Page 36 of Let the Game Begin (Kiss Me Like You Love Me #1)

He used his tight grip on my hair to force me to bend my back and turn my face in his direction.

I opened my eyes again just as Neil breathed against my lips.

I met his gaze and noticed a total absence of emotion there.

Then, unexpectedly, a flicker of concern moved across his unusual eyes.

This was the first bit of human connection we’d shared since he decided to show up in my room.

He nuzzled the tip of my nose with his own and then kissed me, urgently and passionately.

I moaned into his full, greedy lips, and then Neil showed me just how unrelenting he could be.

He began to synchronize the movements of his tongue with the thrusts of his pelvis.

He stopped teasing my clit and moved that hand up to my breast, gripping and kneading it forcefully.

I wanted to feel his skin; I wanted to trace his tattoos and learn more of his story.

I wanted to soak up his heat the way I did that first time on my bed, but that wasn’t possible.

Neil kept his clothes on, emotionally far away, consumed solely by his desire to possess me.

He broke the kiss and bent me over again, pushing my back down with his chest. Then he continued to move in that firm, rapid way.

Always seeking more, like some insatiable beast.

I came abruptly, strangling him and trapping him in that private place where only he had ever been granted access.

I ground my lip between my teeth as I felt electrical pulses moving through my body, a rainbow of colors appearing before my eyes.

I also slowly became aware of the sound the desk was making as it slammed into the wall.

The fear of being discovered mingled with the devastating sensations I was experiencing.

But that was just what Neil was: a lusty man leading me to hell, uncaring about any consequences. I felt buffeted along by a wind that I couldn’t outrun, and this little vice of mine was becoming a genuine bad habit.

Pleasure fused with the pain of his thrusts and radiated through every cell in my body. I arched my back and chased his movements, hoping he would come soon as well.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he squeezed my still bra-covered breasts and continued to drive into me like a maniac.

I silently prayed for him to orgasm because I didn’t know how long I could continue to absorb all that power.

Now that I’d gone over my own peak, his member was more uncomfortable inside me.

“Look, Selene. Look at that…” He moved my face toward the mirror and only then did I realize that he’d had a full view of us the whole time, lost in our moment of wanton excess.

I could see Neil bent over me, his marble-hard glutes contracting with each thrust, his pants lowered to his knees.

His flexed forearms were so big they seemed in danger of ripping his shirt.

His face was beautiful, with a cruel smile on his red, swollen lips.

Then, I saw myself: legs half-bent, my spine curved and my butt raised up. I saw my reflection’s breasts flattened against the wood, cheeks flushed, lips parted. My eyes were shining and my hair was a mess.

I looked like a wild creature, a woman without inhibitions.

It didn’t look like me .

“Do you like to watch? It makes me crazy,” he said, and I felt something wet gliding down my cheeks. I was crying.

It was in that moment that I truly understood the profound differences between the two of us. I had pushed myself so hard, trying to bridge the gap of that difference. But instead I had just lost myself as I followed him.

I continued to stare into the mirror. Neil rested his cheek against mine and ground his stubbly jaw against my smooth, moist skin. Though he clearly saw my tears, there was no apology in his eyes nor understanding. Just a simple awareness that he had put me in this state of distress.

“Look.” He withdrew from me slowly and showed me his cock in the mirror. My reaction was instantaneous: I blushed.

“Remember? I told I’d show you how perfectly a man and woman could fit together. Don’t you find it romantic?” he whispered sneeringly.

“You’re insane,” I said harshly, smelling his clean scent mixed with the distinct odor of sex. We were both sweating and breathless.

“You have no idea,” he said, pushing into me again and I gasped.

I couldn’t take more endless minutes of incessant pounding, but his breathing had gotten fast so I knew he was approaching his limit.

The last thrust was so powerful and resonating that both of our bodies trembled.

He pulled out and marked me right there between my thighs where I was still quivering from his presence.

My eyes widened when, moments later, I felt his seed running down my legs until it dripped onto the floor.

Neil grabbed my hips like he needed to hold something to keep from falling over. A soft moan accompanied this tiny moment of weakness; his biceps tensed. After this one instant of vulnerability, he bit his lower lip and not one single grunt, moan, or other animalistic noise left his lovely mouth.

Neil was filthy, vulgar, and perverse but not theatrical. He felt no need to impress a woman with false or excessive chatter during sex. The silence was compelling in its own way.

