Page 63 of The Player + The Pact = I Do

My hair is damp and I’m in a t-shirt and leggings. I’m anything but sexy. “I guess it’s all relative,” I huff out. “You’re used to seeing me in secondhand pantsuits.”

“You’re always sexy.” He places a kiss to my collarbone. Every molecule in my body stands to attention. It’s like he has some kind of code to my body that I didn’t know existed, and with just a few movements—a sweep of his lips, a press of his fingers—I’m unlocked and all his.

I feel his erection against my leg and I’m instantly wet with longing. How is that possible? I’m hungover to Colorado and back and I still want him. His hands slide up my t-shirt and he finds me braless and groans. “Fuck, Jules.” He pushes the t-shirt higher, and I help him take it over my head. He pinches and pulls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and it’s such painful pleasure that my back arches and I cry out.

He releases me and strips off his t-shirt. The skin on his arms and neck and face is so smooth it looks like it’s polished. As he bends over me, I slide my hands over his shoulders and down his front. His chest has a little hair andit makes me giddy—like some kind of biological switch is flicked at the sight of it.

“How’s the hangover?” he asks.

“What hangover?”

He chuckles and leans in for a kiss. He grazes his teeth across my jaw and then dips between my lips, as if he’s tasting me. It’s like he’s trying to torture me. I want his tongue, his cock, his fingers—all of him inside me right now.

I scramble for the waist of his joggers and try to push them down, but my hands find his cock and I reach for it. He twists his hips away and shifts so he’s lying behind me, one hand around my waist, another down the waistband of my leggings.

“You’re not touching me. Not until I’ve had my turn touching you,” he says. He holds me in place as his fingers slip down and between my folds. I want to be better than melting every time he touches me. But I’m not. He strips me of any self-control.

I moan as his fingers circle my clit. I can feel him pressing hard into my ass and I just want him inside of me. “Leo, please,” I say.

“You have such beautiful manners,” he says, with a twist of his hips. “But you don’t get to decide when you touch me, when I touch you, when I slide inside you.” His teeth graze my neck and I whimper. I can’t help it. I’m so overcome with need for him. I circle my hips against his hand, wanting more, trying to steal sensations from his fingers.

With his free hand, he forces my leggings and underwear down. His erection sits against my ass. Hard. Hot. Pulsing. My body shivers with relief. It will happen soon.Soon, soon, a voice inside me chants.

“You feel how hard I am for you?” he whispers in my ear. “What are you doing to me?”

He strips off the rest of my leggings and his joggers so we’re both naked. He sits up and guides me to straddle him. His cock is pointing at the ceiling and he rolls on a condom before guiding it to my entrance.

I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I have the strength to move when he’s inside me.

Slowly, I sit and he slides in, stretching me out, filling me deep. My heart is pounding out of my chest and I’m breathless.

I can’t move. I’m too full. Right on the edge of a cliff.

His fingers find my nipples again and that’s all it takes. I drop my head back as my orgasm spirals through me like it’s the first time I’ve ever come. My legs begin to tremble and my back arches. Leo groans as I come.

“Fuck, Jules. You’re so gorgeous.”

I take a couple of deep breaths as I float back down to earth. He cups my face with his hand and I lean forward, our foreheads touching. “I’m sorry,” I reply. “I don’t usually… This isn’t normal for me.”

“Don’t apologize for coming,” he says. “Don’t apologize. You’re not broken. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

We haven’t moved, but I can still feel him deep inside me. Even though I only just came, I start to shift, moving my hips back and forth in tiny movements.

“Don’t fucking apologize for being so turned on you lose control. You’re safe with me.”

My movements become bigger, faster, and he grips my hips, slowing me down. “We’re in no rush,” he says. “We’re going to fuck all day. There’s no race to the finish line.”

I whimper as he pulls me down firmly, and I bite my bottom lip, reveling in the hardness of him inside me. I don’t know if it’s the feel of him, the idea that he’s going to fuckme all day or that he wants to take his time, but I’m ready for him again. Maybe it’s all of it.

He lifts me up slightly and pulls me down again, bigger movements now but all at his pace. All the way he wants it—but it’s also the way I want it. He knows what I need.

I press my hands against his chest and our bodies move like they’re engineered to work together, his cock pistoning in and out, my hips rocking. Our eyes are locked like we can read each other’s minds.

Then all of a sudden, he grips my hips and forces me back and away from him, leaving me empty.

“Fuck,” he says, his head rolling back onto the sofa. “I’m so close.”

“So quickly?” I arch an eyebrow. “It’s like we’re kids.” I trail a finger down his breastbone and then down the base of his cock. “I like it,” I say.

---