Pucking Sweet: An MMF Workplace Hockey Romance (Jacksonville Rays Book 3)
Pucking Sweet: Chapter 31

Poppy rolls onto her stomach for me. She’s stretched out naked on this bed, and I can’t look away. Her every curve is perfect—the tight roundness of her ass, the soft little hills of her breasts. One orgasm has her feeling loose and relaxed. I want to pull at least two more from her before I let her sleep.

She came apart so beautifully for me just now. And she tastes divine, soft and sweet, with just the perfect hint of feminine musk. It’s been two days since I last tasted her, since I last held her in my arms. The wanting her is shredding me apart. It was all I could do to not break speed limits just so I could get here by ten o’clock tonight. And I’ll have to go back to Orlando in the morning.

It’s not my mom’s fault she picked this week to move, but damn if the timing isn’t inconvenient. Instead of showering Poppy with affection, I’ve spent the last two days hooking up TVs and unpacking plates in my mom’s new lakeview condo.

But I’m not thinking about Orlando right now. No, my every thought is centered on the naked woman in the middle of this bed. She wants to be worshipped and adored? I’m about to show her the meaning of the words.

“Like this?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder as she gets to her hands and knees.

“Perfect.” I crawl onto the bed behind her, grabbing her little blue wand and the bottle of lube. I’m curious to know what other toys my Poppy might play with when I’m not here, but this will do for now. More than anything, I just need to be inside her again. I need to feel that hum of connection with her, soul to soul.

I pop the cap off the lube and squeeze some into my hand, working it down my shaft with a groan. I can’t even think about this woman without getting hard. It’s becoming a real problem. Hell, I was hard for half the drive up here. I had to turn on a true crime podcast just to try to get some goddamn relief.

Scooting closer, I smooth my lube-free hand over the rounded curve of her ass. She shivers at my touch, her hips moving reflexively as she backs into my hand, craving more contact. She’s so responsive. I think she might be physically needy, like me. Now that I know I can touch her, it’s gonna be damn hard for me to stop.

I snake my other hand between her thighs, flipping my palm up to run my lubed fingers through her wetness. “Are you ready for me?”

She drops down on a little moan, burying her face in the crook of her elbow. “Mhmm.” Her hair is down, tousled over her back, and her little asshole peeks out at me between her cheeks. We’re not going there tonight, but fuck if I haven’t already thought about how tight she’ll fit me.

I fist my cock at the base, guiding my tip between her legs. We both groan at the first slide of my shaft along her wet silk. “Fuck, you feel so good,” I say, reveling in the feel of doing this without a condom.

Even now, an alarm bell is dinging in my head that I should stop and put one on. Hockey players are read the riot act from an early age: no rubber, no ride. I can count on one hand the number of girlfriends I’ve taken bare. In fact, I can count it on half a hand. It’s a gift, and a sign of trust, and I won’t be squandering it. To feel her like this, to connect with her on this level after so long of dreaming and waiting—god, I’m already about to lose my load.

She presses those hips against me, seeking more, and I know she’s ready. I prod her entrance, replaceing the right angle. Her wet heat pulls me in as she pushes back, but I catch her, my hold firm on her hips. “Go slow,” I direct. “Let me stretch you out first.” I curl over her, kissing her shoulder. “I only ever want to bring you pleasure.”

She pushes up onto her hands, adjusting her hips as she sinks deeper on me. Once I’m halfway, I move my hand, letting it smooth over her ass and up the curve of her back until I’m bracing her by the neck. Heat spirals out from our shared point of connection. Heart racing, I move my hips, pumping deeper into her until she’s humming out another breathy moan.

“How’s that feel?”

“So good,” she says immediately. “Col, you feel so good.”

Okay, I thought her saying my full name with that lemon twist of a Southern accent sent me over the edge. But this is the second time she’s called me “Col” while I’ve been half a dick deep, and I’m living for that too. “I want my queen to take charge,” I say, brushing my other hand over her hip. “Sit back. Take as much of me as you want. Ride me. Show me how much you want my dick.”

She shifts her legs, widening her hips as she pushes against me on a soft moan. From this angle, I can hold her waist and watch as she takes me inside her tight cunt. Fuck, I’m not gonna last long.

“I want more,” she pants, rocking her hips harder against me. “Colton, please. I need more.”

I fold myself over top of her. Cupping her breasts with my hands, I haul her up and rock back, impaling her on my dick. She cries out, her hands slapping over mine on her breasts, head thrown back against my shoulder. I rock with her, feeling the hot glide of her pussy squeezing me tight.

“Yes—oh my god,” she pants. “Oh, right there.”

I grind up into her, holding the weight of her easily against me. Her hair is brushing my chest, and her nails dig into my forearms as her pussy clenches with her coming orgasm.

