Page 51 of Power Play
“Murphy…”
“Let me,” I whisper.
I push the silk down gently, watching it pool at her feet. She stepsout of it, now standing in just a lace strapless bra and knickers; dark green, to match the dress. I take my time looking at her, letting her feel how much I want her. How much this means.
Her hands go to the hem of my shirt, but I beat her to it, pulling it over my head in one swift motion. She skims her palms over my chest, like she’s mapping out new territory. My hands come to rest under her arse, in one smooth movement, I lift her and she wraps herself around my body.
As I walk us down the hallway, I pepper her chest and neck with slow kisses. We end up in her bed. Sheets cool against our overheated skin, the room dim and quiet. The city hums faintly outside, but in here, it’s just us.
I run my hands over her body, memorising it all over again. The slope of her waist. The curve of her hip. The little scar on her left knee she never talks about.
She watches me with those dark, clever eyes that always see more than I expect. “You’re staring,” she says.
“Yeah.”
“You gonna make it weird?”
“Already have.”
That gets a soft laugh from her, but it dies into something quieter when I press my mouth to her collarbone. She arches slightly, one hand in my hair, the other trailing slow lines down my back.
When I slide inside her, it’s not rough or fast. It’s slow. Intimate. Like every movement is a question and an answer.
She wraps her legs around me, breath catching on a soft gasp. “Murph…”
I kiss her jaw, her neck, her mouth. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” And I do. In every way that counts.
We move together as though we’re trying to find the exact moment this stopped being pretend. Her hands roam my shoulders, my face, like she can’t quite believe I’m real.
“You’re stunning,” I tell her.
She scoffs against my mouth. “You’re delusional.”
“No. Not about this.”
And then she’s kissing me again, slower this time, her hips rising to meet mine, like she wants to carve this moment into both of us.
Everything condenses to the heat between us. The way she whispers my name. The way her walls tighten around me. The way I feel like I’m home for the first time in my life.
When she comes, she buries her face in my neck, muffling the softmoan that vibrates through both of us. And I follow close behind, burying myself deeper, holding on tighter, giving her everything I have.
We lie there in the quiet after. Our bodies tangled. Our breaths synced.
I feel her fingers draw slow patterns on my chest. “I’ve never had sex like that,” she says, barely a whisper.
“Me neither.”
She laughs softly. “You’re such a liar.”
“I’m not. I’ve had a lot of sex, yeah. But not like this.”
She goes quiet for a beat. Then, “So what the hell do we do now?”
I tighten my arm around her. “I think we stop pretending.”
Sophie lifts her head, her eyes wide. “Murphy…”
“I’m serious,” I say, heart thumping. “This isn’t a game to me anymore. I don’t want to play boyfriend. I want tobeyours.”
