Pucking Wild Quotes

Life is beautiful and short, and you only get one. Live it on purpose.

I’m a girl of simple tastes. I like cheap wine and expensive cheese.

Hope. That word is dangerous. That word builds you up and tears you down, leaving nothing left but a charred and broken mess.

That is what Frederick is like. He’s part man, part fantasy. He gathers your wild imaginings about him, wraps them around himself like a garment. Until eventually he is a figure made mostly of the mystery you endowed him with yourself. And you don’t try to unravel it. Because you’re afraid that all you’d have left is a pair of brown eyes and a limp. And by that point, you’ve already given him so much.

This is for all the thirty-somethings trapped in marriages, friendships, and family dynamics you’ve outgrown. Set yourself free. Watch how you fly. Oh, and give pegging a try.

Every game has its Jacks,' she said, the sadness of it pulling down the elation of sudden understanding. 'The thing that acts as a wild card. It can't be counted on or predicted. A weapon, even. But he's in other places, too, isn't he? And do you know what else a Jack is, Puck?...I do.

And what would a guy like you do with one kiss from a girl like me?” “Savor it,” I reply. “Cherish it. Save it for a rainy day.

I see you, mun leijona. They see you too,” he adds, gesturing at Caleb and Jake. “You would brave any danger for those you love. Climb any mountain, leap from any clifftop. A love like yours is wild and dangerous. You need men who will not seek to harness you or break your spirit. You need men who will protect you. Who will provide a safe space for you to love as freely as your heart will allow. We are those men.

What's going on here?" Buck asks just as loudly, gesturing wildly with his giant, hairy knuckled hands. "I'm sucking his dick," I say sarcastically. Sometimes I wish my mouth didn't have a faulty connection to my brain allowing everything to come out unfiltered. Alex coughs, his fingers twitching on my hip, and Buck's face turns an unnatural shade of red. This is such an odd situation; the awkwardness causes me to continue to spew idiocy. "Fine, you got me. I wasn't sucking his dick. We were fucking each other's mouths with our tongues. This is otherwise referred to as kissing, but mouth fucking sounds way dirtier, so I'm gonna go with that.

Okay, Fuck her plans. I want to stay here. If I’m only getting this one night and this one date, I want to sit on the couch with her on my lap in that dress.

It’s the worst feeling in the world, not being seen…walking through life like a ghost.

am everything I need. I am enough just as I am. I am smart and driven. I’m kind. I’m passionate and funny and sexy as hell.

More distracting than the drop-dead gorgeous naked woman currently glistening like a sun goddess on the bench next to me?

You are a goddess, and you deserve to be worshipped and adored.

Life is beautiful. Life is short. Live it on purpose.

The deepwood is vanished in these islands -- much, indeed, had vanished before history began -- but we are still haunted by the idea of it. The deepwood flourishes in our architecture, art and above all in our literature. Unnumbered quests and voyages have taken place through and over the deepwood, and fairy tales and dream-plays have been staged in its glades and copses. Woods have been a place of inbetweenness, somewhere one might slip from one world to another, or one time to a former: in Kipling's story 'Puck of Pook's Hill,' it is by right of 'Oak and Ash and Thorn' that the children are granted their ability to voyage back into English history.

He wants me. He’s burning up with the need to touch me, please me. This is all inevitable, right? I blame Mercury. The Virgo and the Gemini, we were always meant to collide.

I’m thinking about how beautiful you looked with your face buried in my cunt. There’s nothing more powerful than a man on his knees, drawing forth the pleasure of his partner.

Do you really think I would ever look sideways at another woman when I have this goddess at my feet?

What can I say? I’m an extroverted introvert with truly impressive trust and abandonment issues.

I am the fire that forges the clay into something stronger.

Everyone else was there for the turtles. Ryan was there for me.

Come with me,” I pant, reeling her in closer. “My queen, my fucking goddess. Claim me. Take everything.

You’re a she-devil,” I say against her lips. “My goddess.” I give her a kiss. “My queen. You fucking own me.” I kiss her again. “Do anything, take anything. It’s yours.

This body. This woman with these perfect fucking curves. I want all of you. Every hour. Every day. No other woman compares to you. Fuck, you kill me, Tess. I can’t breathe when you look at me, and I die when you look away. Tell me I can have you.

He’s right, playing with toys is fun, and the orgasms we give each other are otherworldly, but this feels divine on a whole different level. This is connection. This is raw intimacy. Who knew good, old-fashioned missionary sex with a boy could have me about to cry?

I like our chemistry with this too, the natural push and pull. He’s dominant but responsive, curious, thoughtful. We’re turning sex into a conversation, and like all our conversations, it feels easy and natural. It’s like we were made to speak each other’s language.

