Page 115 of Trick Shot

I grab her neck and pull her tighter against me, leaning down.

“Say my name,” I demand in her ear.

“Jace,” she sobs.

“Try again.” I roll my hips and slide out of her, letting her feel my absence before slamming into her again. “Who’s fucking you right now, Bunny?”

“Ghost,” she cries.

And she breaks. Her entire body locks up, tight, trembling, clenching around me like she’s trying to trap me inside her.

I slap my hand over her mouth just in time for her scream to explode into my palm.

Her legs give out, and her nails dig into my forearm.

“That’s it. Let me have it,” I growl against her ear, fucking her through it slower.

I grab her by the jaw again, my hand curling under her chin, and turn her head back toward me while I’m still buried deep inside her.

I cut off her moans with my mouth, kissing her open-mouthed and slow.

I fuck her through the kiss, a few more thrusts, until I feel my own orgasm coming.

“Down,” I press between her shoulder blades until she’s on all fours again. “Stay just like that.”

She shivers, spent and shaking. I pull out—thick, aching—and stroke myself hard, fast, savage, drinking in the sight of her pussy, still soft and wet from coming for me."

“Fuck,” I grunt, cock in hand as I come all over her ass in thick, hot ropes that mark her as a claim.

She gasps, head bowed, hands fisting the sand as she feels every last drop of me on her skin.

“Try to run from me again, little bunny,” I pant, leaning down, “and see how disgusting I can get.”

Chapter eighteen

~MELODY~

There are warm rocks pressing against my thigh, a palm tree above me, and a dangerously attractive man rearranging pebbles in front of me.

“You have to start with the flat one,” Jace says. “That’s your foundation. You can’t just go raw-dogging gravity with a triangle-shaped rock.”

“Ilikethe triangle one,” I mutter, narrowing my eyes at it.

“It’s unstable, baby,” he replies, picking it up and putting it to the side. “We’ll put it on top.”

I watch him sort through the rocks around us, looking for a flat one. I’m still trying to process that this is Ghost—and that I had him inside me less than an hour ago. Now he’s teaching me how to build a rock tower.

“Watch this,” I say, putting my tongue between my teeth as I try to balance the triangle one despite him telling me not to. It falls.

“Impressive,” he chuckles, placing a few rocks in front of me. “Try these. I’ll tell you the order.”

He places his hand on my thigh as I clear the area for a new tower. His hand is large and warm, his thumb brushing against my skin.

We fall into a comfortable silence, just the sounds of waves rolling in and seagulls fighting over something in the distance.

I glance up at him. He’s got sand on his skin, his hair wet and almost golden from days in the sun. He looks obnoxiously perfect. How does he still have abs sitting down?

And how is he this good at flipping the switch? Less than an hour ago, he chased me and took me on all fours. Then he carried me to the water, where we washed off with a lazy swim. Now he’s teaching me how to balance rocks.