Page 17 of Puck Me, Valentine
So, I turn the tables.
I reach down, my fingers trembling but determined, and thrust my hand forward to find the heavy, rock-hard length of him.
Devlin lets out a stunned, rasping breath that hitches in his throat.
I feel a dizzying surge of delight—the fact that my touch, my clumsy, inexperienced touch, can have such an effect on the guy like him is intoxicating.
I squeeze him harder through his pants, my heart hammering against my ribs. In a fit of reckless passion, I press my lips against the rough stubble on his chin, kissing my way along his jawline, breathing in the scent of his sweat.
Devlin swears incessantly under his breath, leaning his head back against the wall. The sound of his dirty words makes my blood boil.
I’m hungry for him in a way that feels bottomless. My fingers fumbled with the button of his jeans, determined to get inside.
“Do you even realize what you’re doing?” Devlin asks, the words sounding like a physical struggle for him to eject.
“I just want… I need to get my hand on you,” I whisper.
My face is burning. I’ve never been this bold, this shameless. But the need to feel him—really feel him—is a fever.
I crave the sensation of his skin against mine like I’m dying of thirst and he’s the only well for miles.
“There’ll be no turning back after this, Val,” Devlin whispers. His tone is strangely drawn-out, heavy with a warning I’m too far gone to heed.
He forces me to meet his eyes, and the intensity in his dark gaze is enough to melt my bones.
Before I can blink, his mouth devours mine again. He presses me firmly against the wall, one hand keeping me pinned while the other shoves his jeans down just enough.
He pulls himself out and immediately guides my hand to the source of the heat.
My breath hitches as my fingers close around his bare, throbbing cock.
He’s huge, the skin velvety and hot, the weight of him staggering. Euphoria surges through me, bright and blinding.
I stroke him—clumsy, awkward, and far too fast—but I don’t care. I want to explore every inch, to learn the texture of him.
But I don’t get the chance. Within seconds, Devlin’s body goes rigid. He lets out a low growl into my mouth, his grip on my shoulder tightening painfully, and he comes in my palm.
“Val,” he gasps, his forehead dropping onto my shoulder as he pants. “Val.”
A rush of amazing joy floods my chest, so intense I feel like I’m the one who just reached a peak.
Even though my own balls are aching, the sheer intimacy of having him come for me is enough to make my head spin. I can’t believe it. The star of the hockey team, the most intimidating student on campus, and he only needed a few touches from me?
“I wanted to feel you,” I murmur, the words spilling out before I can stop them. “To find out what it would be like. I’ve never…”
I trail off, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid. My face, already hot, reaches a new level of crimson.Why am I talking?Why do I keep laying myself bare just so he can watch me crumble? Every word is just a new way to humiliate myself in front of him.
“I didn’t expect that reaction,” I try to say, attempting to salvage some dignity.
Devlin suddenly looks up. The haze of pleasure has vanished. For some reason, his eyes look alien now. Cold. Almost glassy.
A surge of bitter panic hits me in the stomach.
Here it comes, a voice in my head whispers.Get ready, dreamer. Here’s the part where he reminds you how pathetic you are.
“As I asked before,” Devlin says, his voice hollow and chilling, though I can hear the rage vibrating just beneath the surface. “Do you really know exactly what you’re doing? Because as you can see, it doesn’t take much to persuade you into things you don’t even understand.”
He straightens up, adjusting his clothes with clinical precision while I stand there with my hand still sticky, trembling like a leaf.
