Page 128 of The Illicit Play

Walk away before you do something insane!

“But I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

A creak on the stairs makes us both flinch.

“Catch you guys later,” Carson mumbles as he climbs the stairs, Nylah giggling beside him.

“Stop. You are not keeping me up all night.”

“Kitty Cat, you know that is exactly what I’ll be doing.”

Her laughter grows, then turns into a squeal, and I act without thinking, quickly ducking into Blake’s room before I get caught outside her door.

The second the wood shuts behind me, I realize my error. I should have gone to my room. I could have dashed down there before they saw me, but no, I had to step into the pit of temptation.

Spinning around, I spot Blake leaning against the door, staring at me.

All I can do is drink her in.

She’s wearing a pair of pajama bottoms that hang low on her hips and show off her flat stomach. The material is covered in cartoon hearts, and the flimsy top that goes with them has a massive heart across the front. I can make out the shape of her boobs—her puckered nipples—and have to force my eyes to the floor.

Her cute toes are curling into the rug and… shit, I have to get out of here.

“Please,” she whispers. “Please don’t go.”

Glancing back up at her desperate frown, I swallow, knowing there’s no way in hell I’m walking out of this room.

I can’t.

I can’t leave her like this.

And it’s not because I don’t want to. I physically don’t think I can, which means we need to come clean about this shit.

But not tonight.

Not right now when she looks so vulnerable, so raw, so real.

My feet shift before I can stop them, and she meets me halfway, crashing into my body and cupping the back of my head. I kiss her slow. It’s smooth and familiar, our tongues knowing this dance.

It’s the easiest thing in the world, my hands gliding over hers, dipping into the back of her pajamas bottoms and palming her sweet ass.

She rises on her tiptoes, her tits rubbing against me through the thin fabric. Grinding her hips into my growing erection, I relent to her soft whimpers and lift her off the floor.

Her legs wrap around me like she’s home, and I walk us back to her bed. We’ve never done it on a bed, never experienced a soft mattress, the comforts of home.

As her body sinks into the fluffy duvet cover, I can’t help a smile. She deserves this—comfort and warmth, soft tenderness.

Taking my time, I ignore all the risks that wait for me outside that door and slowly peel the clothes from her body.

Whipping my towel off, I let it drop to the floor so I can move more freely. I’m used to being naked around this woman. We spent the week acting like naturalists, living without the constrictions of clothing, and it feels soright to pull her pajamas off, to throw them to the floor and relish her naked skin.

Kneeling between her legs, I kiss and tease her clit, loving the way her body moves and gyrates. Her neck cranes back, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she tries to stay quiet.

When I slip my fingers inside her, she lets out a soft moan, and I reach up, covering her mouth with my hand. “Shhh,” I remind her, and she nods, writhing beneath my touch.

Trailing my hand back down her body, I pause, enjoying her perfect tits before focusing back on what I’m doing between her legs.

When she finally comes, her pussy is wet, my fingers slick as I trail them down her leg and lay myself over her.