Page 63 of Pucking Sweet

“What do you think you’re doing?” I cry. “Lukas, I amnothaving sex with you up against an ice machine!”

He laughs, spinning me around and walking me back until I’m up against the side of the machine. His lips descend once more to kiss my neck as his hands roam.

I’m stiff as a board, pushing uselessly against his shoulders. “Absolutely not. Lukas, anyone could come in here. Hell will freeze over first—ahh—”

He presses two thick fingers back inside me with a satisfied hum, watching as I melt, my body turning to jelly. “There it is,” he teases. “Is this your goddamn ‘off’ switch? When that brain won’t stop whirring, and the mouth won’t stop talking, I’ll know to do this.” He wiggles his fingers and I cling to his arms with both hands. I couldn’t even tell you where I dropped my clutch now.

“Don’t stop,” I beg, my head tipped back against the machine. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Can I take a look at these perky breasts, Pop? I’d like to have one in my mouth when you come all over my hand.”

I nod, eyes shut tight, lost to the sensations coiling deep in my belly.

He peels the strap of my dress down, stretching the fabric until my breast is exposed. My nipple tightens into a little bud at the feelof the exposed air. “So fucking pretty.” He brushes over it with his thumb.

The sensation jolts through me, zapping me right in the clit. Feeling bold, I squeeze my pussy tight around his fingers.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Do that again.”

“Take your shirt off, and I will.”

He kisses my lips, a single hard press, and then he’s pulling back, leaving me reeling. He strips off his shirt, dropping it to the floor, and I get the first real effect of a shirtless Lukas Novikov. This man is a work of art, and I’m not just talking about the tattoos. They paint their way up his arms on both sides, ending in swirls of patterns and colors over his shoulders. He has a few more tattoos dotting his sides and ribs. One sits low on his left hip, a red heart outline with black letters inside spelling FREE.

Aside from the tattoos, the man is in peak physical condition, with hard pecs and washboard abs. A sharp “V” lines either hip, disappearing into his navy dress pants. “Like what you see?” He teases me with a flex of his pecs.

“You’re beautiful,” I admit.

He steps in, cupping my face with both hands. His caramel eyes feast on me, darting to take in all my features. He looks like he’s trying to memorize them, every line, every freckle. “So are you,” he says, voice low.

I brush my hands up his naked sides, smoothing them over his hairless chest. “Do you wax?”

He grins. “Of course. This body is my temple. I take care of it in all ways.” He leans in. “And from what I just felt between your legs, you do too.”

I nod, biting my bottom lip.

“Mind if I see for myself?”

I swallow my gasp. “What? Right here?”

He kisses down my neck to my breast, humming against my skin. “Right here, Poppy. We are not leaving this room until I’ve fucked all this worry right out of you.” Then he closes his mouth around my nipple, sucking it hard.

I swallow my cry, both hands digging into his hair. My dress fights to slip back up over my boob. With a frustrated growl,Lukas forces my hands down. Then he reaches out with both hands and jerks my dress off my shoulders, exposing my whole chest. I free my arms from the straps and wrap them back around his neck as he descends, sucking both breasts and playing with my nipples until I’m rocking against his thigh whispering, “Please, please ...”

“Do you wanna come, Poppy?” He kisses his way up my chest to speak against my ear. “Does my good girl want to show me how well you can finish on my fingers?”

I nod, clinging to his heated skin. He drops his hands to the bottom of my dress, and I do a little shimmy as he pulls it up, exposing my pink thong. Now I’m wearing my dress like a thick scrunchie belt. Lukas doesn’t seem to care one bit. He slips my thong down my legs until it snakes around my ankles. Then he’s dropping down to one knee with a needy groan, both his hands wrapping around to cup my bare ass.

I wobble in my heels, hands on his shoulders as he presses his face to my pussy and breathes in deep. He’s scenting me like a wildcat, and it’s so hot I may combust right here and now. “Lukas, please,” I beg again.

He laughs as he kisses across the tops of my thighs. “Spread these legs a bit for me.”

I do my best in my heels to comply. He parts my lips with two fingers and flicks his tongue against my clit. “Oh god.” My knees are already trembling, and he’s barely even begun. He kisses my smooth pussy lips, parting them wider with his fingers as he probes lower with his tongue.

I practically climb onto his shoulder as I lift a leg off the floor. He helps support me with his free hand before his eager tongue is burying itself deep inside me. He groans, flicking, sucking, and teasing. I sway on one leg, pussy clenching. He replaces his tongue with his fingers, and then his mouth is back on my clit.

“Oh!” I throw my head back so hard it bangs against the ice machine. Behind me, the machine hums and cracks, releasing a fresh collection of ice. He keeps working me over, spinning me tighter with every taste and touch. “Lukas,” I whimper. “I think I’m gonna—”

I’m like a lightbulb left on too long, my essence heating from the inside out until it feels like even my skin is on fire. He adds a third finger. The feeling of fullness in my pussy is the match, andhis velvet tongue on my clit is the strike pad. Hands buried in his hair, I tip my head back and ignite.

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