Page 82 of Playing Pretend

“You rocked that sweet pussy against my thigh until you came undone in a place far more illuminated and scandalous than this.” He presses his thigh between mine, adding the slightest maddening friction to my clit.

I bite the inside of my cheek. Stab my nails into my palms behind his neck.

Nothing helps. I’m too close.

The throb is relentless. I gasp, my core clenching, my back arching… Then the vibrations stop and all those explosive sensations subside.

I groan. “Why did you turn it off?”

“You’ll appreciate the release more when you’ve earned it,” he promises against my ear.

No, I won’t. Because if this continues any longer, I’ll be a puddle on the floor in front of my colleagues. “Quit dragging this out.”

“You’re not enjoying the journey?” His thigh presses harder between mine, teasing my clit. “Your needy gasps are the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. And those nails digging into my skin… Goddamnit, Piper, I want them scarring my back.”

I’ve never been described as sexy in my entire life. Not by lovers. Not by friends. But hearing those words makes my stomach flip in ways I wish it wouldn’t. Exciting, addictive ways that will only cause more complications.

He nuzzles the side of my face, his lips teasing a breath away from my skin. “Can’t you imagine having your nails scarring my shoulders while your mouth is smashed to mine as you climax?”

I can imagine every part of it.

Our sweat-slicked skin.

Our panted breaths.

His hard length.

“I want my cum inside you, Piper. I want to taste myself between your thighs.”

Fuck.

The visual pushes me closer to the edge without any need for vibration. My body is one big mess of need.

“Beg me to make you come,” he murmurs, “and I’ll grant your wish.”

No. I won’t.

“Beg, little Pip, and I won’t leave you wanting.”

My limbs tremble under the weight of dopamine flooding my system. Under the harsh severity of biting need.

“Beg,” he growls. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, wanting to deny him,needingit. But I can’t. I’m too weak. Every inch of me quakes with desire, my panties entirely decimated with lust.

“Please.” I whimper. “Please, Rome.

“That’s my good girl.”

The praise in his tone is a killer. It slays me as one hand slides from my back, delving into his pocket, and level five shoves me over the edge.

I collapse farther into him, trying to hide, but he pulls back to claim my chin with a strong grip, one arm still holding me tight as I come undone.

He stares at me while I fight not to scream my pleasure. While my pussy flutters and my heart burns.

The intensity in his eyes enslaves me, the delirious glaze of lust so exquisitely rich as my core throbs over and over again.

I want him to kiss me. I want his mouth to punish mine while I come. But all he does is stare, barely blinking, not missing one second of my undoing.

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