Yes, and his name is Bandit,” she replies. “I mean, just look at that face.” She flashes me her phone screen over top of my laptop, showing me a video of a large gopher tortoise eating lettuce. “Ugh, the strong silent type and he’s health-conscious? Have I just met my soulmate?” I tease.

I want every piece of this woman—her gorgeous body, her kindness, her clever mind. She’s it for me. She’s the fucking one. I never believed in the idea of soulmates. But until a few months ago, I had never met Tess. Now the universe is calling me a fool. If my soul ever had a mate, I’d want it to be her.

This is what I want,” he goes on, his breath hot against my skin as he teases me with tongue and teeth. “This body. This woman with these perfect fucking curves. I want all of you. Every hour. Every day. No other woman compares to you. Fuck, you kill me, Tess. I can’t breathe when you look at me, and I die when you look away. Tell me I can have you.

I draw myself up next to her and look at her profile, making no effort to disguise my attention, here, where there is only Puck to see me. The evening sun loves her throat and her cheekbones. Her hair the color of cliff grass rises and falls over her face in the breeze. Her expression is less ferocious than usual, less guarded. I say, “Are you afraid?” Her eyes are far away on the horizon line, out to the west where the sun has gone but the glow remains. Somewhere out there are my capaill uisce, George Holly’s America, every gallon of water that every ship rides on. Puck doesn’t look away from the orange glow at the end of the world. “Tell me what it’s like. The race.” What it’s like is a battle. A mess of horses and men and blood. The fastest and strongest of what is left from two weeks of preparation on the sand. It’s the surf in your face, the deadly magic of November on your skin, the Scorpio drums in the place of your heartbeat. It’s speed, if you’re lucky. It’s life and it’s death or it’s both and there’s nothing like it. Once upon a time, this moment — this last light of evening the day before the race — was the best moment of the year for me. The anticipation of the game to come. But that was when all I had to lose was my life. “There’s no one braver than you on that beach.” Her voice is dismissive. “That doesn’t matter.” “It does. I meant what I said at the festival. This island cares nothing for love but it favors the brave.” Now she looks at me. She’s fierce and red, indestructible and changeable, everything that makes Thisby what it is. She asks, “Do you feel brave?” The mare goddess had told me to make another wish. It feels thin as a thread to me now, that gift of a wish. I remember the years when it felt like a promise. “I don’t know what I feel, Puck.” Puck unfolds her arms just enough to keep her balance as she leans to me, and when we kiss, she closes her eyes. She draws back and looks into my face. I have not moved, and she barely has, but the world feels strange beneath me. “Tell me what to wish for,” I say. “Tell me what to ask the sea for.” “To be happy. Happiness.” I close my eyes. My mind is full of Corr, of the ocean, of Puck Connolly’s lips on mine. “I don’t think such a thing is had on Thisby. And if it is, I don’t know how you would keep it.” The breeze blows across my closed eyelids, scented with brine and rain and winter. I can hear the ocean rocking against the island, a constant lullaby. Puck’s voice is in my ear; her breath warms my neck inside my jacket collar. “You whisper to it. What it needs to hear. Isn’t that what you said?” I tilt my head so that her mouth is on my skin. The kiss is cold where the wind blows across my cheek. Her forehead rests against my hair. I open my eyes, and the sun has gone. I feel as if the ocean is inside me, wild and uncertain. “That’s what I said. What do I need to hear?” Puck whispers, “That tomorrow we’ll rule the Scorpio Races as king and queen of Skarmouth and I’ll save the house and you’ll have your stallion. Dove will eat golden oats for the rest of her days and you will terrorize the races each year and people will come from every island in the world to find out how it is you get horses to listen to you. The piebald will carry Mutt Malvern into the sea and Gabriel will decide to stay on the island. I will have a farm and you will bring me bread for dinner.” I say, “That is what I needed to hear.” “Do you know what to wish for now?” I swallow. I have no wishing-shell to throw into the sea when I say it, but I know that the ocean hears me nonetheless. “To get what I need.

He’s my mirror ball. His every surface reflects my perfections back at me. He loves me for exactly who I am. I’m not too loud for him or too opinionated. He doesn’t cringe when I tell jokes because he’s worried I’m funnier than him, pulling away his spotlight. He lets my light shine out as brightly as I want, and he shines it all back on me. I have never known a love or an acceptance of self like I have with Ryan.

