Page 17 of Make the Play

Her breath hitches as I slide a finger beneath the lace, just enough to tease. She moans softly, her body arching into my touch, and I swear to God I could come just from having her like this.

I stroke deliberately slow, dragging my fingers over her, keeping the pressure light where I know she wants it the most. She lets out a sharp, frustrated little sound.

The corner of my mouth curves. “That feel good, baby?”

Her fingers tighten in my hair, yanking my head back just enough to glare.

“Fuckingtouch me, Walton.”

I hum low, dragging my teeth down the column of her throat just to feel her shudder beneath me again.

“Say please.”

Her lips part, breathing ragged as she stills, and I see it—the flicker of hesitation, that war inside her to double down. But to my absolute delight, she loses the battle. Or maybe she never wanted to win.

“Please.”

I reward her instantly with a deep, sinful stroke. My fingers dip inside her, stretching and filling her as she cries out. Her nails rake down my chest, and I groan as I watch her, completely transfixed as I work her open.

“Fuck,” she gasps, tilting her head and exposing her throat like a goddamn offering. “Chase—”

I smirk at my first name on her lips, swiping my thumb over her clit.

“Yeah, baby?”

She sobs out my name again, and I nearly fucking come in my pants.

I need her. Hauling her into my arms, I carry her across the room and drop her onto the bed. She laughs as she lands, all wild hair and flushed skin and wicked, breathless grins. I’ve never seen anything so goddamn beautiful.

Ripping my shirt off, I whip my belt free and drop it to the floor with a sharp metallic clang. Zoe props herself on her elbows, watching me, letting her gaze roam over my chest and down my abs to where I’m gripping my cock.

She bites her lip, and suddenly I’m moving again.

I dip down onto the bed, and she smoothly moves across the mattress, all lithe limbs and liquid silk, eyes locked on mine ready to eat me alive.

She settles in my lap, straddling me, dress pooled around her thighs. And then, with those sharp eyes locked on mine, she slowly tugs at the ribbons on her shoulders, lifts it over her head and tosses it to the floor.

My brain disintegrates as I drink her in, noting a barbell through one of her nipples. No bra. Just soft, golden skin and curves so perfect I almost forget how to breathe. She knows it, too. And she’s eating up every second of my stunned silence, her lips curling because she’s just figured out she’s my biggest weakness.

And she’s right.

I swallow hard and school my expression, dragging my hands up her ribs and covering her tits, kneading them rougher than I mean to. She inhales sharply, her pupils dilating just enough to make my cock twitch.

Her fingers trail up my chest, skimming over my shoulders to roughly grip my jaw, and I let her.

For about three seconds.

Then I flip her onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head, her sharp little gasp shooting straight to my cock.

“That turn you on, sweetheart?”

Her smirk is deadly slow.

“Why don’t you find out?”

Very fucking gladly.

My mouth drags down her throat as I let go of her wrists, teeth grazing the sensitive skin beneath her jaw, feeling her breath hitch as I suck on a nipple, the way her body lifts into me.

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