Royally Pucked (The Copper Valley Thrusters Book 2)
Royally Pucked: Chapter 33

My entire body is limp with pleasure, but Manning is still rock-hard, his length pressed against my leg, and that just won’t do.

He kisses his way up my belly, pausing to lavish extra attention on my breasts, and ohmydog, his hands—his mouth—his thoroughness all leave me gasping for air with another desperate ache building in my clit.

“M-my turn,” I manage to gasp.

He lifts lazy eyes and a soft smile. “All of tonight is your turn, my lady,” he informs me.

“Good.” I wiggle beneath him and push him onto his back, keeping a hand, an arm, a leg against his body the entire time. “Because there’s something I need to see.”

“Ah. I’m to be measured?” he teases.

The dim light from his bedside lamp casts shadows on the cut grooves of his abdomen. I’d like to fingerpaint his chest, and I can’t resist stroking the hard cords in his arms.

“You’re to be admired,” I tell him.

I let my hands trail down his, and he captures my fingers to press them to his lips as we lie side-by-side. Because he’s a stubborn billy goat and won’t stay on his back.

“You’ll stay tonight?” he asks.

“That depends on your behavior.”

I push again, and he once more rolls to his back. I lean up and look down.

Because honestly, I haven’t gotten a good look yet.

“Does the lady approve?”

I wrap my hand around Manning’s thick length and stroke upward. It’s hot, silky skin over solid brass, his head engorged, and he hisses out a breath when my fist reaches the top and strokes back down to his base.

“So far, you’re getting a perfect score.”

I sit up and lean closer for inspection, biting my lower lip, and his dick twitches in my hand.

I lick my lips.

He groans and thrusts up into my grasp.

I cup his tight balls with my free hand and bend to taste the salty tip of him.

“Heaven above, Gracie,” he gasps.

I swirl my tongue about his head, still gripping and stroking him, and his grunts and moans become incoherent. He tangles his fingers in my hair, but before he can tug me away, I adjust my angle and take him all the way to the back of my throat, letting my tongue stroke and suckle the solid steel of his cock.

He’s so hard. So thick.

So mine.

All mine.

My clit aches. My pussy’s clenching on itself. I want him to come in my mouth, but I also want so badly to feel him inside me.

“Gracie,” he gasps again.

His hips buck.

I ride his cock with my mouth, in and out, sucking harder and deeper, until he moans and grips my hair tighter. “Next time, love,” he gasps. “I need inside you. Now.”

He pulls me off and has me on my belly before I can take a full breath, his body behind mine. “Is this okay, love?”

His cock rubs against the seam of my pussy, wet and ready, and I moan when he brushes my clit. “Oh, yes.”

He spreads my legs with his thigh, cradles my belly and urges my ass into the air, and his engorged crown presses at my entrance. “You’re so bloody perfect,” he tells me as he pushes inside. “So beautiful. So brilliant. So bright. So bloody perfect.”

My hips jerk and I spread my legs wider, taking him deeper until he pulls back, then thrusts in harder and higher. The desperate spiral of ecstasy is building deeper and tighter so far inside me, and with every thrust, he’s reaching closer and closer.

“Manning,” I gasp.

“Fucking perfect, Gracie. Perfectly mine.”

His.

Oh, dog, how I want to be his.

He pumps into me once more, and my body falls apart around him, my orgasm hitting hard and fast and white-hot. He groans and tightens his grip on my belly as I feel his release pulsing inside me, my pussy clenching around him, taking all of him, giving him all of me, pressing back into him while we come together.

I grip his hand while I ride wave after wave of pleasure. He bows his head to my back, still spasming, his breath coming fast.

I’m never letting go. I don’t want to ever have to let go.

When the final aftershocks pass, I flop onto the bed. He collapses beside me and pulls me into his arms.

“Never let go,” I whisper.

He kisses my forehead, my hair, my brow, while our breaths stutter and hearts beat in sync, surrounded by the heated scent of sex and satisfaction and desperation. “Never, Gracie. I shall never let go.”

I wrap my arms around him and pull him as close as I can, kissing him hard and long and deep.

Because this moment, here—us—is perfect.

And I don’t want morning to come.

Ever.