“Fuck,” he said, more to himself than to me, staring down at the evidence on my body of his total loss of control.

I stood up from the desk. My elbows were red and my back ached.

I got to my feet but staggered when I was hit by a dizzy spell.

Neil immediately grabbed me, and I rested my head against his chest. I didn’t care if it made me look weak; I was exhausted and it was physically challenging to stand on my own two legs.

He wrapped his arm around my waist and moved my hair off my sweating forehead with his free hand. Neither of us spoke.

Neil helped me to my bed and I lay down on the sheets, curling automatically into a fetal position. His smell was all over me, and I felt like a wreck while he continued to smell and look impeccable.

He backed away from the bed and tucked his still half-hard penis back into his boxers and rearranged his pants, all without taking his eyes off me.

It was horrifying, the blank way he could look at me after such an intense, yearning, explosive orgasm.

I felt the chill sinking into my bones and my heartbeat throbbed in my temples and wrists.

I began to shake again. This act of intimacy hadn’t brought us together.

If anything, it was the opposite. We looked like two perfect strangers.

Neil continued staring at me in the most detached, almost irritated way, and I felt my self-control slipping more and more. This was the man who had full possession of my soul. I no longer knew who I was.

It was madness.

“Never set foot in that room again. My fucking life is none of your business,” he said angrily, and I flinched at his severe tone. Suddenly, I understood his aggression: it was punishment for my intrusion.

“Why?” I sat up on the edge of the bed, trying to ignore the chafing between my legs.

I put my feet down on the cold floor. Half-naked in just my white bra, sodden panties, and thigh-highs, I looked completely worn out.

Or maybe Neil was just good at making me feel that way.

I sighed and got unsteadily to my feet. I couldn’t let him steamroll me anymore; I needed to show him that I was stronger than he believed.

“Because I didn’t come in here to be loved or understood by you,” he answered, scowling. Then he looked at me with that disarming certainty that set him apart from everyone else. I faced him, fixing my eyes on his. I was going to find all of his weak spots.

“You came in here because you want me more than you want anyone else, and that scares you.”

He was expecting just about anything except that. He jerked in surprise and then burst into dismissive laughter. He approached me with confident strides and slowly scanned my body.

“You’re so naive, Selene…” He toyed with a lock of my hair, and I tightened my lips into a thin line.

His scent was surrounding me entirely and it gave me goosebumps.

I hated myself in that moment for the way he made me feel.

“Whenever you talk like that, I just want to fuck the innocence right out of you,” he whispered in my ear, touching first my cheek and then the curve of my neck.

His eyes followed the path his hands made while he breathed me in, absorbing me slowly. He meant to destroy me, I could see it.

“Is that supposed to make me think I got you wrong?” I murmured in a small voice. I had no idea where this unusual bravery was coming from.

“I’m sorry for you, Tinkerbell, but this isn’t a fairy tale.” He drew close to my mouth and gave me a sarcastic smile. Then he ran his tongue along the contour of my lower lip before walking away and leaving me there, sitting in the wake of his mysterious, shadowy presence.

I still wanted to get some of my own back, though, so I shoved past him and knelt down to pick up the books he’d hurled to the floor when he bent me over the desk. I rubbed my face and closed my eyes.

No. I shouldn’t cry, even if I wanted to because he had hurt me. What had really wounded me, however, wasn’t his indifferent words, but the way he managed to make me feel.

Filthy, wrong, weak.

Neil was a temptation that I couldn’t resist, but every time I gave in, I couldn’t live with myself after.

I sickened myself; I hated myself. I crouched there with his seed between my thighs, his smell on me, his saliva drying on my skin, and I was ashamed of having allowed him to take ownership of me—of my mind as well as my very being.

“You’re bad for me,” I said through gritted teeth. It was a truth we both knew, me especially.

Neil swallowed but retained his composure as though my words didn’t come as a surprise. “I’m bad for everyone,” he agreed. He glanced at my books and then at the desk. He appeared to be considering something for a few moments before he headed for the door.

He left the room, but I could still feel his presence. He was all around me, but most of all, he was inside me.

He was a demon in the shape of a god. He wore his perversion and vice like horns, his confidence like a forked tail, and wielded his damned personality like a weapon—like a pitchfork.

Yet, for all of this, Neil was the person who brought my world to life.

The one who brought me to life.