Page 225 of Make the Play

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he mutters. “I missed this. Missedyou.”

His grip tightens on my thighs, spreading me open wider as his tongue flicks and circles, again and again until my entire body tightens, everything pulling taut like a wire ready to snap.

“Chase—fuck—”

“I know,” he groans. “Come for me, baby. Right here on my tongue.”

I fist my hands in his hair, my knees wobbling as his tongue circles my clit, then flattens and presses hard. He’s relentless, alternating pressure and pace like he knows exactly what will ruin me.

I break, loud and sudden and breathless. My hands tangle in his hair, and I ride the wave as he keeps going, keeps licking me through it like he can’t get enough.

When he finally stands, his mouth glistening and eyes black with want, he drags the back of his hand across his mouth and stares at me.

“Still think I should take off my pants?” he rasps.

“If you do,” I pant, tugging him toward the bed, “I’m not responsible for what happens next.”

We stumble onto the mattress, soaked clothes hitting the floor with wet slaps. I crawl backward up the mattress, my body humming, hair clinging to my face and neck, and he follows, eyes locked on me like he’s never going to look away again.

“You’re dripping,” he says, voice husky, almost dazed.

I raise a brow, breathless and high. “You gonna fuck me or just stare at me like I’m your favorite meal?”

“I can multitask.” He crawls over me, kissing up my ankle to my calf, the inside of my thigh, taking his time like I’m something he gets to unwrap.

When he reaches my breast, he pauses and groans, his gaze dropping to the glint of metal.

“Still the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, then he mouths over it, tongue flicking and teasing the barbell until my whole body arches off the bed.

“Fuck,” I gasp. “You’re obsessed.”

“Damn right I am.” His teeth graze the other side, sucking just hard enough to make me whimper.

“You’re very dramatic.”

“You’re very fucking perfect.”

He groans as his fingers slip between my legs, finding me soaked and ready.

“How do you want it, Zo?”

I grab his face, pull him down until our foreheads touch, breath mingling between us.

“I want you to fuck me like you love me.”

His breath shudders out of him, and he doesn’t smile, doesn’t even tease. Just gives me a look as though he thinks I hung the goddamn stars.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes. “That’s the only way I know how.”

And then he’s kissing me. Hard, then slow. So full of everything I didn’t realize I was aching for, and now that I’ve said it, he’ll never stop.

His hips slot between mine, his body hot and solid and steady. He lines himself up, mouth brushing my ear as he moves closer.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he breathes, voice thick and broken, “like I’ve been waiting my whole goddamn life for you to let me.”

He thrusts deep, and my back arches, a gasp torn from my chest.

“And this is how I’ll say it,” he pants, driving deeper. “I love you. I see you. I fuckingchooseyou.”

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