Page 110 of Puck Yes

“More,” I murmur.

Stefan pushes in gently, giving me time to adjust. I nod again. He sinks a little farther.

Pricks of pain flash in me, but they’re followed by tidal waves of pleasure. I feel both at the same time as I take a big, deep breath.

“Look at you,” Stefan murmurs. “So fucking beautiful. So fucking gorgeous.”

Their praise does its part. It opens me up even more. The hurt starts to ebb. My breath catches, coming up short as my body is stretched to the limit. I’m so full, and I don’t know if I can take it. But when Hayes moves a hand down my chest and plays with my nipple ring, I tremble, then gasp his name in a strangled cry.

Like that, Stefan fills me all the way, his cock nestled right against Hayes’s. And wow. This is us. This is what I want. The ache fades more, morphing into the first sparks of pure pleasure.

The man under me meets my gaze. “You’re so fucking good at taking us, Ivy.”

“You look so beautiful stretched like this,” the man above me says.

With their words and their touches, with their praise and their adoration, I relax completely, letting myself feel everything.

This pressure.

This new intensity.

These sensations.

Stefan starts to move faster, doing most of the work. With long, luxurious thrusts, he moves me against Hayes, controlling the three of us. With each pump, Hayes kisses me, pets my hair, coasts his hands over my body.

The uncomfortable sensations wash away. And I’m left with this brand-new bliss as Stefan drives us but I feel like they’re fucking me together.

It’s hard, yes. But it’s sexy. It’s freeing. It’s moving on from the past.

I don’t know how long we last because I lose myself to the slap of skin, the grunts of pleasure, the smell of sex, and the feeling of us.

Soon I’m not thinking about time or anything else but the insistent pleasure racing through me as Hayes plays with my nipples, squeezing and pinching, giving me the last piece that sends me soaring. This is the opposite of the golf course, where I couldn’t move. Where I had to be quiet. Here I do nothing but writhe and shout, groan and rock.

Here I don’t hide who I am, what I want, who I need.

As I give in to the pleasure, I break apart, shattering as they follow me, filling me up.

* * *

Sometime later, after we clean up, Hayes returns to the champagne and pours three flutes. We clink glasses, and it feels like a toast to a new and improvedus.

43

THOUGHT YOU MIGHT WANT TO SEE THIS

Stefan

I feel like a caged lion today.

Ironic since I’m out and about, the city at my feet, free to go anywhere. I wander past the Painted Ladies, snapping photos of the famous Victorian houses on my phone.

This time it is raining, like I’d wanted that night at the start of the season. It’s just not raining hard enough to stop me from pacing the city alone.

I stab the focus button, taking picture after picture, capturing the city in its waterlogged mood. As drops fall on my head, I stare hard at the glass, scrolling past the images I took. The screen is wet, though, and I can’t slide past them anymore.

I mutter a curse, stalking down the street, huffing out a breath, finally turning into the park across from me. The city is quiet today. The park mostly empty. That’s rare for a Sunday, but so is rain in California these days.

This suits my mood for Kana’sgame night. When Ivy asked me to go I told her I had dinner with a sponsor. That was a lie. I made up an excuse to evade the invite.

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