Page 18 of The Game Plan (Game On #3)

cave. To endure. Broad shoulders like mini boulders, pecs as big as dinner plates. His abdomen is a veritable slab, a wispy

little happy trail of golden-brown hair starting a few inches below his navel.

Tattoo sleeves run from his wrists to the caps of his shoulders. Elegant script the width of my palm spans his collarbones.

“?‘Here be dragons,’?” I read out loud. “Are you the dragon?”

The corner of his mouth quirks. His hands rest on my hips, holding on with just enough tension to tell me he isn’t quite comfortable

with the inspection but is letting me look anyway.

“Mapmakers used to put the saying along the borders, for places where they hadn’t yet charted. It’s in reference to the unknown,

to be mindful of the unexplored.”

I peer closer and see the faint latitude and longitude lines drawn beneath the words.

The map stretches to his shoulders where twin sea serpents play.

I trace the words, and he shivers, his nipples drawing tight and—

“Holy hell.” His left nipple is pierced. “I did not expect that.”

The tops of his cheeks pinken. “I... ah... have sensitive skin. Tattoos, piercings, getting them hurts like a motherfucker.

But pain helps me focus when I get too...” His color grows deeper.

“Horny?” I supply, my finger running gently over his skin, because I can’t stop touching him.

“Yeah.”

“Got a lot of tattoos, Ethan.”

His eyes burn into mine. “Yeah.”

It’s almost too much, thinking about all that suppressed lust and need, and how it’s now focused on me. I touch the small

silver barbell. Dex grunts, his hips shifting against mine. He gazes at me from beneath lowered lids, his lips parted.

“You like that?” I whisper, doing it again, tweaking a bit.

His fingers clench my thighs, the thick erection in his jeans rocking me forward. I brace my hands on his shoulders, caress

his smooth skin.

“Have you any idea how fucking hot you are?” I press a soft, lingering kiss on the hollow of his throat.

He swallows hard. “Whatever you say now, I’ll believe.”

Humming in response, I kiss him again, between his pecs, moving down to that tempting little nipple.

A groan tears from him as I suck the hard, cool barbell into my mouth, worrying the nub of his nipple with the tip of my tongue.

He’s so tight his body trembles, his fingers kneading my shoulders as if he can’t decide whether to hold on or let go.

It spurs me on, makes me take that delicious nub between my teeth and bite, pulling at the metal.

“Oh, fuck, Cherry.” He practically bucks me off with the thrust of his hips, his back arching off the pillows. And I haven’t

even gotten to his cock.

Which is all I want to do now. I smile against his skin and nibble my way down the divot that divides his abdomen.

Dex pants beneath me, and I know he’s watching. I come up on my knees, angling my body so he has a better view. My tongue

flicks out, licking into his small belly button.

“You’re trying to kill me,” he rasps.

“In the best possible way.” I nuzzle his happy trail, my fingers working the fly of his jeans. They’re stretched tight over

his cock, and the zipper makes a loud buzz as I force it down.

I love the way he sucks in a breath, his abs retreating as if he’s almost afraid to feel my touch, but then he cants his hips as if to say, please, please, go lower .

The flat of my tongue drags across thin, tight skin, the muscle beneath quivering, and I slowly part his jeans. Crinkly brown

hairs greet me. Hell, there’s nothing under these here but Dex.

His cock slides out, standing up for attention.

“Jesus,” I rasp.

“What?” His hoarse whisper drifts down to me, and I glance up, see his flushed cheeks, his dazed expression. He’s panting

now, a sheen of sweat glistening over his chest.

“Give me a moment.” My hand reaches out to stroke his hot skin. He’s so hard he pulses.

He swallows, his cock jumping under my touch.

I take a breath and calm myself. Some people don’t like cocks—or at least the look of them. I do. I love everything about

the male anatomy. Dex’s is beautiful—big enough that I know it’s going to be work getting him in, and long enough that I know

I’ll feel each thrust he makes. The thought alone has my thighs pressing together in anticipation.

But that’s not what holds my attention now. No.

He’s pierced. Silver studs glint at the base of his wide cock head. One on the top and one on the bottom. I’ve never been

with a guy who’s pierced, but I’ve heard stories. I know those little nubs will hit all the right spots inside me.

My thumb rubs the larger of the balls on the top, and Dex sucks in a sharp breath.

But he doesn’t move. He’s waiting to see what I’ll say.

“Now, this—” I rub him again, loving the way it makes him twitch with pleasure “—had to hurt going in.”

