Page 265 of Hateful Games

Intensely ravenous brown eyes gaze at me while he removes his shorts and boxers in one swift motion. His hard cock smacks against his lower abs, rendering me immobile. His patience snaps and he takes over the task of getting me naked.

Once I’m nude, his fingers gently part my drenched slit as they trail the length of my pussy. His ministrations are reverent as they draw pleasure. The slowly building kind. I’m lost in the sensations, eyes closed that I miss him drop to his knees.

They snap open when his morning scruff and soft lips touch my folds.

“Nova,” I whimper.

Our lust-drunk eyes lock.

Throwing my left leg over his shoulder, he murmurs, “A taste to last me the day.”

Then he feasts on my pussy.

Until I’m a sobbing mess.

***

“You never told me if you solved your mystery.”

I glance at Nova’s profile from the passenger seat. Sunglasses hide his expression but I know the mischievous look by heart. The one where he’s curious and amused by my antics.

“I would’ve, if someone hadn’t distracted me.”

The smile around his freshly shaven jaw grows. “Or you could simply ask me.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” I tease. “Besides, I don’t think it’s so bad waking up early.”

“I wonder what’s motivating you.”

“The weather, mostly.”

“In the gym or the shower?”

The memories leave me tingling all over again. “Don’t think so highly of yourself. I can be a morning person if I want to be.”

“So, miracles do happen more than once,” he jokes.

“Ass.”

He just laughs. “Tell me really why you woke up, Rose.”

“I was curious about your morning routine.”

Giving me a surprised yet pleased look, he answers, “It’s nothing special. Boring, really. I go for a morning run, then a workout. Read a newspaper while having breakfast, and then I’m off to work.”

“You may be the only man who reads physical newspapers in this day and age.”

“It’s a habit I got from my grandfather. It still makes me feel closer to him.”

I take his left hand in mine, squeezing softly when I sense the grief in his tone. He intertwines our fingers instead of pulling away.

“I never knew any of mine. They all passed away when I was too young.”

“I’m sorry,” he genuinely says. “My grandfather would’ve loved you. Just like my parents do.”

I smile. “I like your parents too. Your mom already texted me to come for dinner this weekend.”

“Yeah? It seems she’s already forgotten about me because I’m yet to hear from her.”

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