanted if he asked. “Go on, do it some more, tell me what you need and maybe I’ll give it to you.” His teeth once again dance along the juncture of my throat, tasting, teasing, and my entire body burns with need.

“More, Alexander, I need more, please,” I gasp, and I feel his smirk against my neck, as he once again groans.

“Fuck, Aubree, what the hell are you doing to me?” he grunts beneath his breath, more to himself than to me, but still his words light me up. Then he once again grips my hips and stands, wrapping my legs around him, before slamming me into the sideof the confessional, his jean-clad cock brushing right against my center. “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.”

With a rough thrust of his hips, I am crying out. “Are you talking to God or my daddy?” I ask on a moan, but of course he just smirks, pulling another moan from the back of my throat, as he groans.

“I’m your only daddy right now,” he grits, fucking me without fucking me, and nothing in the history of the world has ever felt this good.

“Don’t stop, Alexander, please,” I cry in desperation, and he huffs a knowing laugh, as if he can feel this pleasure just as much as I do.

“I haven’t stopped since the second I laid eyes on you,” he snaps, his stare searing into mine, before it drops to my lips, and he licks his in anticipation.

I want to kiss him, but I remember what he said, what he meant. So I won’t, not here, not like this, not as part of some twisted game. Instead, I grip the back of his neck and use his hold on me to grind against him, as he ruts against me, and we move in sync as one, more connected than I have ever been with another person, my purity be damned.

“Come on, little sinner, come for me,” he demands, dry humping me into the wall, and my entire body feels like it’s going to explode.

I tighten my hands and thighs around him, welcoming every thrust of his hips, and for the first time in my life contemplating having sex.

What would it feel like if we ripped away the layers between us and he slid inside of me? What would it be like if, instead of my fingers, it was his cock? If, instead of a heated game in a confessional, it was us spread out in his bed, succumbing to our every desire?

Every thought paints an image so raw and real in my head, that my entire body begins to shake. “Mmm, that’s it, good girl,” he approves, before his fists tighten to an almost painful grip at my waist, before he picks up the pace even more. “Oh fucking hell,” he adds with a curse, and I smirk, as our bodies wring one another of our pleasure.

“You shouldn’t say hell in here,” I choke out, knowing that if anyone is close by they will know exactly what we are doing.

“I also shouldn’t dry fuck you against this wall, but that isn’t stopping me,” he snaps back, his fingers now biting into my skin beneath his jersey.

“There is nothing dry about it,” I scoff, gyrating my hips, before I throw my head back, my limbs now trembling. “Oh god yes,” I rush out, the three words being pulled from the back of my throat, and Alexander slams me harder into the wall, fucking me rougher.

“There is only one name you should be screaming, love, and it isn’t fucking God’s,” he snaps, his eyes feasting on my body as it moves against his. “You’re wearing my fucking jersey, and tonight you will be sleeping in my fucking bed, so make it my fucking name you’re screaming, especially when I am about to make you come.”

His words are all I need to hurtle off the edge of a cliff, falling blissfully into his sweet oblivion. “Alexander,” I cry in pure pleasure, coming apart at the seams, and he laps up every second of it, until he too is shuddering against me.

“Oh fuck,” he grunts, rolling his hips a few more times until he stills against me, dropping his head to my shoulder and panting roughly. “You’re seriously going to be the death of me, Aubree Callows.”

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