Page 61 of The Pucker and the Princess
She just nods in response, and another knot loosens in my chest. She wants there to be a next time. Even though I’m pretty sure I was clear that I want us to be together, to date, to be in a relationship, I’m not sure either of us actually agreed out loud that’s what this is. We just kinda said we were attracted to each other, started kissing, and now we’re here. But I’ll clear all that up later. Right now, I need to be inside Marissa more than I need my next breath.
I want to give her a minute to recover, but waiting is killing me.
Any hesitation I might’ve had is erased when she holds out a hand to me and whispers, “Come here.”
I slide into her embrace, gathering her body against mine, my cock settling against her wet pussy. My hips move almost of their own accord, rocking and thrusting against her, making her gasp again, and then I find the promised land. The head of my cock slips inside her, and I push forward slowly, both of us letting out soft sighs as I finally sink into her.
I hold still for a moment, needing a second to get a grip on myself because I’m already so close to coming. And no matter what we’ve both said about having all night and there being a next time, I’m not ready for this—our first time—to be over already.
She opens her eyes, her hands bracketing my jaw as she stares into my very soul. When she draws my mouth to hers, I’m lost. I can’t stop my hips from moving anymore, but I do my best to keep it slow, not ready to lose this moment prematurely.
But her teeth graze my lower lip, and that spurs me on, making me pick up the pace, my body one giant pulsingneed. I need her. I need to feel her, to hold her, to lose myself in her.
Her legs wrap around my waist, making me feel wanted, welcomed, desired, and I reach down to grip her ass, tilting her hips up a little, gratified by the moan she releases on my next thrust.
Good. I want this to be good for her too.
Every second, every caress, every stroke is intense pleasure, and I wish I could stay in this moment for eternity. But I’ll have to content myself with the fact that this won’t be a one-time thing.
My hips move in their own rhythm, my release too close to hold it off for much longer, and with Marissa’s moans and soft cries spurring me on, my body coils tight, preparing for release. And with one hard thrust after another, I grind into her, spilling myself inside her in one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had.
My whole body wants to go slack after my release, but I hold myself up on my forearms so I don’t crush her. She doesn’t seem to mind, though, wrapping her arms around me and holding me close despite my best efforts.
I ease down, letting more of my weight fall onto her, though not all of it, and she hums, the sound full of contentment. Pressing a kiss to her upper chest, just below her collarbone, I pull out and quickly get rid of the condom, wrapping it up and tossing it in the wastebasket so I can get back to Marissa.
She comes right to me, cuddling up with me once I get in the bed, her head on my shoulder and her arm across my chest. We lie there in silence for several moments. Her skin feels so right against mine, and I let my fingers stray up and down her arm.
Little by little, though, I notice tension drawing back into her muscles, and I’m worried that she’s about to run away and ignore my texts again. If one little kiss was enough to provoke that reaction, what’s full-blown sex going to cause? Maybe I did act weird after the kiss—I don’t remember being particularly weird, but she interpreted it that way at least—but I’m not acting weird now. Am I? Cuddling after sex is pretty standard, isn’t it?
Just as I’m about to say something, she finally does. “So, uh … I just—” She covers her face with her hand and shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I’m making this super awkward. But like I said before, fragile sense of self and all that, so I just want to make sure I’m reading things right.”
“We’re dating,” I pronounce. “You’re my girlfriend. I’m your boyfriend. You can tell people. Lord knows, I plan to.” As soon as the definitive list leaves my mouth, I second-guess myself and look down at her upturned face. “As long as that’s what you want. That’s what I want, though.”
She gives me a relieved smile. “Good. Yes. That’s what I want. But since it wasn’t explicitly stated before …”
I laugh softly as she trails off. “Well, it’s been explicitly stated now.”
“Good,” she whispers, pressing a light kiss to my chest.
“Good,” I echo.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Marissa
I endup spending the night at Dozer’s, not that we get a lot of sleep. We spend the night wrapped in a lazy, naked bubble of blankets and pillows, midnight snacks, talking, and touching, and kissing, and more.
The next morning, I’m a bit sore in the best way, and I poke out my lower lip when he announces he has to go in for morning skate. “The nice thing is that it’ll be easy for me to take you to your car,” he says after mimicking my pouty face and coming in for a kiss. “It’s a light workout day since we had a game last night. We can hang out more later, okay?”
I heave a faux put-upon sigh. “Fine. I guess I can deal with that.”
He chuckles. “You’ve been avoiding me for over a week now. I think you can handle a few hours to yourself.”
I wrinkle my nose at that reminder. “To be fair, I missed you the whole time.”
Pulling me close, he wraps his arms around my waist and drops a kiss on my nose. “I missed you too.” After one more kiss, he smacks my ass and lets me go, tossing me one of his sweatshirts to wear to pick up my car.
I don’t technically need it. It wouldn’t be difficult for me to pop down to my place and change before heading out, but I don’t. Instead, I just grin and pull on his sweatshirt. I’m swimming in it, but I like that it’s soft and faded from longterm use and that it smells like him. “Careful,” I warn. “You might not get this back.”
