Page 19
“Make me,” she said, her tone hard.
Game. Fucking. On.
He slapped her ass again and flipped her onto her back in one smooth motion. She gasped and let her legs fall open, a clear invitation to do his worst. He would, but not until she fucking begged him first. Grabbing her wrists with his one hand, he kissed her hard, lowering his body over hers. He was fully clothed while she was naked.
Another power trip on his part.
It was all part of the game.
As he kissed her, his tongue grazing across hers slowly, he ran his hands down her curves. He’d easily put her at 32-25-34. Fucking hot as hell. Curling his hand under her ass, he arched her up against his still-clothed cock, moaning into her mouth when she brushed against him eagerly. Her nails dug into his shoulders. He needed to feel her tearing his flesh. He’d bet she drew blood when she came.
Ending the kiss, he hopped off the bed.
“Don’t fucking move,” he commanded, grabbing the hem of his shirt and yanking it over his head. “Don’t even think about moving.”
Her eyes flashed a challenge at him, but she stayed still. “You’re bossy.”
“So are you,” he said, cocking a brow. Not dropping her gaze, he undid his pants. “But in the bedroom, I win. I always win.”
She snorted, but the heat in her eyes told him she wasn’t actually scoffing at his comment. It turned her on, knowing she couldn’t win this battle. She liked it, and they both knew it. “We’ll see about that.”
“Yes, we will.”
“Your tattoos…” She licked her lips, her gaze dipping south, then darting back to his. “Are they down there, too?”
“Yep.” He unzipped his fly. “You want to see?”
“Yes.”
He lowered his pants to his thighs. The tips of the black ink letters that said “No Surrender” on his left thigh were just visible. “Ask nicely.”
“Take your pants off for me now,” she said, smiling sweetly at him.
“What was that?” He lowered his pants a little more. His boxer briefs hugged his bulging cock, and she didn’t miss a beat. “I didn’t hear the magic word.”
“Damn you.” She bit down on her lower lip. “Please take your clothes off.”
His pants hit the floor, and he kicked them aside. “Gladly.”
“Boxers, too.” She squirmed, her eyes on his cock. “Please.”
“You’re getting good at this,” he said, grinning even wider and lowering his last article of clothing. Once he was naked, he stood there, letting her look her fill. “Now you just need to beg me to fuck you.”
She shook her head slowly. “I repeat: Make me.”
Laughing, he opened the drawer by the side of the bed, took a condom out, and rolled it on his cock. She watched him the whole time, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Once the safety aspect of what he was about to do was taken care of, he sat down beside her and ran his thumb over her lower lip, freeing it from her bite.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous.”
A shaky breath escaped her. “No, you are. All those muscles. All this—” She lifted her hand, then froze halfway to his chest. “May I?”
Good. She’d remembered that he’d told her not to move. “Yes.”
“All this artwork…” she continued, tracing the lines of the skull on his chest. “It’s amazing.”
“Ink. It’s called ink.”
“Well, with all this ink?” She rested her hand on his abs. “You’re the one who’s beautiful.”
Game. Fucking. On.
He slapped her ass again and flipped her onto her back in one smooth motion. She gasped and let her legs fall open, a clear invitation to do his worst. He would, but not until she fucking begged him first. Grabbing her wrists with his one hand, he kissed her hard, lowering his body over hers. He was fully clothed while she was naked.
Another power trip on his part.
It was all part of the game.
As he kissed her, his tongue grazing across hers slowly, he ran his hands down her curves. He’d easily put her at 32-25-34. Fucking hot as hell. Curling his hand under her ass, he arched her up against his still-clothed cock, moaning into her mouth when she brushed against him eagerly. Her nails dug into his shoulders. He needed to feel her tearing his flesh. He’d bet she drew blood when she came.
Ending the kiss, he hopped off the bed.
“Don’t fucking move,” he commanded, grabbing the hem of his shirt and yanking it over his head. “Don’t even think about moving.”
Her eyes flashed a challenge at him, but she stayed still. “You’re bossy.”
“So are you,” he said, cocking a brow. Not dropping her gaze, he undid his pants. “But in the bedroom, I win. I always win.”
She snorted, but the heat in her eyes told him she wasn’t actually scoffing at his comment. It turned her on, knowing she couldn’t win this battle. She liked it, and they both knew it. “We’ll see about that.”
“Yes, we will.”
“Your tattoos…” She licked her lips, her gaze dipping south, then darting back to his. “Are they down there, too?”
“Yep.” He unzipped his fly. “You want to see?”
“Yes.”
He lowered his pants to his thighs. The tips of the black ink letters that said “No Surrender” on his left thigh were just visible. “Ask nicely.”
“Take your pants off for me now,” she said, smiling sweetly at him.
“What was that?” He lowered his pants a little more. His boxer briefs hugged his bulging cock, and she didn’t miss a beat. “I didn’t hear the magic word.”
“Damn you.” She bit down on her lower lip. “Please take your clothes off.”
His pants hit the floor, and he kicked them aside. “Gladly.”
“Boxers, too.” She squirmed, her eyes on his cock. “Please.”
“You’re getting good at this,” he said, grinning even wider and lowering his last article of clothing. Once he was naked, he stood there, letting her look her fill. “Now you just need to beg me to fuck you.”
She shook her head slowly. “I repeat: Make me.”
Laughing, he opened the drawer by the side of the bed, took a condom out, and rolled it on his cock. She watched him the whole time, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Once the safety aspect of what he was about to do was taken care of, he sat down beside her and ran his thumb over her lower lip, freeing it from her bite.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous.”
A shaky breath escaped her. “No, you are. All those muscles. All this—” She lifted her hand, then froze halfway to his chest. “May I?”
Good. She’d remembered that he’d told her not to move. “Yes.”
“All this artwork…” she continued, tracing the lines of the skull on his chest. “It’s amazing.”
“Ink. It’s called ink.”
“Well, with all this ink?” She rested her hand on his abs. “You’re the one who’s beautiful.”
Table of Contents
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