Page 33 of Wilder Puck
Ryan rolls to his side and puts an arm over me. “So, again, I’m a ten.”
The tone of his voice is clearly joking, but I pretend to take him seriously. “Your ego just made you drop a few notches.”
He keeps his grip on me, pulling me closer. “No, because I think Baddie Addie just admitted that I’m a ten in bed.”
My eyelids flutter until I glare at him. “No, it’s just very clear to me why you only have missionary sex. Why would anyone want to switch things up when it’s likethat?”
He leans up on his elbow with a smirk. “Are you serious?”
“What?” I ask, looking up at his smile. “Oh, please.” I place my hand on his face and push him gently.
“You mean to say that it was good?”
I chuckle, starting to feel worried about his confidence. “Didyounot enjoy that?”
He nods with a proud expression. “I definitely enjoyed it. That with you was different than with anyone else.”
My stomach sinks, and the instant smile on my face is burning the heck out of my cheeks. I cover my face with my hands, trying to hide it.
He grabs my hands and says, “Are you okay?”
I hold them in place, but he forces them away from my face. Now my body is curling into a ball because I don’t want him to see how hard I’m blushing. I end up on top of him, laughing my head off. My face is so red, I can feel the heat internally and externally.
He laughs under me, and I think tears are accidentally escaping my eyes from the laughing.
“Hey,” he says, finally giving up. “I would love vanilla if it was like that every time.”
“Me too,” I mutter, rolling off of him.
He says, “Okay. That feedback helps, I think. Anything else?”
“Yeah, I mean the licking is a bit much,” I tease.
His eyes dart to mine. “Too much?”
I nod because I don’t want him licking anyone else like that ever again. “Yeah, and the finger play… that’s a bit much too, Wilder.”
“You have a lot to say now, don’t you?” he jokes, hitting my foot with his.
I raise my eyebrows, staring at him without a shirt on.I sure do.
“Well, you could use some advice too,” he says.
My stomach fills with butterflies and my vision clouds with stars. The anxiety ripping through my body right now is suffocating, so I sit up.
He starts, “You could–”
I clear my throat. “If you’re about to tell me that I could move my hips more, or moan louder, or if you say that–”
“I just want your hands on me.”
I glance down at his body, pretty sure I couldn’t remove my hands from him at all. “Oh, okay. That’s easy.”
“The moaning, the moving hips…” he trips over his words. “It’s good. It is really –– I mean you’re good, Ads.” His eyes quickly glance over my body.
Now we’re awkwardly staring at each other across the bed.
“Okay,” he says, breaking the silence. He grabs his shirt and puts it on as I walk out of his room. He walks out after me and offers to cook me something to eat.
