Page 37 of Wicked Player

I shivered beneath him, breathless. My legs hurt from being spread wide enough to take him and the knuckles on my hand hurt from my tight grip on the bedsheets.

We stayed there for a moment until he’d calmed.

He pulled out slowly, one of his large hands at the small of my back. “Let me take care of this and I’ll take care of you. Stay here.”

He was still so bossy, but sweet. The dichotomy of this huge man who had the strength to snap me in two but care to be gentle with me threatened to unravel me.

It’s sex, Elizabeth. Just sex. Just a way to move on. Do not get attached.

I repeated the mantra. It wasn’t the first time I had to tell myself this. More like the hundredth. In fact, I’d done it all weekend whenever my thoughts drifted to our last encounter.

After tonight, I needed to get a rubber band and snap my wrist whenever I got the ridiculous idea this could possibly lead to something more.

This was sex. Hell, I hadn’t even seen him.

But I heard him clearly.

He’d be back for more.

Which mean when he returned, and a warm rag was pressed to my center, I was smiling.

“What’s so funny?”

He didn’t seem angry. “Nothing’s funny. That was really nice.”

“Good. I’m glad it wasreally nicefor you.”

So the brute could tease.

“Yeah,” I sighed as he cleaned me, wiggled as he brushed against my clit, and then he moved to the plug.

I tensed at the feel of his hands on the base, but his other hand went to my back, rubbed large calming circles all over me. “I’ll go slow. Relax.”

I tried. I tried to relax. It should have been easy, but as he tugged it out, everything else tightened, including my sex that should have been well-satisfied. I made a sound of displeasure as it slipped from me and he was rolling me to my back.

“Still want more?” he asked.

“Yes.” My hands went to my face and his warm hand gripped my wrist, tugging it to my stomach.

“No.”

“Please. I want to see you.”

I had to know. Know who this man was who could do all these beautifully wicked things to me and still leave me wanting more.

“No. Not yet.”

Not yet.That meant it would happen. Someday.

I just had to be patient.

“Okay.”

He seemed to hesitate a bit, but then he moved. The bed shifted from his weight and his mouth wasthere, taking what he wanted, hands at my thighs, stretching me wide open for him. He ate me until I was crying out for him, for more, and I came, screaming the name John, knowing it was fake, wishing I could call him by his real name. And as soon as I was done and mindless, without the care he had shown earlier, he stood.

Something soft and cool landed on my stomach. My dress. I covered my body with it, hugging it tight against me.

“You can get dressed after I leave,” he said. “See you soon.”

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