Page 204 of Pucking Sweet

“Fucking cherish you.” My hand cups her breast over her shirt as I start to rock into her. “My queen. My fucking salvation.”

“Oh god, take me,” she sighs, moving with me, her pussy squeezing me so tight. “I can’t not have you. Please, baby.”

“Gonna come inside this cunt, brand you as mine.”

“Do it.”

“I love you so much.”

“Colton—god, I fucking love you.”

I pound into the side of her desk with my thighs, burying myself in her cunt again and again as we each chase our climax. In a few more thrusts, I’m groaning into her neck, heart racing as I come inside my queen. She trembles around me, swallowing her scream as her pussy clamps down so beautifully, coating my dick in her wet release.

I pull out, one hand flat on the desk as I catch my breath.

She settles on the desk, her hands brushing down my arms as she searches my face. “Are you okay?”

I laugh, tucking my wet dick back inside my shorts. I don’t want to clean her off me yet. Leaning forward, I kiss her parted lips. “I may have a weak heart, but pray to god it’s always strong enough to do that.”

She rolls her eyes, shimmying her panties back up her legs.

“Aren’t you gonna clean yourself up a little?”

She just shrugs. “No. I’m fine just as I am.” She slips off her desk and drops back into her chair, brushing her hair back from her face.

Grinning, I lower my hands down to the arms of her chair and spin her to face me. “Oh, so you’re just gonna sit here with my cum leaking out of your cunt, taking phone calls and ruling the hockey PR universe?”

She smiles right back. “Yep, pretty much.”

I shake my head and grab her around the middle, dragging her back onto the desk.

“Colton—oh my—I have to actually work today!”

“Thisiswork,” I tease, nipping her ear as I snake my hand back up under her skirt. “You’re gonna work for this dick, sweet girl. Now, turn around, and put your hands on the desk. We don’t stop until you’re dripping wet.”

Smiling, she slowly turns around, and puts her hands on the desk.

75

“Hello?” I set my stuff down in the laundry room, kicking off my shoes. “Cole? Pop?”

Poppy’s car is parked outside, but Cole’s SUV is gone. They said they were out running some errands, but that was hours ago. I figured they’d be home by now. I wander through the house, flipping on lights. I turn on the TV, flicking it off the Hallmark channel and back to SportsCenter. I go to grab a beer from the fridge, tossing my hat on the kitchen island.

Squish.

“Oh—what the—fuck—” I lift my foot. The sensation of stepping on a squished banana makes me want to gag. Only it’s not a squished banana. It’s brown squishy cat vomit.

“Fuck!” Hobbling on one foot, I sling my entire leg into the sink and jerk the water on. “Are you fucking kidding me with this?”

I don’t care what Poppy says, that cat is a menace. The thing weighs like half a pound, and yet she eats, shits, and pukes more than a goddamn rookie. And she destroys everything—shoelaces, charging cords, headphone wires. Funny how she only seems to target me and my shit.

But Poppy just fawns over her, taking her everywhere. She has this sweater she wears around the house, and she puts that damn kitten in her pocket. She talks to it all day. You’d think they had a bond like that kid with E.T.

I rinse my foot off. Then I’m climbing out of the damn sink to look at the mess on the floor. Grumbling, I jerk a few paper towels off the roll and wipe up the puke, trying not to gag as I toss it in the trash. “Fucking hell,” I mutter, slamming the trash door shut.

Good mood soured, I glance around suspiciously. Usually, thelittle shit likes to appear just in time to watch me clean up one of her messes.

Nothing.

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