Page 102 of Game Point
My skin flushed further, making it too hot to be under the covers, let alone against another human. But I could not move, not without feeling him brush hard against my back, sending me longing for every inch of contact I could get. I was a starved woman, standing in front of a buffet, trying (and failing) to convince herself she was not hungry.
‘Oh … sorry,’ I managed, my mouth dry. His grip onmy hands loosened, but I didn’t dare let his hands slip away, tightening my own hold on his fingers.
‘Dylan?’ His voice breathless. And at the sound of my name from his mouth, the rasp of his British accent, and a brush along my rear, his hips slowly easing forward, dragging his length along me, I lost the threads of control I’d been clinging to. I arched my back, rubbing myself against him, against the length of him, and he let out a heavy moan.
‘Tell me to stop,’ I whispered, my eyes shut as I moved against him again. Relief washed over me as he matched the movement, grinding up to meet my body. ‘If you don’t want this, tell me to stop.’
‘You know I want you,’ he hissed, grinding harder into my back. ‘You can fucking feel how much I want you.’
A wicked smile curled onto my lips, satisfaction at his permission to keep going. Stopping now felt like trying to halt a freight train. A hand left mine, going to my hips, pulling me into a perfect rhythm against his groin, his cock hardening more with every movement.
I bit my tongue, trying not to moan at the contact, to allow him the knowledge of how desperate I was for him too. Our desperate, heated breath, and the creak of the bed under us filled the air.
‘Fuck, Oliver.’ The words escaped me as he slowed his pace, torturing us both.
‘Tell me,’ he whispered, his hand moving up my body from my hip, finding my hair, brushing it behind my ear before his mouth nipped at my sensitive lobe. He ground up against me again. ‘How badly do you want me?’
‘I need you.’ My heart pounded against my ribcage. Ididn’t dare let myself wonder what any of this meant, if this would change things between us. Or if we’d wake up tomorrow the same people that had climbed into this bed.
‘I want to watch you,’ Oliver said. ‘I’ve seen inside that box and there’s not one night since when I’ve not woken up in a cold sweat from a dream of you fucking yourself with its contents.’
I swore, turned on by the image of him. Alone, his hand dragging down his cock, hard and thinking of me.Only me.
He allowed me to turn around, catching his heated gaze. ‘You have to touch yourself too,’ I said.
‘Like I could help it, watching you.’ He pushed himself out of the bed, turning towards the shelf, the extra inch of height he had on me giving him better access to the box as he retrieved it.
He put it down, his throat bobbing as he slowly moved up the bed. ‘Which one is your favourite?’ His gaze flickering towards me, his voice filled with anguish.
I pushed up to my knees, a devilish smile on my lips. ‘Which do you want me to use?’
His head shook as he admitted on a breathless laugh. ‘Every single one.’
The heat between my thighs only grew hotter. ‘Better get started then.’
I pulled two items out: a small vibrator and a dildo.
His eyes narrowed. ‘Is that sparkly?’
‘Yup,’ I beamed, looking at the clear silicon dildo. ‘It lights up too. I thought you’d like it given theTwilightthing.’
Oliver moved the box out of the way, placing it on the floor. ‘That’s not a thing. I just like the films.’
I pushed back against the headboard to sit upright. Hiseyes burned into me as he lay down on his side at the end of the bed, his head propped up on his arm. His free hand went to his cock, pulling it from his shorts, and gently moving his grip along it. I bit my lip, lost for a moment, fascinated by the movement. He was so fucking hot.
He nodded his head, ‘Touch yourself.’
I kept my eyes on him, sliding down the bed, and turned the vibrator on, easing it inside my pants, holding it to my clit as it buzzed. My other hand went to my breast, teasing my body further.
‘God,’ Oliver worked himself harder, his eyes looking at me with a mix of wonderment and burning lust. ‘You look fucking good.’
Oliver pushed up, peeling his clothes off, giving me a full view of his perfect body. He returned to his position, continuing to fuck himself, his eyes on me.
‘Getting hot are we?’ I teased.
‘I thought I’d give you a better view.’ And what a view it was. His well-sculpted chest was as enjoyable a sight as his playing with his cock was. It took considerable strength not to ease over to him, place my lips on any bare skin, trail down and taste him for myself. I wanted to record this view of him, use it to get myself off. I’d never get out of bed again. I increased the vibrator.
His eyes travelled up my body. ‘Strip for me.’
