Page 39 of Play With Me
She struggles beneath me until her hands find the ground, and she braces herself. “Just fuck me already!” she snarls.
Gone is the kitten. My little hellcat is back.
“I don’t think I will.” I thrust forward, the tip of my cock hitting her clit. Her body jerks underneath me, surely over-sensitized and ready to be stuffed. I can feel her clench as she tries to move her hips just enough so I’ll slip into her.
I’m trying to burn the image of my length sliding against her silky skin, her lips so pink and wet as they part around my girth. I can hear her breath hitching, her little moans every time she thinks she’s captured me. The little sighs of defeat when she realizes she hasn’t.
“Fuck, it was like your pussy was made for my cock.” I say the words without thinking. They are full of ownership—possessive and feral andreal.
“Then let me feel all of you.” She sounds so sweet, but I know she’s just trying to get her way.
Leaning forward, I push more of my weight on her, enjoying her cries of pleasure. “You’re gonna give me one more.”
Her head thrashes from side to side, hips moving erratically underneath me, chest rising and falling rapidly as it hangs off the bed. “Tell me you want me,” she whispers.
“I think you know how bad I fucking want you. I’ve never wanted anyone as bad as I want you. You’re like a drug I can’t quit. One that’s never going to leave my system.” I kiss her sternum, right between her heaving breasts, before picking up my pace.
I don’t wait for her to come before I’m shooting my cum all over her. The long, thick ropes paint her upper stomach and tangle over her nipples. A stream makes it past her chest and coats her cheek as she lifts her head to watch with wide eyes as I debase her body.
Whether she got off again or not, I don’t know. I don’t enjoy the aftermath of my climax, instead getting up to pull her onto the bed and release her from the cuffs. She stares at me as I lean over her, gently wiping my cum off her face to smear it over her lips. “Did you mean it?” she asks against my fingers before licking them.
Slowly, I nod. “Yeah, I meant it.”
Carmela
Anders’ eyes dart to my mouth as I continue to lick up the mess he’s making on my lips. I feel sated and full, even though I’m empty. Something else fills me that I haven’t felt in years—something warm and light, yet crushing all at once.
He just made me his bitch, but I’m too satisfied to care right now.
His hand is warm as he wipes my sweaty hair from my face. “Are you okay?”
I hate the goofy grin that pulls at my lips. Sex makes people so stupid. Turning my head, I try to hide it in my hand, sitting up from where he has me lying across his lap. “Mmhmm.”
Whatever he’s about to say next is lost as the door opens, and Luca steps in, shutting it behind him andslamming his fist on the speaker button to cut off the sound linking us to the hall outside. “So, you’ve replaced me then, is that it? Couldn’t fuck me because you’re involved withhimnow?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Luca. How many times do I have to tell you? We. Aren’t. Dating.” I don’t even look at him as I crawl out of Anders’ lap to pick up what’s left of my dress. He did a thorough job ruining it. There’s nothing left to put back on. Not even a scrap to cover me until I get back to my office.
“We may not be dating, Carmela, but Iwasyour regular fuck before this jackass came into the picture. I think that deserves a little respect,” Luca warns. He’s never so much as raised his voice to me before, and if this were any other timebeforeAnders, it would have turned me on.
Now, it just pisses me the fuck off.
Frowning, I find Anders’ discarded suit jacket and slip it over my naked—and downright filthy—body before turning to face him. Anders has gotten off the bed and tucked himself back into his pants, watching Luca warily. The large man only has heated eyes for me, though.
Eyes filled with so much anger, I swear I can see flames in his umber orbs.
Anders’ jacket is big enough to cover me like a mini dress, and I pull it around me as I approach Luca. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
My apology catches both men off guard. Luca blinks, his brow furrowing while Anders mutters, “Seriously?”
Luca watches my hand as I reach out and lay it on his arm, giving his bicep a quick squeeze. “You’re absolutely right, Luca. You deserve better than the way I’ve treated you. I know how you feel, and I’m sure what I just did was hard to watch. I didn’t do it to hurt you. I promise.”
I speak to him slowly and calmly, like trying to soothe a child. His temper cools, the anger draining from his gaze as distress fills them. “I just don’t understand why you changed your mind. What we had was good.”
“What we had was never going to be long-term. And these letters showing up with the threats…it makes the most sense to have Anders be the one performing with me.” I drop my hand from his arm, and he watches it fall dejectedly.
“The point of him being here is to find out who’s threatening you. It was supposed to be easier to perform with me instead,” he mutters quietly.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Anders slant his head and make a humming sound. I catch it, too—Luca’s words are concerning, given the circumstances, and for the first time since the letters began, I wonder if thereshouldbe a reason to add him to the list of suspects.