Page 93 of Fake Game

He tries to pull back, but I lock my ankles tighter around his thighs. I feel his responding smirk as he whispers, “So greedy.” His hips buck again, and I let out a soft sigh as his length presses against my core.

Heat pools, and I want nothing more than a release from the pressure that has been building.

“More,” I moan.

Jackson kneads my breast and begins rocking his hips rhythmically against me as I squirm against him, desperate for pleasure. His lips trail down the side of my neck, peppering me with hot kisses down to my shoulder. His tongue slides across the length of my collarbone, and my pussy clenches at the sensation.

“More,” I beg, my voice all breathy. “Please.”

Jackson’s hand leaves my breast, and I let out a whine of protest until I feel it trail down my stomach, coming to a stop at the band of my shorts. My hand tangles in his hair as my hips lift off the bed, encouraging him to explore further.

“So hungry for me, aren’t you?” His hand slides over the fabric of my shorts and cups my center, two fingers pressing against my entrance. “Fuck, I can feel how wet you are.” His head dips, forehead resting on my chest as his fingers rub me through the fabric.

Holy hell.

I can feel myself becoming wetter and wetter, and when he presses another biting kiss to my lips, I all but start grinding myself against him.

“Dammit, Deer.”

Jackson dips his hand beneath my waistband, and his fingers slip between my folds, gliding against the clear proof of how much I want him.

It feels so fucking good, but it’s not enough.

I shift my hips, pushing myself against him, chasing his touch.

Jackson leans back, and we stare at each other, chests heaving. He removes his hand from my pussy, and I’m about to complain until I see his lips curve up in a smirk, head tilting slightly.

“Open up for me, sweetheart.”

Lost in his eyes, I do exactly as he says.

He slips his fingers into my mouth. “Now suck. Taste how much your greedy pussy wants me. How much you want me.”

My lips close around his fingers, and my tongue presses up to suck as he slowly pulls back out. I taste myself on him, my salty need for him clear as day.

“That’s my girl, so obedient.”

I smile at the praise.

“Can you follow the rest of my instructions?”

I nod because words won’t work right now.

“Good.” He leans back on his knees, eyes raking over me like I’m a meal he is about to devour. “I want you to reach down and remove your underwear.” My hands scramble to lift the hem of my T-shirt before hooking into the band of my shorts. “Ah—just your underwear. Keep the shorts on.” I frown momentarily but do as he says, hooking my legs one at a time through the material.

I hold the pink satin in my hand, an obvious dark spot marring the center.

“Thank you.” He plucks the thong from my hand. “Now, I want you to go to sleep.”

I blink at him a few times. “I’m sorry, what?”

“And don’t think about touching yourself or making yourself come. I’ll know.” He pushes off the bed.

“Jackson.”

“I’m serious. You said you could follow my instructions, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” I say slowly.

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