“You have no idea,” he says in a raw voice.

“When?” And why?

Dex licks his lower lip. “After the wedding. You stripping down to that pretty green bra and those tiny panties. My wet dream

walking. Should have gone for you then.”

I wasn’t ready for him then. I was still all about wild parties and dragging myself through college. I wouldn’t have appreciated Ethan the way he deserves.

I stroke along the underside of the flared head, finding the smaller steel piercing.

His hips shift, and he hisses, but he lets me play.

“You could have found someone else,” I murmur. “Do you know how many women would kill to have you?”

“Didn’t seem to want anyone else,” he whispers. “It had to be you.”

God, the thought of him wanting me so badly. All that pent-up need hiding behind such a calm facade. It terrifies me. And

it makes me want to take him hard and keep him forever.

His solemn eyes, framed by thick lashes, are open wide and trained on my face as his broad chest lifts and falls with each

heavy breath.

“They have no fucking idea, do they?” My voice is barely a whisper.

He stills, the muscles along his torso going tight as he stares back at me. I don’t have to explain myself; he knows exactly

what I mean, and he gives me the barest shake of the head, his throat working on a hard swallow.

No. No one sees him the way I do. Because he doesn’t let them. Content to stay in the shadows, provide support when needed,

never demanding anything for himself. Until me.

I see Ethan Dexter; he shines for me. And I burn hotter than the sun when I’m in his orbit.

I take a deep breath, and the air feels hot and dry going down, I’m so needy for him. But this isn’t about me. Not right now.

My hand glides over his length, barely touching his silky skin. Even so, his body shivers, his expression pinching tight as

though it’s both torture and ecstasy.

“No more thinking, Ethan. Show me how you want it.” I give the rounded tip of his cock a kiss, and it jumps against my lips. Eager, so unbelievably eager. My eyes stay on his. “I need you to show me.”

His nostrils flare on an indrawn breath, and then he reaches for me, his big hand spanning the back of my head. Long fingers

twine in my hair, gathering it in his grasp. He holds me just tight enough that I feel it in my scalp. Hell, I feel it down

my thighs.

They clench when he slowly guides my head back to his cock. Those serious eyes peer down at me. His voice is a low rumble.

“Open.”

God.

My lips part, my breath coming in a soft pant. But he doesn’t shove himself in. No, he’s fucking deviant because he wraps

his free hand around the wide base of his cock and slowly runs the fat, swollen crown over my upper lip.

The cool, metal ball runs along the seam of my lips, such a strong contrast to all that hot flesh, that a moan breaks from

deep within me. Without bidding, I open wider, wanting him on my tongue.

His eyes burn into mine. “Give it a lick.”

And I do, a teasing flick along the tiny slit of his dick. His nostrils flare. “More, Cherry. Lick it good and slow.”

“Like this?” I run the flat of my tongue around the crown, licking him up like he’s an ice cream cone.

Ethan bites his bottom lip, his lashes fluttering down, and manages to give me a nod. I do it again, earning a moan from him.

“Oh, Jesus, Fi... Maybe... ah... God, Cherry, do whatever you want to me. I’m yours. I’m all yours.”

He’s sprawled back, his long body taking up all of the bed, one arm thrown over his forehead, his lip caught between his teeth

as if in pain. He gazes down at me so full of lust and need, he seems almost helpless, this massive guy.

Mine.

Kissing the tip, I smile up at him, and then suck him deep.

He grunts loud and long, a garbled unf that tears from his throat as his back leaves the bed, almost dislodging him from my mouth. I wrap my fingers around his

base, my free hand smoothing up and down his thigh as I work my tongue over his piercing.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He fists the sheets, pulling them from the mattress, as his hips shift and twitch.

I smile around his cock. Soon.

Torturing Ethan tortures me as well. I’m so hot my thighs quiver and my nipples ache. I curl over him, my palms braced on

his thick thighs. He’s so big and hard in my mouth, my jaw hurts. I don’t care. I could do this every day.

I take my time, explore every substantial, glorious inch of him, cup his heavy balls and gently roll them in my palm. Oh,

but he loves that.

“Give them a tug,” he whispers, sounding desperate. When I do, his whole body shudders.

“Fi, Fi, I’m gonna...” He licks his lips and gazes down at me as if he’s lost the power of speech.

Oh, but I know. I want him to come spectacularly. The power in his body moves under my touch. It’s heady. And when he comes

with an agonized groan, giving himself fully over to me, I fall completely under his spell.