Silver Bastard
“Don’t look at me like that,” he growled. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you keep that shit up, I might.”
Then he had a condom out and on, his cock pushing at the entrance to my body. It happened so fast. Was I ready for him? Would he tear me open, hurt me? My body stiffened.
Puck didn’t even pause.
His cock bottomed out in an instant, stretching and filling me as I gasped, a mixture of pain and pleasure so intense it was its own kind of pain. Then his body covered mine, his hips grinding into me hard, like he needed friction but didn’t want to risk pulling out even a little.
Given how this pushed his pelvic bone into my clit, I wasn’t exactly complaining.
“More,” I gasped, clutching at his biceps with my fingers. Puck slammed into me, shoving me down into my worn, springy mattress, grunting with every stroke as if his life hung in the balance. Mine certainly seemed to hang suspended, desperate for the release only he could give me. Desire and need and tension spiraled through me like wild lightning, carrying me toward the finish line faster than should’ve been possible.
Puck caught my ankles, jerking them up onto his shoulders. The new angle changed everything, creating a leverage that sent him impossibly deeper into my body.
“Touch yourself,” he demanded tightly. “Get yourself off while I’m fucking you. I own this body now—show me what it can do.”
I obeyed breathlessly, rubbing my clit frantically. Never felt anything this good in my life. Puck’s eyes caught mine, holding my gaze captive as his cock tortured me. My orgasm hit with a rush and I screamed, body convulsing. He grinned savagely, then started pounding me so hard I knew walking might be a problem afterward.
I didn’t care.
Every stroke hit deep inside, my body flushed and sensitized until he felt twice his size. God in heaven . . . He’d said he owned me, and he did. My body recognized its master even if I didn’t. It wanted to please him, to obey and satisfy. Suddenly Puck came, body shuddering as I felt the throb of his cock deep within.
His hand caught my hair again, tilting my head for another savage kiss as the last of his seed filled me.
The sound of our panting filled the air.
Eventually he pulled free, tugging off the condom as he lowered his body across mine. I sighed. I’d never felt anything like this—not even close. Not even when he’d gone down on me in California, making me come for the first time.
“Nice,” he finally managed to say. “’Bout fucking time, too.”
I didn’t respond, because what the hell does a girl say after something like that? “Thanks a bunch” doesn’t quite cover this kind of situation. Instead of speaking, I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into my embrace. His weight covered me and we lay there, catching our breath.
“That was unexpected,” I finally said. Puck didn’t respond, just rolled to the side to lie next to me. I studied him, mesmerized by the lines of his face.
“I accept your apology,” he said finally. “Just in case you hadn’t picked up on that.”
I laughed.
“Yeah, I sort of figured.”
“We’ve played around long enough,” he continued. “Not a secret that I want you—seems to go both ways. It’s time.”
Time? I wondered that that meant. Oh God, I hope he meant time for more sex . . .
“I seem to remember you make fast recoveries,” I said, reaching down between us. His cock had never fully softened. The skin was silky and smooth between my fingers, and I felt the harder ridges beneath tighten.
“Let’s clear things up,” he said, his tone catching me off guard. “This isn’t a onetime thing. I’m claiming you, Becca. Already talked to the club about it—they know you’re mine.”
I stilled.
“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” I said slowly. “In fact, I’ve been thinking things through and decided I’m nowhere near ready for a relationship. The whole thing with my mom, and school—”
“We’ve been in a relationship for five years now,” Puck said, his voice hard. “It wasn’t normal, it wasn’t exclusive . . . Hell, I don’t know what the fuck it was, but we both know that’s the truth. Whatever’s between us, it’s been there since the first night we met.”
I studied his face, trying to decide if I bought into that theory. He’d been a constant in my life, that was for damned sure. But this relationship thing seemed a little overwhelming.
“Last night you weren’t even talking to me,” I replied, trying not to panic. “Then you show up here, fuck me, and say we’re in a relationship? I feel like I’m missing a chunk of the story.”
“You’re not a normal girl,” he said, his face softening. He reached over, catching a chunk of my hair and rubbing it between his fingers. “You grew up wrong and bad shit happened. I’m a part of that. I grew up wrong, too, although less bad shit happened to me. Here’s the thing—people like me don’t follow the same rules that everyone else does. I make my own rules, and I live life fast and hard enough that I don’t have time to fuck around once I find a good thing. And whatever else is going on here, you’re a good thing.”
“I want to be normal,” I whispered. “I’m not like you.”
“Sucks, but that’s reality,” he replied, leaning over to kiss me softly. The sensation of his lips brushing mine was distracting, and I felt him start to surround me again. His cock grew harder in my hand. My fingers traced his length longingly.