Page 45 of Puck Yes

I don’t even know how I’m standing, especially when Hayes says to Stefan, “Why don’t you do it?”

I’m giddy with anticipation as Stefan rises, heads over to me, grabs my hands, and lifts them over my head. Gripping my wrists together, he presses them to the wood behind me. In a chapel, after midnight, in the city of sin, he puts me in position to be finger fucked by his friend. But Hayes doesn’t slide a hand into my panties right away. Instead, he grazes the side of my neck with his fingers, then coasts them over my throat, then travels to the top of my breasts.

Hayes has less than five minutes, but he’s taking his sweet-ass time while Stefan gently pushes waves of hair from my neck and whispers in my ear, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. He’ll get you there.” Stefan dusts a feather-light kiss to the shell of my ear before he lets go of my hands. “Just keep her hands up, Hayes. I need a better view.”

While Hayes takes over, Stefan retreats to his chair, straddling it once more. My brain is scrambling, and I’m breathing hard as Hayes pins my wrists with one hand and uses the other to travel down my chest again, palming one breast this time.

With a glint in his eyes, he flicks the barbell through the fabric of my dress.

I moan. Or maybe I’m babbling. Whatever noises I can make, I’m making them as he pinches my piercing, his smile so full of swagger and something else too—a dirty kind of joy. Like a man opening a naughty gift left under the tree at Christmas.

“Bet her panties are soaked now,” Stefan says with filthy delight.

“I should check,” Hayes remarks, offhand, then slides thick, confident fingers into my panties and across my slickness. I groan, arching into him.

“She’s so fucking turned on,” Hayes tells his friend as he strokes my wet pussy.

With a salacious moan, I arch my back, rock into his hand.

“Do more of that,” Stefan urges Hayes. “She likes it.”

“Because she loves being watched,” Hayes says, and I feel unlocked.

“I do,” I say, closing my eyes as pleasure crashes over me.

“Nope,” Stefan orders. “Eyes on us.”

A shudder rolls through me as I open my eyes. I’m unsure where to look. Hayes? Stefan? I don’t know what to do with this assault of pleasure. It’s slamming into me everywhere. My mind, my body.

Hayes strokes me and I’m so slick, so close. My nerve endings fray and I’m dying for release. “Yes, that’s it. You’ve hit the spot,” Stefan says.

“You think so?”

“She’s a fucking mess. It’s beautiful. You want to come, sweetheart?” Stefan asks me.

“Yes,” I beg.

“Hayes, finish her.”

Hayes cocks his head, regards me like he’s just not sure he’s going to follow the captain’s orders. “Not until you show me how well you take direction, Ivy.”

Eager to please, desperate to come, I ask, “What do you want me to do?”

Hayes stares at my mouth, lips quirked in a cocky grin as he fucks me with his fingers till I’m panting again. He lets go of my wrists, grabs the end of his tie, and raises it to my mouth. “Bite down on this.”

He shoves the silk between my lips all while he strokes my clit.

“Now, shut the fuck up and come like a good dirty girl,” he says.

I bite down. The pleasure is so intense I’m afraid I can’t keep my eyes open, but I want to watch…Stefan. His hands are curled around the back of the chair, his knuckles white, and his gaze locked on me. “That’s right, sweetheart. Eyes on me when you come,” Stefan says.

Hayes strokes faster, and I can’t speak. I can only scream silently against the fabric, rocking into his talented hand, seeing stars as an orgasm seizes my body.

When my knees buckle, my temporary husband catches me, holds me steady, then gently takes the tie from my mouth. I tremble in his arms for long, delirious seconds, my world still spiraling away.

When at last I can focus, Hayes says, “To answer your question…I like your lipstick.”

The man I married presses a tender kiss to my mouth. When he breaks it, he glances down at me. I’m a mess—the skirt of my dress hiked up, panties twisted, hair likely wild.

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