Page 67 of The Puck Player

I open my mouth to ask Alexander more about them, but he is already spinning me toward him and checking me over. “Are you okay?” he asks, clearly worried, but I nod my head.

“Of course I’m okay. I like your friend by the way, he’s funny and sweet, in his own way,” I laugh, thinking about our interaction, and Alexander blinks back a little, before shaking his head and signalling for another drink.

“Aubree, only you would call a diagnosed psychopath sweet,” he breathes, loosening his bow tie. “You really are trouble,” he adds with a laugh, passing me a fresh glass of champagne.

“Well, I’ve been sleeping with you, so clearly there must be something wrong with me,” I reply sweetly, and his stare locks on mine and turns dark.

“Just wait until you fuck me, love,” he warns darkly, lowering his voice as his lips ghost against my ear. “Then the only thing wrong with you is that you won't be able to walk.”

“Hmm, promises, promises.”

The rest of the party passes in a blur of drinking, dancing, and being introduced to more people than I have ever met in my life, until Alexander decides he has shared me long enough and calls for the car to take us home.

“Aren’t we going to wait for your parents?” I ask, as he leads me back outside, the paparazzi having thankfully dwindled.

“No, they will probably be gone all night knowing them,” he replies mindlessly, opening the car door for me.

“All night?” I ask in disbelief, as he slides in beside me and closes the door, signaling to the driver that we can leave.

“Yes, where do you think I get my wild ways from?” he winks, and I roll my eyes, but then delight as he slides his hand onto my thigh to curl my fingers with his own, as if he’s done it a hundred times before.

And the crazy thing is, it feels like he has. There was no point today where anything felt awkward, not when I met his parents, not when we kissed, not when we danced at the party. No, it all felt natural, as if it were exactly what we were meant to be doing, and I can’t help but tighten his fingers between my own.

Alexander forces the driver to stop for pizza on our way home, which we drunkenly share, and by the time we get back to the penthouse and make our way to his room, I am feeling happier than I thought possible, especially given the last year, but that’s just what he does. He makes everything better, he makes me better, and I can’t help but watch him as he moves to his desk and starts getting undressed.

His bow tie has already been completely loosened and hangs free around his neck, so first goes his watch. He unbuckles it and lays it flat on the wood, before emptying his pockets of his phone and wallet, laying them beside it. Next it’s his cufflinks, unfastening them and tossing them with his other things, before he shrugs out of his jacket and folds it over the chair. I remain rooted in the spot by his bed, watching as his deft fingers start to unfasten the buttons on his shirt. The four at his wrists first, before he moves to the ones at his collar, and I swear I can feel my heartbeat in my throat.

A feeling that is only intensified when his shirt falls open, revealing not just his toned torso, but a small, delicate and familiar gold ring hanging on a chain around his neck. My purity ring.He’s wearing my purity ring. It shouldn’t thrill me in the way that it does, not given the reason I wore it in the first place, and especially not given the reason I took it off, but it does. He claimed me, claimed my ring, and now he’s wearing it.

“Gonna need you to stop staring at me like that, Trouble,” his teasing voice cuts into the silence, and my eyes snap to his, finding him watching me watch him.

“Like what?” I ask innocently, pretending he didn’t just catch me practically drooling over him.

“Like you want to see me naked,” he states matter of factly, turning to lean on his desk, as his fingers reach down and slowly begin to unbuckle his belt.

“Nothing I’ve not seen before,” I breathe, unable to take my eyes off him, so desperate for another look at him even though I know it will take my breath away. “In fact, it was a little lacking in my opinion,” I add with a shrug, and his stare darkens with a flirty smirk.

“Careful now, or I might think that wicked mouth of yours needs to be punished.” He pushes up off his desk and slowly starts to make his way toward me, and I know why, he’s testing me, testing the situation.

We’re alone in his room with no barriers left between us, and yet still I know he would stop if I wanted him to, but it’s too late for that.

“Maybe it does,” I reply, tracking every step he takes, as he closes the distance between us, my heart now working overtime in my chest.

“Hmm, is that right?” he asks, as he reaches me, one of his hands finding its new found place on my hip, while the other grazes my throat, as he uses his thumb to tip my head back. “Andtell me, my little sinner, should I punish it with my mouth, or my cock?”

His words are gritted against me, sending a shudder down my spine as he claims my lips with his, kissing me like it might be the last thing he ever does. It’s harsh, brutal, and nothing like the one we shared earlier. No, this one has intent now, it has purpose, it tells me that he’s waited long enough, and he’s ready to take something more. Which is good, because after everything he has given me, I’m ready to give him so much more in return.

I pull back and drop to my knees, relishing in the way his hand stays hooked around my throat, his thumb moving to brush against my now swollen lips. “Cock it is,” he grunts, reaching for his belt and pulling it out of his pants in one quick swoop, tossing it aside without care.

Then I watch as he unfastens his pants, shoves them down and releases himself, fisting his cock in his hand and giving it one smooth, long stroke, coaxing himself to life. My eyes leave his and drop to his impressive dick, not that I have anything to compare it to, but I can’t imagine a world where anyone else’s cock is better than Alexander Reign’s.

It’s long,too long, with a prominent vein running along the bottom that I imagine tracing with my tongue. “Oh my god,” I breathe, licking my lips, as I watch him slide his hand up and down himself, swiping his thumb across his crown and spreading some of the precum there.

“What did I tell you about that name, Aubree,” he warns, releasing himself instantly, and pressing his wet thumb against my lips. “Hmm, maybe I really do need to punish this mouth.” He pairs his words with shoving his thumb against my tongue, pressing it down against it until I can taste him, and I have no choice but to suck him gently. “Good girl,” he breathes, watching me closely, before pulling back and adding, “but it’s too late to be good now, little sinner.”

He keeps his eyes on mine as he reaches out to his bedside table to grab something, bringing it back to his cock, and it’s only when I look down again that I find him wrapping something familiar around his cock.My black rosary beads. My eyes snap back to his, and he is watching me knowingly, as he begins to jerk himself with my beads.

“Let’s see how well you can call out to your god with my cock in your mouth, Trouble, now open wide.” I obey him instantly, so transfixed on the sight of my holy beads against the smooth skin of his shaft that I can’t help it, and he uses the distraction to press the tip of himself against my tongue. He still strokes the bottom of his shaft with the beads, as he adds, “Come on, Trouble, suck me into that pretty mouth like I have been desperate for.”

---