Suddenly his fingers were tugging at my hair, pulling out the braid as my hair fell around my shoulders. I opened my mouth and took him back inside, savoring the taste. No matter what else happened tomorrow, in that moment Puck Redhouse belonged to me, and me alone.

PUCK

Mouth or cunt? Fuck, I couldn’t decide which I loved more. I’d learned something, though—no matter where I found myself inside Becca’s body, I wanted to stay there forever. Was definitely throwing out those fuckin’ jeans of hers tomorrow, though. Doesn’t matter how fuckable a woman looks in a pair of pants if you can’t get them off when it’s time to tap ass.

Becca’s tongue traced the bottom of my cock as her fingers worked my nuts. She kept that up I’d be coming soon. Just like that, I made my decision.

Cunt.

Tugging on her hair I pulled free, then pulled her to stand in front of me. A satisfied smile curved that sweet mouth of hers. My hands dropped to her waist, fumbling with her jeans.

“Get those things down,” I growled, full of frustrated need. Her eyes widened.

“I thought . . . ?”

“Pull down your fucking pants,” I repeated, reaching down to grab my cock. “I want in. Now.”

Desire darkened her expression. In the distance I heard shouting, but I didn’t give a flying fuck what might be happening at the party. Becca reached for her pants, unzipping them and shimmying them to her hips with a twitch of her butt.

“Shit, I have these boots on . . .”

I caught her shoulders and turned her, pushing her down across the table. Her hands went out as she caught her weight. Then my cock was poking her ass. Memories hit me—how hot she’d been, how tight. I really, really wanted to get back inside there. Her body stiffened, and I rubbed her hip then reached between us to find her cunt, slick and sweet.

Yeah, she was ready.

Somehow I managed to hold off long enough to slide on a condom. Needed to get her on the Pill ASAP—riding her bareback the other night had been incredible. Wanted her like that all the time. The condom snapped into place and then I slid home, filling her with one hard thrust of my hips. Becca squealed and I caught her shoulders, controlling every move of her body.

It belonged to me now.

I started out with strong, steady strokes, although I couldn’t go as deep as usual. Her pants pinned her legs together awkwardly. Somehow it still worked—she actually squeezed me harder this way. Every movement carried me closer, come pooling in my balls. I tensed, stopping for a second because I wasn’t ready to blow just yet.

“Puck . . .” Becca whispered as her body clenched hard on me. I think my heart stopped until she released me, then she did it again, wiggling her hips back at me. “Fuck me, babe. I’m really close.”

I wrapped a handful of hair around one wrist and jerked her head back, slamming home. My other hand caught her waist, holding her tight enough I’d probably leave marks. Becca twisted, gasping every time I filled her and whimpering when I pulled out again.

That’s when I really let go.

In the distance music played. People shouted and laughed and I’m sure some of them were watching us. I didn’t care. My entire world had narrowed down to the sight of her ass bucking against my dick, her arms braced on the table as I plowed her harder and harder. Then she squealed and exploded around me, pussy clenching so fucking hard it hurt. I pushed through, impossibly close to my own release.

It hit. Molten lava blew out of my balls as my vision blacked and faded. I was floating in space for an instant, waiting for reality to come back into focus.

Damn. Damn.

Reaching down to catch the condom, I pulled slowly free, wishing I could just stay planted there forever. Becca had collapsed across the table, her back heaving as she panted. Her ass taunted me, and despite the fact that I’d just come hard I wanted her again, right there.

I’d hurt her the first time. Now I had to teach her how much it didn’t have to hurt. Not tonight, unfortunately . . . I also wanted to come all over her face. Into that hair, too. Rub it in and mark her forever.

Christ, I needed a list or something.

Slowly Becca pushed herself up, turning to look at me. Beautiful girl. Bright cheeks, eyes at half-mast. Hair flying everywhere . . .

I wanted to tattoo my name on her forehead. I’d kill any man who tried to touch her. No joke.

“Not bad,” she managed to say. Then she giggled and I knew I was well and truly fucked. I’d never recover from this. Hell, I didn’t even want to.

Becca Jones might be my property in the eyes of the club, but the reality was that she owned me and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it.

TWELVE

BECCA

Way too many thoughts raced through my head as we returned to the party. I kept waiting for the fear to crash back in. I should be worrying about Puck sharing me. Who I’d go with next. How much they’d make me drink, or whether I’d have to do any drugs . . .

Instead my pants felt a little twitchy, and I had a couple scrapes on my stomach. Possibly a sliver. Otherwise I was good.

Great.

Happy.

I kept breaking out in more giggles every time I thought about what we’d just done. Puck must’ve thought I was super drunk, but I wasn’t drunk at all. Hardly even buzzed. Nope, all I could think about was the fact that I’d won.

Becca Jones had grown into someone who could have fun with her cute boyfriend—okay, probably not the right word for Puck, but you get the picture—at a party.