The Game Plan (Game On, #3)(34)

Don’t come. Don’t you f*cking come.

I take a breath, and it burns through my lungs.

Then she touches me, the brush of her fingers tracing my cheek. “Ethan.”

I find her gazing up at me, her cheeks flushed and dewy with sweat. So beautiful I can’t speak. Her thumb caresses my skin. “Now, baby.”

A groan rips from me. I lose myself, thrusting with blind need. And it feels so good, so f*cking good, my entire body ignites. I can’t help glancing down, watching myself—harder than I’ve ever been and glistening with her sweet slickness—tunnel in and out of her tight clasp.

The sight sends my awareness into overdrive, has me pushing harder, loving her with my entire body.

But I need to do right by her. “Tell me what to do,” I rasp against her mouth. “Tell me how to please you.”

She’s breathing light and fast, her arms limp around my shoulders. “What you’re doing now…” She shifts a little beneath me, her brow furrowing in concentration. So f*cking beautiful. “Push upward when you thrust. Right…” Her breath hitches when I comply. “Yes. Right there. There, Ethan.”

I do it again. Watching her. Loving the way her pretty face twists with pleasure, how she whimpers and pleads when I hit that spot within her. And each time I do, my metal piercing shifts and pulls, sending ripples of pure feeling down my cock.

I f*ck her until my balls draw up, pleasure coiling them so tight my spine tingles. “Cherry, I’m close. I don’t want to…” I thrust again and groan. Lust is like a thunderclap within me. “I don’t want to go without you.”

Her eyes are wide, dazed. “Suck my nipple and f*ck me hard, Ethan.”

Jesus. I nearly come there and then.

Panting, I crane my neck, find the stiff bud of her nipple and pull it in deep. She moans, writhes against me like she wants to get away. Only she’s grabbing my hair and tugging me closer as if she’s afraid I’ll stop. Not a chance.

I pound into her. Giving her more. Taking more.

Until Fi utters a cry, her slim body straining against mine. The walls of her sex clamp down tight, beginning to tug at my dick in rhythmic pulses. And I lose it.

So good. So good, I can’t think. Her nipple pops free and my face burrows into the sweat-slick crook of her neck as I cry out and pound into her until I come so hard, I can’t even remember my name.

Just hers.

“Fi.”





Chapter Fifteen





Fiona



I wake up late. Again. Okay, earlier I woke up to Dex sliding into me and f*cking me with a languid, almost lazy pace. I was sore, and so was he. Not enough to stop either of us. Not until I lost my ever-loving mind, which I do every time he slides into me.

Because his piercing? Hallelujah and praise the brave soul who first thought, I’m gonna adorn my man-crown. Nothing, nothing, on this green Earth is as good as the feeling of Dex’s thick, studded cock pushing in and out of me.

Well, perhaps one thing: witnessing Ethan Dexter come. I swear, I could have an orgasm just watching him, the way his big body starts to quiver, his brows drawing up tight as though he’s in actual pain. But it’s mostly the way he gives himself over to it, pounding into me like he’d die if he stopped, the almost desperate sounds he makes, somewhere between a whimper and a groan.

That this big, strong, normally self-contained man falls apart for me makes me fall a little deeper every time. And I’d wanted him to stay in bed with me. Possibly never leave it.

But annoying Gray began texting and then calling up the stairs, nagging Dex to get his ass up and get ready.

“He’s not going to let this go,” Dex had muttered.

“This is some sort of sick payback, isn’t it?” I flopped onto my back.

“Guys are kind of *s that way.” He sat up with a groan.

So while he showered and went to work out, I slipped back into sleep, a boneless bliss known only to those who have been thoroughly worked over.

As soon as I wake, I want him here. He’s been gone for two hours, and I miss him with a terrible ache that swims through my bones. My stomach should be in knots over my work mess, but instead it’s fluttery with anticipation. I can’t wait to hear his voice, see all those deeply weighted thoughts going on in his agate eyes. I want to feel his solid warmth, touch his body.

God, my hands twitch with the need to wrap themselves around that thick, strong cock of his, to play with the silver piercing and hear him make those low, needy groans.

I have to press my legs together to ease the emptiness there.

All this and it’s only been a few days with him. Already I’m addicted. One hit and he is my drug of choice. And what good will this do when I have to go back to New York?

The ringing of my phone pulls me out of my thoughts.

The caller ID says it’s my co-worker Alice. Which is weird enough that I answer.

“Hey,” Alice’s voice is thin, the sound of traffic loud in the background. “You having fun in San Fran?”

Fun isn’t the word for what I’m having. Super happy lust tornado? Pleasure palace experience of a lifetime?

“No complaints,” I say casually. Which is also a gross understatement. “What’s up?”

I don’t usually get calls from Alice.