Page 63 of Triple Pucked
The revelation hits me, making me shake.
D’Angelo straddles me. His tongue thrusts into my mouth, as he buries his fingers in my hair.
He kisses me long enough to steal my breath.
I’m lightheaded.
My lungs burn.
I don’t try and escape.
I would give him my last breath, as long as he wants to keep me.
Finally, when he pulls back all his cool is lost.
D’Angelo’s eyes are wild, as he grabs my chin. “I love differently, cucciolo. But that doesn’t mean I love you less. I may show Robyn my love in softer ways, but don’t you feel it in every tug on your hair, every time that I catch your gaze at practice and you know I am thinking of pushing you to your knees in the lockers and fucking your throat, and when I rest my hand on the back of your neck? Robyn and you aren’t the same people; our loves aren’t going to be the same. But don’t ever fucking doubt that I love you both.”
“I worship you both too.”
“You’d better,” D’Angelo snarls. “Now, keep your gaze fixed on the stars. You like to stargaze, don’t you? Someone called mecruel, but I’m being kind letting you have your hobby.”
There has to be a catch…
When I narrow my eyes, D’Angelo lowers his lips to my ear.
“Don’t look away from the stars no matter what,” he murmurs. “And don’t come.”
My eyes widen. “Fuck.”
I hear the snick of the sneaky bastard opening a bottle of lube. Then he’s pushing my legs apart.
I breath hard, as D’Angelo ghosts his fingers across my sensitive nipples, down my abs, and just skirting my throbbing cock.
I can’t stop myself uselessly humping my hips.
“I said, don’t come.” D’Angelo rubs his hand along my hip. “How close are you?”
I take a couple of breaths, attempting to calm down. “Close, but I’m okay.”
I let myself fall into the glorious sight of the tapestry of the stars, my escape. Except, this time D’Angelo is with me. His hands never leave me, tracing my body like it’s his own.
I am exposed, stripped bare in front of him and the universe.
When his cold, slicked fingers trace along the crack of my arse, I hiss in a breath.
I surrender further to the hazy sensation. My mind feels like it is cotton wool.
I hear the rustle of clothes, a zip, and the crinkle of a packet being opened.
D’Angelo sinks one finger into my arse, before crooking it. I keen, when he relentlessly rubs it across my prostate.
The head of my cock glistens with precum.
“F-fuck, I’m going to come.” My back bows.
“You’re not.” D’Angelo grabs my cock, squeezing its base. “Aren’t the stars pretty tonight? You’re not coming until I’m inside you, understood?”
“Yes, Sir.” Tears trickle from my eyes in frustration.
