Page 15 of Revenge Puck

Her answer is a dare. “Then stop.”

She doesn’t pull away.

Neither do I.

A flip switches.

I sweep her up without warning, one arm under her thighs, the other firm around her back. She gasps, excited, hands flying to my shoulders, breathless laughter spilling out of her as I turn and carry her down the hall.

“Put me down, I’m too heav—” she starts.

“Shh,” I cut her off, already in motion. Already committed.

I don’t ask where the bedroom is, my body simply knows. Plus, the apartment is small enough to navigate without directions, and I move toward the one hallway.

The bedroom door is exactly where it should be. Her back hits the wall beside it with a soft thud as I set her down but don’t let go. I brace myself in front of her, caging her in, her chest rising and falling fast.

Wanting. Alive.

“This,” I say into her neck, lips brushing against the pulse in her throat. “This is the part where you tell me to fuck off and slow down.”

She swallows.

Lifts her chin.

Doesn’t tell me to fuck off.

Doesn’t tell me to slow down.

I hook my hands under her thighs and lift her higher. She gasps, legs instinctively wrapping around my waist, back pressed harder into the wall, hands clutching my shoulders.

I kiss her again—nothing tentative about it now.

Open-mouthed kisses. Hungry.

Tongue.

Teeth.

I nip at her lower lip, enough to elicit another breathless sound from her throat that goes straight to my spine. Our kisses are wet and sloppy, my hand moving from her ass to the hem of her shirt…

Then higher…

Skim beneath, palm brushing warm skin…

She arches into it, a soft inhale against my mouth that tells me she likes it.

Skin.

Heat.

I groan.

Too much and not enough, all at once.

I carry her into the bedroom, setting her down in the center of the bed then crawl onto the mattress, hands braced on either side of her, chest rising and falling.

Her hair is a mess.