Page 31 of Play for Power (Central Sparks #3)

Without my vision to aid me, I am left with my imagination. And that guy is as filthy as they come. I see Rosie sitting perched on my lap in her dark purple lace, caramel skin, and free curls, and I make a pained sound, my head thrown back between my shoulders.

“What are you doing to me, Rosie?”

“Winning,” she whispers in my ear. The word itself helps me to snap back into my senses. She thinks she can throw me off with her sultry voice, her addictive scent, and promise of sex? Well, yeah…she can. But , I never shy from a challenge.

“Okay.” She sighs, her hands caging my face.

If I were a stupid man, I’d think she was about to lean forward and kiss me, but she’s not that sweet.

I know this is going to wreck me more than the chocolate finger.

“I’m going to guide you, and when I say, you’re going to stick out your tongue and taste.

Are you ready?” There is humor laced in her words, but I can’t get the words out, so I jerk my head in confirmation.

Eager like a teenager about to see his first ever tit.

Her grip on my face tightens ever so slightly and she leans forward while easing my head toward her. “Lick,” she instructs, and I groan, my tongue coming out and swiping against her smooth and delicious skin.

A single lick was all I needed, and I push the flavors into my mouth.

“Mrs. Butterworth’s. Maple syrup,” I breathe, noting that her hands are still on me but have moved to the back of my neck, where her fingers play with the ends of my hair.

I know this is her trying to distract me, but she could never distract me from her.

Her mistake being that I mapped her body that first night and burned her shape and taste into my memory the second time out of fear of never getting another chance.

I fight the urge to cheer in victory knowing I am winning this game hands down.

She hums quietly in agreement to the ingredient I guessed, and I continue, “Left side, that smooth space between your shoulder and neck. You have a freckle there.” Her intake of breath is sharper, her hands freezing against my hair, and I don’t miss the quick “ Fuck ” she breathes, and my grin splits my face.

“Oh, Rosie. I think I found my new favorite game.”

“Hmm.” She tries to act unaffected, but she is still perched on my lap and I can feel her heat, hear her breathing, and I know she can feel my hard-on under her. She gives herself away just a touch as she drops down onto it, ever so slightly. “Fine. I’m upping the stakes.”

Fuck yes. “I am all ears.”

“One more round of this, and if you guess right again, I’m leveling up.” She stays planted on my lap, but I feel her reach for something and it has her tits pressing into my chin.

I am but a man. A man with the hottest woman in the universe perched on my lap, feeding me sweet treats off her skin.

So obviously I cannot be expected to not bury my face between the sweet valley of her tits.

I nuzzle her, breathe her in, and before she has the chance to pull away, I lightly nip and lick at her skin, completely coming undone for her and so desperately wishing she hadn’t tied my hands or covered my eyes.

“Out of it, pest.” She pushes at my chest as she chuckles.

“How about we table this game for later, you untie me and let me have my way with you,” I hedge, but I know it’s a long shot.

“Worried you won’t win?”

“No, just eager to claim my prize,” I retort, hearing her responding laugh, really wishing I could see it on her pretty face.

“Surely you can come up with a better prize than just getting laid.” Is she nuts?

“Your pussy is all the prize I need.”

“Oh, you’re so fun to play with,” she replies, but I think it was more for her.

She seems to be done fiddling with whatever she was getting ready.

I feel her lean back, there is a snap of something, and then a quiet thud, and my heart rate picks up.

Because that sounded like the discarding of clothing.

Please be naked. Please be naked , I chant quietly to myself and then snap out of it.

She didn’t remove herself from my lap, so it must have been her bra she discarded.

That means she is braless…in my lap (yay), or she removed her panties before she sat in my lap and was not just braless, but completely naked.

Meaning, right now…she might be butt-ass naked… in my lap.

God, what if she is just as needy as me? What if she is just sitting there, in my lap, naked, dripping, aching.

