Page 42 of Puck'N Enemy
Dylan’s eyes glaze over with emotion. He doesn’t say a word but wraps his arms around my neck, pulling me in for another kiss.
A coil of heat spreads through my core, making my cock harden with need.
“Let me make you feel good,” Dylan whispers, breaking away. Pressing on my chest, he makes me get off him. His green eyes heat up with lust as he shifts closer to me and starts unbuttoning my shirt.
Staying quiet, I curiously allow him to take my trousers off next.
When both our clothes are all gone, Dylan places a hand on my chest and makes me lie down. Getting on top of me, he captures my lips in a searing kiss.
Our tongues dance together in a frenzy, making fire course through my veins, burning the exhaustion I’d been feeling earlier. Dylan’s hot mouth slides down my chin, leaving a trail of kisses down my neck and chest.
“Dyl,” I groan, feeling the press of his velvety lips on a spot under my left rib cage.
“Does this still hurt?” he whispers, caressing an old scar with a reverent look in his eyes.
For a moment, I don’t understand why he’s asking me that. Both our bodies are peppered with old scars we got while playing hockey. Why is he so obsessed with some faded mark on my skin?
With a start, I realize he’s talking about the scars he gave me. A shuddering breath escapes my lips as the awful memory of the night he hurt me rises within my mind.
But instead of feeling hurt and angry, I feel relief.
Dylan is back in my arms. Despite the misunderstandings, nothing has changed between us. Years have passed by but our feelings for each other are still as strong as ever.
With a sudden move, I close my legs around his hips and buck underneath him, bringing him crashing down on the bed.
“Logan,” he gasps, panting hard. Dylan is back on his stomach, his face pressed to a pillow. Straddling his thighs, I loom over him.
Dylan’s pale, round ass is smooth and full, the taut skin lit up by the warm glow of the bedside lamp. Keeping him pressed down, I grab two handfuls and lean down to suck up a mark on one creamy cheek before smacking it hard.
Dylan moans loudly. “I’m trying to be good,” he says in a ragged voice. “Do you have to punish me like this?”
“I still want to do this to you,” I say, smacking his ass again and watching the mounds jiggle.
He groans. “Logan...”
Smirking, I lean down to trail a line of kisses along his spine. His body shivers with each press of my lips.
My lips twist in a grin. Dylan is always so responsive, his reactions are enough to make me go hard.
“I want you right now,” I murmur against a cheek.
He turns around and gazes at me with a stricken look in his beautiful eyes. “I don’t have condoms and stuff,” he mumbles.
“When has that ever stopped me?” I growl.
Another moan escapes me.
Moving over to the bedside cabinet, I pull open the drawers. Apart from pain meds, I find a tube of lube there.
A chuckle escapes me. I knew Dylan would hide it here.
“Look what I found,” I say, holding up the nearly tube.
“No,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Didn’t you just say you wanted to make me feel good?”
“Yeah, but I was thinking of something more innocent.”
