Page 48 of Grave Games

Maybe I was a closet exhibitionist.

“There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to have you, you know that?” He yanked the sides of my shirt aside, then pushed a bra strap off my shoulder and exposed a breast from its lacy cup so he could bring it to his mouth. “Just think what I did to get you. If anyone tries to take you from me, or if you try to hit the eject button and leave me, I’ll move heaven and earth to get you back. You understand that now, yeah? You’re not leaving me.”

“I hear you.” I certainly wasn’t going to leave him now when he had the fire of desire building to a fever pitch, and the man had barely even touched me.

As if reading my mind, he skimmed a hand down to my naked thigh, caressing its inner flesh for a few tantalizing moments as if delighted by its crushed-silk softness. Then he moved up to my hidden channel, and I felt more than saw his wicked smile.

“So wet,” he murmured against my skin. I shivered as his breath feathered over my breast. “Always so wet for me. Are you always like this, or is this what I do to you?”

A semblance of pride came to the fore. “Is that gloating I hear? Because gloating is so not sexy.”

“I’m gloating because my woman is sexy, and I want to know.” His finger gently flicked against my clit, making me gasp. “Are you always like this, or is it me? Tell me.”

Part of me didn’t want to say it out loud. “It’s… it’s you.”

Another flick. Another gasp. “Do you know why you’re like that with me?” Another flick. This time I moaned.

“No.”

“Because you love me, Shy girl. And you want the man you love.” He flicked, then circled, my slick heat making the friction almost unbearable. I whimpered his name, grinding feverishly against him as the pleasure became almost painful. “You want the man you love to be inside you, don’t you, Shy? Say it out loud.”

I was losing it, my will dissolving into that mindless, airless realm where only sweet rapture existed. “I want the man I love… Oh,God.”

He rewarded me with faster circling. “Who’s the man you love?”

I was close. So close. “I told you.”

“Who’s the man you love, Shiloh?”

For a heartbreaking moment his hand stilled, his message coming through loud and clear. If I didn’t say what he wanted me to say, he was officially hands-off. As far as I was concerned, that would be a tragedy.

“You are.” The words dragged out of me as need overpowered the cold logic telling me to stay away from him. I couldn’t, not when I needed his touch so badly it felt like I’d die without it. “You’re the man I love.”

“Damn right I am.” His smile was something I was sure I’d never forget even on my deathbed—a masterpiece of male triumph and vast relief all rolled into one. Then he moved, gripping my hands in one of his, laid me back on the desk after pushing the wireless keyboard out of the way, and thrust into me.

“Like coming home.” Dimly his words registered, because my brain had decided to tune everything out that wasn’t the feel of his cock being absorbed into the tight, wet confines of my body. “Every time I get inside you, it’s like coming home to the one place I belong. I never want to leave you.”

I knew that feeling—a feeling of rightness. Of completeness. It was what I felt whenever I was with him, and it was addictive as hell.

“Romeo.” I heard his name on my lips even as the pleasure that had been building suddenly began a dizzying, impossible climb. “Are you becoming addicted to me?”

“No.”

I nearly shattered with the rush of disappointment.

“I’m already addicted.” He surged into me, so powerfully the desk moved. “Thoroughly.” Another insane thrust, our bodies hitting, my world rocking. “Utterly.” Again he plunged, pushing me right up to the precipice of madness. “Addicted.”

The pleasure abruptly piled in on itself, imploding like a collapsed star before it went supernova. For a breathless moment I hung in euphoric oblivion before the explosion of pure ecstasy hit. I had just enough awareness to muffle my cries against his mouth even as his own climax hit him. In that moment of perfect shared bliss, I realized he wasn’t the only one who was addicted, and I was probably in serious trouble.

As he at last collapsed on to me, I couldn’t find it in me to care.

It took several minutes for me to come back down to earth. When I did, I realized my hands were caressing over his back in a soothing rhythm that calmed us both.

“As good as that was,” I said, not at all surprised that I sounded soft and shellshocked, “I’m not a fan of you wearing all these clothes.” I plucked at his shirt for emphasis. “I prefer feeling all of you with all of me.”

“Same.” At last he lifted his head, and the devilish little lights dancing in his eyes made my heart spin. “See how much we have in common? You just can’t fight chemistry like that.”

“We certainly have something, I’ll give you that.”

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