There is no one else,” he says, his gaze open and honest. “So long as you give me the time of fucking day, there won’t be. I am so hung up on you, it’s not even funny. When that drunk girl grabbed my hand, I turned around, desperate to see that it was you. I wanted it to be you who came to me—” “I was coming for you,” I admit, my hands smoothing over his bare hips. “Ryan, I followed you inside. I wanted to find you, be near you. I just want to be where you are.

I’m here to tell you that you picked the wrong fucking one,” I reply. “You thought I was easy prey, but you’ve bitten off way more than you can chew with me. I am not alone in this world. I roll thirty people deep at all fucking times,” I say, gesturing over my shoulder to the lobby full of Rays. “I am stronger than you, smarter than you, and people just plain like me better. I am so far out of your fucking league.

Because life is short, Ryan. Life is beautiful and short, and you only get one. Live it on purpose.

They all found their way to each other in the end,” I go on. “It’s messy, but it’s real. Gotta appreciate that.

I don’t have to say it. Our communication goes so much deeper. Souls can speak with more than words, and mine is crying out for him. It’s almost like I can hear his, too, calling to me, begging me to come home. Come find him. Come set his world back on its proper axis.

Always fight for what you’re worth.

I see someone who loves her friends,” I go on. “Someone who puts others first. Maybe I like the idea of being the one who gets to put you first. I like taking care of people, Tess. And I take excellent care of what’s mine.

Nope,” I say, giving her hip another squeeze. “I’m not buying it.” “You’re not buying that you’re her patient?” “I’m not buying that as your excuse,” I counter. “Rachel is your friend, not your mother or your keeper. I bet she’d have no problem with you dating a Ray

Not everyone is meant to thrive, Ilmari. Some of us are born merely to endure.

You’ve been invisible before.” I nod. “Tell me when.” “All my life,” I whisper, breaking our gaze to stare out at the blank expanse of dark ocean instead. “It’s all I’ve ever known. Everyone who was meant to love me, people I needed to care, people I needed to protect me…they all closed their eyes.” My eyes close too as a tear slips down my cheek. “They didn’t see me, Ryan. I was just a child, and they didn’t care.

Give the shell whatever you need it to carry for you. And when you’re ready…let it go.

Over time,” Compton goes on, “I realized I was a sun with no planets, the center of my own universe. I had everything I ever wanted, but I was alone, just me and my career. You were the only one who stayed, Cay. You stuck it out. You let me be selfish and self-centered. You let me put my career first and never once questioned it, never made me question it,” he adds, a slight tremor to his voice. “You joined me at the center. You don’t orbit me like all the others did. You stand resolutely at my side, unmoving. Babe, you are love in suspended motion. The calm in the storm of our lives. You’re where everything stops. You’re where I stop. You are…everything,

This feels like physics to me, not biology. You pulled me in that day on the beach. I tried to avoid it at first, tried to pretend it was just infatuation or lust. Even when you were in Cincinnati, I could feel it.

My Tess. My ginger goddess. Ruler of my fucking universe.

Focus. Speed. Control. I’m in my dead zone, but I can’t push her out. She’s everywhere. She’s everything. This isn’t about hockey anymore, even though I’m dressed in my full kit, minutes away from taking to that ice. Focus. Speed. Control. But all I can think about are those other words, dying to escape my lips, clouding all my thoughts. Three little words. A new mantra. A new prayer. I love you.

Tess Owens, I love you,” I say, trying to keep my voice from trembling. “I’m in love with you. Did you hear me that time?” She nods again, happy tears filling her eyes. “I don’t give a fuck what happened in your past,” I go on. “We all have one. The only thing I care about is that your past brought you to me. Your past is the story you’ve already written. You have to let it stay there, okay? We’re on a new page together, you and me. I’m your future, Tess. Say it.” “You’re my future,” she says.

Troy can bring on the rain. He can drown me for all I care. I’m a good swimmer. And with Ryan holding my hand, I’ve already found a safer shore.

Tess, do you want to be my sporty old lady?” he teases. “You wanna ride my dick and cheer for my team and wear my jersey to my games?

Outside these walls, I’ll be Langley’s girl. I’ll go to your games and wear your number and cheer for you. But we both know that inside these walls, you’re Tess’s boy.

I watch all the muscles in his back tense as he makes a dramatic sweep with both arms, sending the suitcase and the boxes crashing to the floor. The smaller box overturns and my unsigned divorce papers rain down like snow, covering the braided rug. Watching them fall, the truth hits me: I don’t care if Troy ever signs the fucking papers. Either way, I’m free.

Rach,” I gasp, my gaze locking on the jewels. I think in a past life I was a dragon. I am entirely too infatuated with shiny, pretty things.

I take in the picture of the four of them together. “Okay, this should be illegal,” I say, gesturing between them. “This level of hotness in one family is totally unfair to the rest of humanity. We’re all out here just doing our best, and then in walk the four of you. It’s criminal.

