Page 133 of Play Along

“You liked that?”

A smirk lifts on my lips. “I loved it.”

His smile matches mine when he leans down and presses his mouth to mine. His tongue sweeps in and the way it moves has me imagining how it’d glide over a different part of my body.

“What do you need?” he whispers.

“I need you to fuck me.”

Isaiah stills above me.

“What?”

“I. Need. You. To. Fuck. Me.” They’re words I never thought I’d say.

“Tonight?”

“Right now.”

“Ken.” His forehead falls to my chest. “I have been dreaming about the day you might say that to me, but I can’t. Not like this. I’m having a shit night. You leave tomorrow. There’s a lot of emotions going on and I don’t want you to regret it in the morning.”

“I won’t,” I quickly disagree. “I know I won’t regret it.”

He doesn’t believe me, and I don’t blame him. I’ve resisted this for years. From his point of view, it does seem like I suddenly changed my mind. And shit, maybe I did. Maybe everything I learned about him tonight is what I was wishing for from him all along. Maybe now I know his feelings towards me aren’t spurred on by wanting something he can’t have.

“Fine,” I relent. “Then I’ll take your mouth.”

His lips tilt, that devilish, knowing smile he’s mastered over the years. “Where?”

A heat creeps up my cheeks, but it quickly cools when I remember who I’m with. “On my pussy.”

“Fuck,” he growls. “My prim and proper wife did not just say ‘pussy’ to me. You keep talking like that and I’m going to come again.”

I chuckle below him. “I would really love it if we stopped talking altogether and you got to work. Show me what you’ve got, Rhodes.”

He laughs. “You know I like it when you’re a little bit mean to me, Kenny. Makes me want to work harder for you.”

Hand wrapping around his nape, I thread my fingers through his hair, running my nails up his scalp until I get to his crown and push down, leading him down my body.

He chuckles to himself as he scoots back on his knees, finding a comfortable spot between my open legs.

He slowly lifts my dress, pushing it up my thighs. “What color panties am I going to find under here?”

My dress gathers over my middle, the back still pinned under my ass, and I watch as Isaiah’s eyes instantly heat, his nostrils flaring when his attention snags on the apex of my thighs.

“You’re not going to find any at all.”

Sitting back, heels to ass, he doesn’t take his attention off me. He scrubs a big palm over his mouth as he traces every inch of my core with his eyes.

“You weren’t wearing panties this whole time?”

I shake my head no. “It caused lines with my dress.”

“I have no fucking clue what that means, and I don’t care.” He runs the pad of his thumb up my inner thigh, cleaning up my arousal. “Fuck me. You really were dripping, weren’t you?”

“Everywhere.”

“We’ve got to clean you up, baby. You can’t be walking around like this. God, this must fucking ache.”

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