“ Fuck. ” I squeeze my eyes under the mask and my head falls back, willing my overactive imagination to shut the fuck up so I don’t explode in my pants. “This blindfold is fucking with me, Rosebud.”

“That’s the point, hotshot. You ready?”

“Good lord, I’ve never been more ready. Apologies in advance if I spend inside my boxers. I blame you.”

“I’ll wear that fault proudly.”

I start sweating with anticipation. I want to see her smile, I want to see her eyes glimmer with that cheek in her tone. Good God, she has utterly ruined me.

She grips my face like before and I know she’s going to tell me to lick. She sits up taller, angling my face down, and I think I might cry; this woman is pure heaven.

“Taste me,” she whispers, but I don’t just lick her like before, I lunge forward, my lips wrapping around her nipple that I knew was there waiting for me.

I drag my tongue over it, sucking up all the strawberry topping before dragging my teeth over her.

I feel her hands fly to my hair, holding me in place.

The scrape of her nails through my scalp has me growling low in my throat, frustrated once again that I can’t use my hands to haul her toward me.

“You seem to have a thing for Hershey’s,” I say on a breath, but she doesn’t respond with words, just moans as she pulls at my hair.

I go back to her breast to play a little more, flicking my tongue over her tight bud before biting again and pulling back.

“Hershey’s strawberry topping. On the most delicious set of tits to grace humankind.

” I go back in and briefly hear a chuckle turning into a moan.

“I win, right? What’s my prize? If I get to pick, I choose this blindfold off.

Wait. No, the hand ties. Definitely the hand ties.

If I get to pick two, I’ll get rid of both.

Please. Jesus. ” I dive back in, so eager to feel her skin on my skin.

She chokes between a laugh and a moan again, and as she starts to shift, I think she is actually going to deliver, but then she starts to tsk at me, withdrawing and pulling away from my reach.

A pained groan of protest finds its way up my throat.

“Rosie,” I warn her, feeling a hell of a lot less playful, edging into insatiable.

“Caleb,” she repeats, low, husky, sexy. “You didn’t listen. You win, I up the stakes.” I hear her voice surround me as she moves and then the blindfold is ripped from my face.

“Oh thank God.” My imagination was about to do me in. “Stakes?”

She walks slowly back around to the front, dragging her fingers across my shoulder, sending goddamn goose pimples all over my body. Goose pimples!? I don’t get goose pimples. This is ridiculous.

“The game is simple now,” she throws out nonchalantly as her hands start to slowly dance along the exposed parts of her skin.

I watch, enraptured with the seductive way she touches herself.

“I’m going to play. You’re going to enjoy, but not too much.

” My eyes go to hers then, and I was right.

The caramel does swirl, like a frenzied mix as the mischief and chaos she feeds off in her games engulfs her.

“Not too much?” I query with a raised brow, letting my eyes take in her whole form again before finding my favorite pair of eyes.

She just slowly shakes her head, taking a step or two closer to me.

Before I know it, she’s standing between my legs, her hands coming down to rest on my thighs as she leans in, her tits on full display and her lips ever so slightly dragging along mine in a decadent promise.

She whispers, “You don’t get to come until I say. ”

My eyes almost roll into the back of my head and I groan before my eyes make their way back to her.

“Oh, Rosebud, our game isn’t going to last very long.” I have to bite my lip, not even ashamed at the admission. Any average person in their right mind would understand, given the circumstances.

But Rosie is anything but average. She tilts her head with the grace of a feline, her smile spreading and becoming the fully fledged vixen I know her to be.

“What? Caleb Smith turning down a challenge? And here I thought you would be fun to play with.” She drags her nails down my thighs before leaning in and pressing a light kiss to my neck, right below my ear. Dragging her tongue up until she bites on my ear and whispers, “Admitting defeat, hotshot?”

“Never,” I grind out through gritted teeth, trying my hardest to think of my grandmother, or Noah’s mom, or, like, cat shit on a waffle. Something to ease the ache and, for the love of God, let me win this challenge so I can get her back.

“Then let’s play.”