Page 112 of Vicious Games

Her eyes darken, her pupils blown wide. She watches me unravel with every stroke, torturously slow and precise. I’m so wound up that I start doing math in my head just to stay in the game.

Then she grabs my chin, pulling my face down until our eyes lock. “Stay here,” she commands softly. “With me.”

My breath halts again, shocked that she knew exactly what I was doing.

I nod, unable to speak, and the sly little smile playing on her lips nearly undoes me completely.

“Are you here with me?” she asks, urging me to be vocal with my longing and desire.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” I choke out on a groan.

Frankie grins as if she’d won something, and fuck if that triumphant, little smile doesn’t slay me more.

She thinks she’s winning… And maybe she is because she’s sure won me. I’m hers, utterly and completely, even if she hasn’t figured out the depth of that truth yet.

Her grip tightens just enough to make me twitch in her palm, and I hiss through my teeth, “Jesus, Frankie…”

“Too much?” she asks, biting her bottom lip as if it were the most innocent thing in the world.

“You’re evil,” I growl, pressing my forehead against hers, the heat between us practically combusting.

“And you like it.”

She’s not wrong. Being tortured by her is the best fucking feeling in the world.

Her strokes grow bolder, slower, her delicate fingers squeezing my girth in such a way that my knees threaten to give. I brace myself, one hand on the wall behind her, the other fisting the poor excuse of a t-shirt she has on.

“Frankie, I swear…” I pant, desperate to keep control. But control is a thing of the past now. She’s stolen it, wrecked it, tossed it to the wind with a single forbidden touch.

I press my lips against her neck, moaning into her skin as she works me over, comfortably familiar with every part of me.

“You’re gonna kill me,” I mutter into her throat.

“No,” she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m just going to ruin you a little.”

Fuck if she hasn’t already. My hips jerk forward, instincts taking over, unable to stop myself from coming on her hand.

“Fuck,” I groan as my teeth sink into her shoulder, her surprised high pitch whimper only prolonging my release. I’m breathing heavily when I lift my head to look at the woman who nearly knocked me to my knees.

Frankie’s blue, stormy eyes look wild and fucking breathtaking as she lifts her hand just to inspect her work. I hold my breath, my whole body shaking with nervous energy as she raises her palm to her mouth, her tongue shyly sticking out to taste me. When her eyes close shut just to relish my essence, I’m fucking done for. My hand shoots out, grabbing her wrist, halting her movements, her eyelids sliding open in confusion.

“I’m done,” I rasp, eyes burning into hers. “It’s your turn.”

Before she can react, I lift her effortlessly and toss her onto the bed. She takes an uneven breath as she scrambles back against the pillows, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“Lucky—”

“Shh,” I murmur, crawling over her until I’m straddling her thighs. “Now it’s my turn to get a taste.”

She gasps as I slide my hands under her oversized t-shirt and raise it up over her soft belly. Her thighs part for me instinctively, and I kiss a torturous, slow trail down her stomach, my fingers hooking around her panties and pulling them down with maddening leisure.

She lifts her hips to help me, trembling now, her breath shallow, her eyes never leaving mine.

“You don’t have to—”

“Frankie,” I cut her off, dragging my mouth along her inner thigh. “Shut that beautiful mouth of yours and let me eat you out. Iwantto.”

I settle between her legs, kneeling as if she were something sacred, as if worshiping her is the only holy act worth a damn. My hands grip her thighs, spreading her open for me, and then I taste her.

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