Home > I Pucking Love You (The Copper Valley Thrusters #5)(50)

I Pucking Love You (The Copper Valley Thrusters #5)(50)
Author: Pippa Grant

“He’s not broken.”

I swallow hard and reach for control before her easy touch sends me over the edge and ruins this for both of us. “He was. But he likes you.”

And that’s all I have to say about that.

So I drop back down to claim all the kisses, my hands roaming, her fingers exploring, her legs hooking behind my back again.

I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to scare her. I don’t want to say something I’ll regret. I don’t want to scare me.

I want to show.

I want to show her she’s worthy. And beautiful. And sexy.

The Muffy I saw in Richmond? Haunted, hesitant, and hiding?

I want that Muffy to fade into the background behind a Muffy who knows she’s queen of the world, and who owns it.

And if I have to use sex to give her that confidence, I’m willing to make that sacrifice.

“I shouldn’t still be this horny,” she gasps when I move my lips to her neck.

“Yes, you should. I’m a sexy beast.”

God, her laugh is better than the crowd going wild over a slapshot buzzer beater. “And so modest. You know that turns me on.”

“You turn me on.”

“Why?”

I lift my head.

She’s still panting, swollen lips parted, eyes dark, but there’s a serious question in them.

Why am I attractive?

I should be furious at the world for making her doubt herself, but instead, there’s a selfish joy that I get to be the one who sees it. That I get to be the one to help her see it.

“Because you’re strong.” I squeeze her thigh. “You have the patience of a saint. You have drive.”

Her nose wrinkles. “Not that it—”

“You keep trying long after people who don’t make it to the top walk away. That’s sexy.” I kiss her collarbone. “And you do it because you believe in your clients in ways no one else does. You know it’s hard. You know you’re fighting an uphill battle. And you stick with it for them. That’s fucking sexy too.”

“Or crazy.”

“I like crazy.” I lift my head to look her straight in the eye, lining my cock up with her wet core. “And you’re gorgeous too.”

That nose wrinkle is getting on my nerves.

“No—” she starts.

“Your eyes have captivated me from the first moment I saw you.”

She sucks in a surprised breath, and I inch into her, her swollen, hot folds welcoming my cock.

“Tell me more,” she whispers.

“When you wear your hair braided, I want to grab them and wrap them around my hands and hold on while I kiss you.”

“Kinky.” She tilts her hips, taking me deeper, and christ, she’s heaven.

Her pussy is where my cock wants to go in the afterlife. And every day before.

“You have the cutest ears I’ve ever seen.”

She laughs, tightening her walls around me, and I go cross-eyed.

“And you have a magic pussy.”

I thrust the rest of the way inside her. She gasps and arches into me, head back, hair spilled all over my pillow, looking every bit the goddess that she is. “Oh, god, you feel good.”

“You’re fucking perfect, Muffy.”

And you’re mine.

I pump my hips, slowly, watching every shift in her expression, looking for the right angle to make her lose her mind while my cock strains and my balls ache from holding myself back, but I don’t care.

I’m trapped in her gaze, wanting to kiss her but not wanting to break this spell.

This isn’t sex.

It’s more.

“There,” Muffy gasps as her eyes slide closed, her hands squeezing my shoulders, her hot, slick channel squeezing my dick. “More there.”

I’m sweating. Every thrust, every time she grinds her hips against mine, every time she tightens her walls around me or gasps my name or tells me what she wants, it all has me on the brink of blowing my load. The dam’s near bursting.

But she comes first.

She comes first.

She has one foot on the bed, her knee up, the other leg wrapped around my hips, angling herself while I slam into her to gasps of yes and there and more.

I’m holding her hand to the bed, our fingers entwined, the pit of my stomach cramping from the effort of holding back while she writhes under me, chanting my name. “Oh, god, Tyler, I’m coming.”

“Look at me,” I order.

Her eyes fly open as her walls clench around me so tight that dots dance in my vision, and I’m coming so fast and furious that all I can do is hold myself deep inside her, straining into the waves of release. “Muffy. Fuck. Fuck. So good.”

“Can’t… control…” she gasps.

“Don’t. Let go.”

Fuck.

I’m lost.

Tumbling into oblivion with Muffy.

But it’s safe and warm in her eyes. Happy. Full of wonder. Glorious.

Exquisitely perfect.

She squeezes my hand and sags back into the mattress, her pussy letting go of its grip on my cock. I strain into one last spasm, and then I’m spent too, collapsing on top of her.

“So it is possible.” Her breath tickles my ear, and I’m suddenly chuckling.

High five to Mr. Wonder Cock.

We did it.

I shift so I’m not completely squishing her, unable to keep myself from kissing her jaw, her neck, her ear. “You’re a goddess.”

“Can we do that again?”

“Yes.”

“Today? Or do you need some time to recover? Like a week or something?”

I lift my head.

She’s grinning.

She knows I don’t need a week.

But Muffy teasing me while she’s naked and satisfied in my bed?

I’m good with that.

I’m perfect with that.

I don’t know what it means for tomorrow, or next week, or next month, but today?

Now? In this moment?

I’ve never felt more at home.

 

 

31

 

 

Muffy

 

Tyler gives good shower.

He’s shampooing my hair, his body slick against mine, his fingers massaging my scalp, steam rising all around us and jets shooting out of the walls at all angles to keep us both warm. His lovely cock isn’t hard, but it isn’t soft either—it’s like he has the same body organ hangover that my pampered pussy is dealing with.

How can my vagina feel so very satisfied, so very tired, so very overstimulated, and so very eager to do it all again, all at the same time?

“Did your sisters teach you to do this?” I ask him as I arch into his touch.

He snorts. “Yes, Muffy. I shower with my sisters all the time.”

“I thought so. You strike me as the type.”

He leans left, and I get a face full of water from the overhead spout that he’s been blocking. But I’m still laughing as I sputter and spit suds out of my mouth.

I totally asked for that.

“Any more questions?” he asks.

“Ten thousand.”

His face relaxes into a smile. “Good.”

Rufus yowls on the other side of the shower glass. My bathroom back at Mom’s house has a tub with a shower curtain, and my cat is freaking out at seeing me naked and wet, which he doesn’t usually have to endure.

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