Page 103 of Double Fault

“Bastard.”

His whole body rumbles with laughter. It’s deep and masculine and entirely intoxicating. “That wasn’t nice.”

Despite the heat gathering in my core, I can’t help but sass back. “You’re not being nice either.”

“Fine.” He pulls his hand away. “I don’t have to touch you.”

Whimpering, I clutch his wrist and press his palm to my wet skin again. “Don’t you dare.”

“Then tell me.” He nips at my earlobe. “What do you want? You wanted me in here for a reason, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” There’s no point in denying it.

I turn carefully, causing the water to slosh again, and place my palms on his thighs.

His muscles jerk, and his breath hitches, but he cocks his head, brow arched, as if to saytake what you want.

Legs draped over his thighs, I inch closer. It’s the most delicious kind of torture. His cock is right there. All it would take is a gentle rock of my hips, and his tip would be inside me.

He lays his arms on the outside of the tub, the veins running along them even more prominent than usual. His hands flex, as if he’s tapping into his willpower to keep himself from grabbing me. From slamming me onto his cock and fucking up into me.

Slowly, I slide my right hand up his chest and around the back of his neck. His eyes take in my movements, dark with lust. When I lean in to kiss him, he closes the distance quickly, his reflexes razor sharp, the move reminding me he’s a superstar athlete.

Kissing Noah is unlike kissing anyone else. He’s careful and calculated but so damn passionate. I get lost in the connection, forgetting that I’m the one who’s supposed to be in control.

It’s frightening how easily I lose myself in him.

His fingers find the globes of my ass beneath the water and he presses me closer.

It’s all too much.

Him.

The heat of the bath.

The way in which I need him.

Overwhelmed barely begins to cover it.

“This isn’t what I planned.” He peppers kisses down my neck.

“Don’t care,” I pant, angling my head to the side to give him full access.

His cock brushes my clit, and I cry out. “Noah.” His name is a whine, a prayer, a plea for him to never let me go.

“You’re so fucking beautiful when you scream my name. You know that?”

“Please,” I beg as his fingers feather over my sides. “Please.”

“Please, what? What do you need from me?”

“Forget the bath. I need you to fuck me.”

He nips my bottom lip. “That so?”

“Y-Yes.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Don’t make me beg.”

Laughter rumbles from him. “Oh, but darling, it’s so fun.”

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