Page 74 of Revenge Puck

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmurs against my neck. “Like a fucking angel.”

He’s told me I’m pretty before, but the way he’s saying it now feels different, as if my hair and bows and pale skin are the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, and he’s as excited to slide inside me as I am to invite him in.

My heart pounds.

He’s speaking as if I’m his fantasy.

My legs fall open without hesitation, inviting him closer, needing him closer. There’s nothing coy about it. No pretending.I want him. I want the weight of him, the stretch of him, the connection of it.

Aaron drops his head into my neck, breathing hard, his control slipping.

He exhales and reaches to the side, arm stretching toward the bedside table. The drawer sticks for half a second before he yanks it open, rummaging without breaking eye contact.

Tears the condom packet open, using his teeth—something I’ve only seen done in the movies—foil crinkling in the quiet room.

I watch as he leans back on his haunches to slide it over his cock, down the shaft. Then he moves back over me, the mattress dipping beneath his weight, caging me in again, broad shoulders bracketing my body, his warmth covering mine.

Aaron kisses my neck.

Teeth graze lightly beneath my ear before he soothes the spot with his tongue…

I have never been so aware of my own body.

Breathlessly, I wait for him to line himself up, gripping his own dick and teasing me with the tip of it, dragging it back and forth slowly.

Oh god…

I gasp when he inches forward.

The first press of him makes my back arch, a startled, needy sound escaping my throat before I can swallow it down. He stills immediately, forehead dropping to mine, breathing hard.

“Easy,” he murmurs, voice strained but controlled.

My hands slide up into his hair, anchoring him there. I don’t want easy. I want this. I want him.

“I’m okay,” I whisper, though I’m trembling.

He moves again—slow, careful, watching my face like it matters more than anything. The stretch, the fullness, theheat—it steals the air from my lungs. It’s intense. Almost overwhelming.

And thrilling.

My nails drag down his back as he sinks deeper, inch by deliberate inch, until he’s fully pressed against me, both of us frozen for a second like the world has tilted on its axis.

Aaron exhales a low, almost disbelieving sound into my mouth.

“Holy fuck you feel good…” he groans. “So fucking good.”

The rawness in his voice sends another rush of heat through me. It’s not just physical—it’s the way he sounds undone. Like he wasn’t prepared for this either.

I tighten around him instinctively, and his reaction is immediate—his jaw clenching, breath catching.

“Do that again and I’ll come,” he warns.

A smile tugs at my lips despite how breathless I am.

He starts to move then, slow at first, testing, learning the rhythm of us. Every shift of his hips sends a ripple through my body, my head falling back into the pillow as sensation builds again—different from before.

Deeper.