Geez,” I mutter, taking a sip of Poppy’s wine. “What’s in the water over at that ice rink? First Rach snatching up three in one hand, now you? Should I be worried Ryan is gonna come home with Patty McFlashy Abs next week?

Cheers to Ryan and Tess,” he says, holding up his glass. “To running in the same direction.

Try as he might, he can’t control me. He can’t make me do as he commands. I center myself in that truth. I am wild. I am fierce. I am free.

Seriously, Tess? This guy? He’s got fucking tassels on his loafers.” “He was hot in college,” I say with a shrug.

Sand up my ass crack, crusty shells on my boobs. How does Ariel make this look so glamorous?

Now I’m standing here, alone in Jake Compton’s kitchen, with one thought echoing in my mind: This is only the beginning. Because there is no way I’m letting her just walk away. Tess Owens is my dream girl…she just doesn’t know it yet.

God, this man is too damn precious. He’s like if a golden retriever came to life and started wearing bespoke Armani suits. And here I was grilling Rachel about needing an exit. What’s the point? No matter where I might take her, this man will just follow us. Jake Compton Price is Rachel’s end game. I have absolutely nothing to worry about by putting her happiness in his hands.

I smile. Suddenly this doesn’t feel so weird. They all look happy. They all want Doc, and they’re willing to share her. It’s kind of beautiful, actually. Life’s too short to go through it settling for a life you don’t want.

We’re all here tonight to witness the union of these four fine people,” calls out Johnny Jay. “The laws in the state of California mean that technically this is a double wedding, but they’d like it clear that they stand now before their family and friends united as one—one team, one family.” “The Fearsome Foursome,” Compton says with a smile.

Four months ago, I got a shove. A hurricane on two legs swept into our lives and knocked us both off our feet. She was my push to love you out loud. To love you as you always should have been loved. So, here’s my vow: The coward who loved you in secret is gone. Rachel remade us both into something stronger. I’m here now, Jake. I’m right fucking here, and I’m saying it out loud.

Frantic texts and phone calls are for work emergencies. Late-night whine and cheese sessions are for family stuff. Early morning freak-outs are only ever about Tess thinking with her vagina instead of her head.

In the nursery, Tess?” Jake says, his tone laced with disappointment. “Where Baby Josh sleeps?

Tess’s brain is at war with her heart, which has been hijacked by her vagina,” Caleb summarizes for him. “She wants Rachel to dunk her heart and her vagina in an ice bath so her brain can take charge again.

I’m convinced: Sex with Tess is gonna kill me…and I’ll gladly thank her for it as my soul ascends.

I like my beers the same way I like my desserts: sweet and fruity.

I’m free, I repeat to myself as I begin to pack. I’m wild and fun and fucking free.

Stop living life like you’re fucking scared of it. I lived that way for ten years. I’ll never get those ten years back. Go.” He shoves my food away from me and points over his shoulder towards the doors. “Go home, Tess.

Now Rachel has a new home and he’s sitting right next to me. Caleb is her home. Caleb and Jake and Ilmari. Maybe that’s why she and I get along so well. We don’t find our home in places or things. We find them in people. For however brief a time, Rachel was my home. Now, we both need to move on.

Now Rachel has a new home and he’s sitting right next to me. Caleb is her home. Caleb and Jake and Ilmari. Maybe that’s why she and I get along so well. We don’t find our home in places or things. We find them in people. For however brief a time, Rachel was my home. Now, we both need to move on. Go home to Ryan.

I’ve always felt so safe in Rachel’s orbit, since that very first night we met. Her men make me feel safe too. An honorary Ray, she called me. Right now, that feels pretty fucking good.

I have a home again. It’s not Ilmari’s bungalow. It’s the man sharing it with me. The sweet, twenty-two-year-old man who plays hockey and loves Mario Kart and can never answer a single text message. The man who always puts the oven on the wrong setting even though you tell him three times. The man who needs a haircut and fucks me like a god. The man who makes me laugh and listens when I speak and holds me when I cry. The man who’s been showing me every day since the day we met how he intends to put me first. Ryan Langley. My Ryan. My home.

I wanted to dismiss our connection, this feeling of opposites attracting, but then Ryan went and called me magnetic. I think he feels it too. He’s drawn to me, and I’m drawn to him. Part of me questions if we’re not meant to collide.

It’s like she’s a damn walking tropical paradise. My very own Sex on the Beach.

The truth is that I’m falling hard for this woman, and from everything I see and feel, she’s just…falling. And I don’t know how to catch her. I don’t know how to make it stop. And she won’t give me a goddamn clue. It’s driving me insane.

