Pucked Under Page 41

Twenty minutes later, I get another picture. I hide my phone under the table, half expecting it to be Lily dressed up in one of her matching bra and undie sets. It’s not. This time it’s that roll of red ribbon. I’m instantly hard. Harder than I would be if she’d sent me a semi-nude picture.

My response is brief and to the point:

 

Leaving now. Home in 15.

 

Hers is just as succinct:

 

ready 4u.

 

I leave my beer, say a quick round of goodbyes, and hop in my truck. I don’t drive the speed limit home. I don’t even try, actually. I run two stale yellows and almost forget to put the truck in park before I get out. I fumble with the lock code—I’m still getting used to the new one—throw open the door, and there she is.

“Holy mother,” I groan as I take in the sight before me. I’m quick to step inside and close the door, so no one accidentally gets a glimpse of my gift-wrapped girlfriend. This isn’t like the time she answered the door with a bow around her neck. She has that now, too, but this is so, so much better.

She’s made quite an effort this time. A thick band of ribbon winds across her chest, covering her nipples. Another piece is threaded between her thighs, somehow attached to the one wrapped around her chest, and all tied up with a pretty red bow in the center. Another wide piece of ribbon is wrapped around her throat with a second bow, and there are also bows on either hip.

Lily fingers the ribbon at her neck. “Did you know we missed an important anniversary earlier this month?”

I mentally scroll through all our important dates. I’m usually good with this kind of thing. Her birthday is in the spring, so I haven’t missed it. Mine is December, so it’s still a ways off. We officially started dating in January, and the first time I gave her an orgasm was in August, at Waters’ Ontario cottage.

She takes a slow step toward me. She’s wearing heels. She almost never wears heels. And she has lipstick on. It’s red to match the bow. “Want a hint?”

I nod. I don’t think I actually have words right now.

“What happened in September last year?” She grabs my belt buckle and pulls it from the clasp.

“September of last year?”

She pops the button on my pants. The way she’s biting her lip and palming me through my pants makes it hard to think.

“There was a party…” She drags the zipper down. “You were wearing these underwear, too. Except they were in much better shape then. There’s a hole here; did you know that?”

“Huh?” I’m too busy thinking about all the ways I’m going to make her come, and how I want to hook my fingers under that ribbon around her throat and hold onto it while I fuck orgasms out of her. I seriously don’t know why it winds me up the way it does.

She sticks her pinkie in the tiny hole near the fly flap, drawing my attention back down to her hand on my crotch.

“Hey! Don’t do that. You’ll make it bigger.” I pin her wrists to her sides.

“Did your teammates see these?”

“So what if they did? They don’t care how big my dick is.”

Lily giggles. “I guess you have a point. But these are probably ready for the trash.”

“They’re my favorite.”

“I thought I was your favorite.”

“You’re my favorite person; these are my favorite ball huggers.”

“I see.”

I lean in for a kiss. I’m not sure what the red lipstick is about; once we get started, it’s going to end up smeared all over her face. And mine. I’m actually fine with that.

She turns her head to the side, giving me her cheek. “You still haven’t guessed what we’re celebrating. You don’t get to unwrap me until you do.”

“Oh, no?” I kiss along the edge of ribbon at her throat. “I better guess right then, huh?”

She bats her lashes. “You’ll get to pull a bow if you do.”

“Wow. That sounds pretty damn awesome. So last September…” I let go of her hands and slip a finger under the ribbon running vertically down her torso. I stop just above her pussy. “…was Waters’ engagement party.” I reverse my path, then trace the edge of the ribbon from the center to the right, and back the other way. Lily shivers. “That was the first time I ever got inside you.”

“It was.”

I kiss her shoulder. “I wanted to take you back to my place and keep you all weekend.”

She angles her head to the side, and I follow the ribbon all the way to her neck. “I wanted that, too.”

“I was already way more into you than I should’ve been for something that was supposed to be all casual.”

She runs her fingers through my hair. “I remember thinking it was a good thing you couldn’t take me out for dinner.”

I back up so I can see her face. “Why was that?”

“Because it would’ve felt like a date, and I knew it wasn’t supposed to be.” Lily fingers the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head.

“I was so fucking stupid.”

“Not stupid. Maybe a little clueless, but then so was I.” She kisses the center of my chest, leaving a red lip print.

Lily pushes, and I take a step back, then another, and I hit the wall behind me. She drops into a crouch, her face level with my crotch. Her grin is wicked as she pulls my pants and boxer briefs over my hips, setting my dick free. She kisses the tip, leaving another red lip print. Without using her hands, she kisses her way down the shaft.

And now I get why the red lipstick—every kiss leaves another print. When I pull my phone out and quirk a brow in question, Lily grins.

“I can get the digital camera if you’d prefer.” She’s mostly forgiven me for the lost-phone scare.

“We’re good.”

She licks the tip when I snap the first pic, and then engulfs the head. She doesn’t touch me with anything but her mouth, which drives me fucking crazy. When I warn her I’m about to come, she takes me deeper and keeps her eyes on mine.

When she’s done, her lipstick has worn off, and her lips are puffy. I help her up, and she takes my hand, leading me to our bedroom, which is a really great idea. There’s a good chance I’m going to fuck fifty damn orgasms out of her tonight, and a bed is the safest, least potentially bruising place for that to go down.

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