“Oh, I’m so close. Honey, don’t you dare stop—”

I let out a joyous laugh, sucking her neck, tasting her sweat with my tongue. She’s starting to tremble, her orgasm seconds from crashing into her. It’s gonna hit like a wave, sweeping us both under. My god, she’s exquisite like this. I can’t get enough.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a huge fan of PR Poppy too. But PR Poppy is a creature of rules and routine. She’s got impeccable fashion, polite manners, and an acute business savvy. She’s fierce and funny, and I could fall for her in a blink. I am falling for her.

But this woman in my arms? This wild thing? Sexy Poppy is uninhibited and raw, taking what she wants, begging for more. I don’t think she knows how beautiful she looks like this, how powerful, how desirable. I feel like I’m holding onto a beam of pure fucking sunlight. Her attention is life-giving. It’s restoring. With her, I am remade.

Snatching up her fancy blue wand, I turn it on and angle the vibrating head between her legs. The second it touches her sensitive clit, she cries out, her slick pussy clamping down on me.

“Fuck yes,” I pant, wrapping my arm around her chest to cup her other breast. I pull her up tight against me, her back to my front, and just hold her there, seated with me all the way inside her. Her body is ready to tip over that sweet edge. She’s shaking, pussy fluttering, eyes shut tight. “Come for me,” I growl in her ear. As I do, I press in hard with the wand, letting that vibrating head spark against her clit like a Roman candle.

Her mouth opens on a scream. It’s all I can do to hold onto her and keep the wand in place as she rocks against me, her orgasm bursting forth from her center and spiraling outward.

“Oh my god,” she whimpers as soon as she’s able to speak, her body going limp and breaking our connection.

I know she has one more in her, and I know I can get her there. I fall forward with her, letting her drop down to the mattress. I turn off the wand and toss it aside. She’s jelly as I roll her over, scooting her across the bed to make more room for myself between her knees.

Her arms go around me, clinging to me, desperate for my closeness. I give her a reassuring kiss, deep and seeking as her hands pull at my back, trying to make us share one skin again.

“Does my queen feel treasured?” I say against her lips.

She nods, eyes shut tight as she recovers her breath.

“Do you want more?”

She nods again.

“Do you want my cum?” I turn her head to kiss down her neck. “Do you want me to fill this sweet little cunt?”

“Yes,” she hums, spreading her legs beneath me to fit me in the cradle of her thighs.

I curl a hand around her leg, spreading her wider, and sink right back inside. Every inch of me slides in until I’m settled against her hips. Once I’m in, her hands on my shoulders relax, sated knowing we’re one again. Her eyes open as I rock into her. She gazes up at me with more clarity now, those blue eyes searching my face.

“What is it?” I say, kissing her chin.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmurs, her fingers brushing down my cheek and over my lips. She takes in my features like she’s trying to memorize them.

I imprint her to memory too. I want to always be able to picture her just like this—lips parted, the soft freckles of her cheeks not hidden by makeup, eyes bright with lust and longing. She’s timeless. God help me, she’s mine. I kiss the soft pads of her fingertips before she drops her arm over her head, arching back on the bed.

“Come again for me.”

“I can’t,” she whines.

“Yes, you can.” I’m so fucking close, and I want to feel her squeezing me as I shatter. “One more time. Come with me.”

“It’s too much. So full.”

I let go of her leg and cup her face instead, kissing her deep, luring her back to me. She meets my kisses, her arms going back around my neck. “Yes,” I pant, stroking down the column of her neck. “There she is. Stay with me, Poppy. My goddess, my fucking queen. Come with me. Look at me.”

She opens her eyes. They’re glassy with lust. I feel her starting to tighten around me again. I palm her breast, tweaking her nipple until she gasps, waking her up. “Baby, I’m gonna come,” I pant.

This has her clinging to me, her legs wrapping around my hips. “Don’t stop,” she squeals, her nails digging into my shoulders.

I can’t hold back my release for another second. I come on a shout, my hand dropping away from her breast and down to the bed as I thrust once, twice. She’s trembling, her pussy clenching around my cock as she comes with me, quietly this time, sacred, like a fucking prayer.

After a few more seconds, I pull out, rolling my weight to the side so I don’t crush her. She clings to me, her leg wrapping around my hip. We settle on the bed with my head tucked against her bare chest. I keep my arms around her, breathing in the softly floral smell of her heated skin.

A few minutes pass, but we stay just like this, entangled and unmoving. Slowly, she comes back to life, her hand stroking down my back. She sighs dreamily, tilting her face to kiss my forehead. “While the granola bakes, can we do that again?”

I snort a laugh, ducking my face down to kiss her breast, giving her nipple a little suck that has her moaning the first half of my name like a goddamn siren. I get the feeling now that I’m never going to survive her. Smiling, I press a promising kiss to her lips. “Yes, Poppy. I will gladly fuck you again.”

And again.

And again.