Page 14 of Her Hat Trick Daddies (Game On Daddies #3)

I inch closer, my fingers grazing the warm, firm line where his neck meets his shoulder, the subtle curve of muscle beneath my touch making my breath hitch. “Here?”

He shifts slightly, his jaw tightening in that familiar, rugged way. “Yeah, that’s the spot.”

I let my fingers drift over the soft fabric of his long-sleeved thermal, just beneath his collarbone, feeling the way his muscles tense and tighten beneath my touch. I apply a slow, deliberate pressure. “How about here?” I murmur, my voice like a slow drag of silk over skin.

He exhales deeply, his voice rough and low. “Keep going, sweetheart. Find all my weak spots,” he drawls, the words sliding off his tongue like a sinful promise.

The second he says sweetheart , something tightens deep in my gut. That voice, thick with need, hits me like a lightning strike. It has to be Lion. Same tone. Same heat. Same barely-leashed hunger.

He leans back in his chair, more relaxed now, spreading his thighs wider, cocky, inviting, and damn if that sight doesn’t send a pulse of slick heat straight to my core.

I grin, leaning in closer, just a whisper away from him. “Guess I had a good teacher.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “But I bet you weren’t expecting to use what you learned all the way over here… on me . ”

Before I can respond, my thumbs press into the firm, knotted muscle beneath his trapezius, and I feel his body shift instinctively under my touch. I know I’ve found another spot, but he’s holding something back, and I’m about to find out exactly what that is.

I dig deeper, using my knuckles to press harder into the muscle, pushing through the layers of tension. His body’s wound, coiled with tension, like a thread pulled so taut it’s about to snap. And yet, he hasn’t seen the team masseuse? Isn’t that part of the routine? Mandatory? Interesting…

But I don’t ask questions. I just keep moving. God, he’s all heat and steel and restrained power. Every second my hands stay on him, the energy and tension tighten between us, dangerously coiling hot and low inside my belly.

A rough groan breaks from his throat, the sound desperate, and it damn near rips through me, my thighs clenching involuntarily. It could sound like a thousand men, but in this moment, another reminder of Lion—the familiarity in his voice.

Goddammit, that feels good,” he grunts, his hands locking around mine, holding them there like he’s marking me. His grip is unforgiving, branding me. He turns his head slowly, eyes meeting mine, dark and molten. There’s something else there now, something raw.

Hunger.

“You keep touching me like that, and you’ll be bent over that desk before you can blink, sweetheart. ”

A sharp, needy whimper slips from me before I can stop it.

He smiles, a wicked curl of his lips. “Something tells me that’s exactly what you’re hoping for,” he growls.

I know this is wrong. I came here with one purpose, but now, standing in front of this man—the same man from that unforgettable night—my defenses are crumbling, piece by piece.

I’ve wanted this for so long. It’s more than just physical, more than just the ache of desire.

Something deep inside me stirs, something I can’t ignore.

My pulse races, a throbbing, desperate ache between my legs, wet and wanting.

It’s been so long since I’ve felt this way, like the world outside doesn’t exist, like the only thing that matters is what he’s doing to me.

A shudder of breath escapes me. I should stop this. I should say no, pull back before it goes too far. But I can’t. My body has already made the decision for me.

Without thinking, I step closer, moving from behind him to stand beside him, my hands roaming down his chest, tracing the hard ridges of his abs slowly. His scent, clean and masculine, with a woodsy undertone, floods my senses, dizzying me.

I barely notice when he grabs me by the waist and yanks me into his lap, his strength effortless.

I straddle him without hesitation, my skirt riding up as I feel the thick bulge of his cock press hot and hard against my slick folds, the thin fabric of my thong and the zipper of his pants the only barrier between us.

I bite back a moan, my body moving instinctively, pressing down on him as the heat builds between us .

“Fuck, Leighton,” he says through clenched teeth, his hands roaming my back, my hips, kneading like he wants to devour me. “You’re killing me.”

“Good,” I pant against his cheek.

He chuckles low and dark, the sound vibrating through me. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me… what you’ve been doing to me.”

His hands slip under the hem of my shirt, firm palms grazing over my bare skin, squeezing my ass, sparking a fire that burns through every nerve.

