Page 124 of Playing Dirty
Thirty-One
Theo
Over the past few months, Madden has proven time and time again, he’s able to stun me speechless. Steal every thought from my brain with his words or actions, leaving me incapable of doing anything but gaping at him in awe. Maybe that’s why, when those words leave his mouth, the only thing I can do is drag him in for a kiss that says everything I’m feeling without actually voicing the words stuck in my mind.
Threewords.
I’ve felt them for weeks, but now they scream in my mind while my tongue rolls and flicks against his. They’re crawling up my throat as I sink my fingers into the dark, silken strands of his hair. They threaten to burst from my chest, straight through my ribcage, as he pulls me tight against him.
So tight, I can feel his heartbeat as if it were my own.
As ifit were calling out to mine.
I pull away, panting harshly against his mouth as a request falls from my lips with so much desire and need, it might very well be a plea.
“Madden, I want you.”
“You have me,” he replies immediately, andfuckit makes my goddamn heart soar.
Even if he’s misunderstanding what I meant.
“I mean…inside me.”
Equal parts lust and fear rise to the surface in his gaze, battling for dominance when he utters, “Right now?”
I nod, anticipation zipping through me like lightning. With all the prepping we’ve done—experiencing how good he can make me feel—I’ve never been more sure of anything. Never been more sure ofhim.
But from the way his brows remain knit together, he’s still not convinced.
“You’re sure you want your first time to be here? Like this?”
His clear hesitation is enough to give me pause too.
“Do you…not want to?” I ask, my gaze searching his face for the answer before he can even give one.
A wry chuckle slips out, and he shakes his head. “I’ve never wanted anything so much. But you deserve more than a quickie in a theatre.”
God, this man.
Why does he have to dismantle me every time he opens his mouth? Why does he have to shred my heart with little moments of gentleness and compassion?
I’m already in love with him. Yet he continues to give me reasons to fall even deeper.
The fingers still woven through his hair skim along his skull as I whisper, “I don’t care where it is as long as it’s with you.”
His teeth scrape along his bottom lip, and he nods a couple times before a sinful, devious smirk slowly crosses his face.
“Well, I guess it’s lucky Idohave lube. Otherwise you really would be waiting for me to fill your ass until we could get home.”
Yeah, there’s no way in hell I’d be able to make it until then.
I don’t know what it is about him, but I can never get enough. Even after spending hours touching and tasting every inch of his body, I find myself still craving more. Sometimes I wonder if I’d even be satiated by crawling inside his chest, tucking myself behind his ribs, and truly becoming part of him.
At this point, I doubt it.
Nothing will ever be enough. But maybe that’s exactly what love is.
Madden places a hard, bruising kiss to my lips before stepping back. His fingers link with mine, pulling me with him until he drops into one of the seats on the aisle. Lifting his hips, he pushes his jeans and underwear down to his ankles, and the second his cock springs free, my stomach clenches. He’s already hard; the red, angry tip surrounded by a taut sheath of foreskin that makes my mouth water on sight.