I see you, Tess,” he says, dropping his end of the towel to cup my cheek. “I see you. I can’t stop seeing you—your wit, your beauty, your grace. You’re so goddamn graceful. These fingers,” he adds, reaching down to take my hand. “I watch the way they dance through your hair, taming your curls away from your face.” Lifting my hand to his lips, he kisses each of my fingertips, his lips soft. Each kiss lights me up inside, fanning the flames of my desire for him.

The rules are simple: We’re friends who fuck to feel good. You can’t offer more. I’m not taking more. I’m asking you, as your friend, if you’d like to orgasm on my face. Say yes, and I’ll even let you pick which episode of SOA we watch after.” Oh my god, I’m dead. Here lies Tess, passed away from too much sexual tension.

I’m bi, remember? I love the taste of pussy too.

The fact that I want your dick in my mouth. I told Troy you gagged me with your monster cock and choked me on your cum. I’d really like for that to be true. It feels like the journey I’m meant to take tonight.

She twists me up with a look and spins me out with a smile. I’m fucking mad for this woman.

Haven’t you ever been so drawn to a person you wanted to devour them? You want a piece of their essence. You want to mark them, claim them as your own.

I shake my head, totally in awe of this sexual creature before me. She’s so confident, so empowered. It makes me wonder what I’ve been missing all these years. How much fun could I have been having if I treated sex less like a chore or an item on my to-do list?

Apparently, we’re walking around wearing butt plugs now. What the hell is happening to me?

It’s odd, but just knowing Ryan’s here is bringing me comfort. I’m going to log this away under the label ‘Gemini Problems.

What can I say? I’m an extroverted introvert with truly impressive trust and abandonment issues. But man, do I know how to pick a quality cheese.

Sweet puppy, you listen to me now,” I tease. “If you think you have what it takes to ride this rollercoaster, you are sorely mistaken. In your current state, you wouldn’t make it up the first hill. There will be no having my way with you tonight. There will only be sleep.

A few weeks? This woman can have more than that. She can have months. Years. Hell, if she’ll only give us a real chance, a chance to be more than just friends, I’ll be her sweet puppy for the rest of my fucking life.

I don’t care about our pasts,” I call out to him. “I don’t care about this,” I add, dropping the wet documents into the surf. The tide pulls them back and I lose them in the waves. “Stand here with me and let the rain wash it all away.

All my life, I’ve been running and searching and looking for that place that feels like home,” I say over the rain. “All the while, I’ve been alone. I thought it was my curse. Poor Tess, destined to be alone forever.” “And now?” I smile up at him. “And now, tonight, I ran out here to find you. Ryan, I ran to you. I ran home. And now I’m done running.

I came to Jacksonville to be closer to Rachel. I thought she was my home. But I was wrong. She’s just the first person to hold up a mirror and show me that I’m enough.

Right, so this was something my grandma did with us when we were little,” Rachel explains. “You whisper a secret to the shell, a hope, a dream. You give it to the shell to carry, and the ocean keeps it safe.

Closing my eyes, I concentrate on the shell in my hand, feeding it my anger and frustration, my fear, my loneliness, my own self-defeat. I am Tess. I am strong and confident. There is no room for shame. I give it to the shell. I am beautiful and kind. There is no room for insecurity. I let the shell have that too. I am powerful. I am wanted. I am loved. There is no room for doubt.

I’m a rational guy, Tess. I like evidence. I like knowing a thing is real because I see it and feel it. But now, I’m beginning to think I didn’t believe in soulmates because I hadn’t met mine yet. How can you see and feel what it is for your soul to mate with another’s until you find that person meant to be yours?

I just want to love you,” I say. “I want to put you first. I want to see you smile every day and know I’m the reason. I want to be your person. I want to make my home in you, and I want you to make your home in me.

It’s like what you said about soulmates. You don’t know what it means to have one until you have one. I think perhaps I was too quick to dismiss the labels of husband and wife and what they could mean to me because I hadn’t met the person who was meant to carry that title with me.” She smiles, dropping her hand away. “Ryan Puppy Langley, you’re the best person I know. You’re so kind and loving. You’re gentle, yet strong. You listen. You learn. You fight and grow. I’m in love with you, and I’d be honored to be your wife…someday…probably…

And if we ever do get married, we’re having mac and cheese at our wedding.

And if we ever do get married, we’re having mac and cheese at our wedding.” She laughs, her hands slipping down to cup my ass, pulling me tight against her. Then she angles her mouth up and whispers in my ear, “Make it lobster mac and cheese, and I’ll even wear white.