His mouth crashes into mine, hot, frantic, all tongue and passion, a kiss so desperate that it has me rolling and grinding my hips harder against him, shameless, desperate for friction, for release, for more .

When he pulls away, his rough beard scrapes along my jaw, sending a shiver down my spine that makes me whimper, unable to suppress the sound.

“You made me feel better,” he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse in my ear, breath hot against my skin. “Now, let me take care of you. Give you everything you’re dripping for… everything she’s silently begging for.”

The dark promise in his tone, laced with raw hunger, nearly sends me over the edge right then and there. The same filthy whispers he’d breathed in my ear on that chaise at the mansion, all the same words that I wanted him to make good on, if we ever got another chance .

I nod, barely able to breathe. My pussy is already throbbing, already drenched for him, and I know I’m already his for the taking.

Without a word, he lifts me off his lap, setting me firmly on my feet between the desk and the podium.

His hands are rough, commanding, positioning me exactly where he wants me—my ass perched on the edge, one leg hiked up onto the desk, spreading me open just enough to expose all my dirty little secrets. “Don’t move.”

He moves fast, locking the door with a soft click, then crossing the room in two long strides to deadbolt the back doors too. The quiet snicks of the locks are almost too tame for the storm about to break loose between us.

Soon, he’s in front of me again, his palms cradling my face with a tenderness that contrasts sharply with the desire thrumming through his massive frame.

His touch is almost reverent, like he’s afraid he might break me, yet there’s an undeniable force behind it, like he can’t keep his hands off me.

“There’s something about you,” he exhales roughly, each word laced with an intensity that makes my heart race.

“From the moment I saw you in the office, I felt it. A pull. I can’t explain it. ”

The air between us crackles, thick with everything we haven’t said yet. He doesn’t know what it is. But I do. And it only makes me ache for him more.

“You do know me,” I say softly .

He shakes his head, his eyes suddenly becoming feral.

He slides his hands down to my hips, where his grip tightens, possessive, unapologetic.

He holds me there, like a lion marking his territory, claiming me in a way that leaves no room for doubt.

“No. Not like that. It’s different. Every time I see you, every time you so much as breathe near me, it’s like I’m crawling out of my fucking skin trying not to pin you to the nearest wall.

Take you over the desk. Shove you into the men’s showers.

Bend you over in the goddamn press box. Eat your pussy in the stairwell.

Finger fuck you in the elevator. Throw you on my lap in my car. ”

I’m practically panting with eagerness, his words threatening to undo me completely. His breath is hot against my ear as he keeps whispering filthy things.

“I wanna fuck you so hard that you come all over me, on this desk, until you have nothing left to do but scream my name. I want you walking out of here with my cum dripping between your thighs, with one thought in your mind. That I did this to you. And I want you to walk these halls knowing that you belong to me. That I can have my way with you. Whenever. Wherever. However.”

I should rethink this, but logic doesn’t stand a chance against the white-hot hunger ripping through me. I don’t blink. I don’t hesitate. I order him, breathless, desperate. “Then have your way with me.”

His nostrils flare, jaw clenches tight, a guttural sound vibrating low in his chest .

I reach for his belt, unfasten it, then tug down his zipper. “Take me, David.”

He moves like a man unleashed, urgent, all-consuming.

He buries his face in the curve of my neck, inhaling deeply like he’s trying to memorize my scent.

The rough drag of his stubble and the searing heat of his breath send shivers racing across my skin.

My nipples stiffen, painfully taut against the sheer lace of my bra and the thin silk of my blouse stretched over them.

He fists a hand in my hair, tugging my head back, baring my throat like he owns me. Then, god help me, he pops open the buttons of my blouse with his teeth. His fucking teeth. One by one, until the fabric gapes open and slides off my shoulders.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he growls. He sinks his teeth into the soft skin above my collarbone, a rough bite that tears a gasp from my throat and sends a bolt of heat shooting through me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I pant, breathless. “You can’t leave any hickeys on me, Captain,” I manage, already feeling the throb blooming there. No way that love bite would stay hidden under the deep V of my neckline.

“Captain, huh?” he murmurs, licking over the mark he just made. His voice drops. “I like that.”