Page 52

Story: Pucking His Enemy

“Shhh.”

I reach up, trace the curve of her jaw with my knuckles. Her skin’s warm, soft. Her eyes flicker to my mouth.

“You missed something,” I say.

“Oh?” she breathes.

“Heart rate.” I press two fingers to the base of her throat. Her pulse jumps under my touch. “Yours is flying.”

“That’s not… that’s not accurate data.”

“It is when I’m the one taking it.”

Her hand lands on my chest. Probably meant to push me away. She doesn’t.

Damn, she smells incredible.

I dip down and brush my mouth just beneath her jaw—right where her pulse thuds wild. She gasps, grabbing a fistful of my shirt, pulling me closer instead of shoving me off.

I can't tell how much she knows about this charade, but she's sure as hell not stopping me.

Fuck Griffin and his warnings. If I'm gonna be stuck pretending with her, might as well see how far she'll let this go.

I back her toward the wall. She bumps into the metal rack with a soft gasp. Her clipboard falls, papers fluttering to the floor like they’re abandoning this whole assesment.

“Tell me to stop,” I say, but I’m already sliding my hand to her waist, dragging her against me.

She doesn’t tell me to stop.

I dip my head lower, lips brushing her neck, her collarbone, breathing her in like I need her scent just to stay upright.

Her hand is in my hair now. Tugging. Controlling. I let her. Fuck, I want her to.

“I thought this was an assessment,” she whispers, breath hot against my ear.

“It is. You’re testing all my limits.”

She laughs, but the sound breaks halfway through. I feel it in her chest against mine.

We don’t kiss.

But it’s close.

So fucking close I can taste the yes on her lips.

My mouth finds the soft skin just below her ear and I suck—slow, deep—until she gasps my name.

My cock is hard enough to hurt, but I don’t make a move. Not yet. Just let her feel what she’s doing to me. Let her grind her hips once, desperate for friction, before I pull back an inch.

One. Damn. Inch.

“Liam…” Her voice is shaky now. “We can’t—”

I cut her off with a growl. “You think I don’t know that?”

A door slams somewhere in the arena. Reality slams harder.

We jolt apart like kids caught making out at a funeral. She’s panting. Her lips are red and bitten. Her shirt’s wrinkled. My dick’s still throbbing in my compression shorts and my hands are shaking like I just dropped gloves and took a hit I didn’t see coming.