Page 171 of The Wrong Play

His hands found my hips, dragging me the rest of the way into him, his body a furnace against mine. His grip was firm butcareful, like he was fighting himself, like the line between anger and something deeper was thinning with every second.

“You don’tgetto do that to me, Riley,” he murmured, his forehead dropping to mine. His breath fanned across my lips, hot and uneven. “I’m always going to come after you.”

That was another difference. Callum had chased control, keeping me caged in shadows, but Jace—Jace chasedme, refusing to let me disappear, refusing to let me believe I was anything less than his entire world.

I trembled in his hold, every part of me caught between wanting to fight and wanting to fall.

“Tell me you get it,” he breathed thickly. His fingers curled tighter at my waist, his body practically vibrating against mine. “Tell me you understand.”

I met his eyes, searching the fire in them, the wreckage, the need. My heart pounded, my skin burned, but I nodded.

“I understand,” I whispered.

His lips parted, a shaky breath slipping free.

And then, he kissed me.

Hard.

Jace didn’t give me space to hesitate, he didn’t give me time to second-guess. His mouth captured mine with fierce possession, hot and consuming, his teeth grazing my bottom lip before he soothed the sting with a slow, deliberate stroke of his tongue. His body pressed into mine, solid and unyielding, pinning me back against the wall with a heat that sent shivers cascading down my spine.

“You’re mine,” he rasped, his voice thick with something dark, something desperate, vibrating against my lips. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me flush against him, and I felt him—allof him—hard, insistent, undeniable. A fire ignited low in my belly, a need so sharp it left me breathless.

“Jace,” I gasped, but he didn’t let me speak. Didn’t let me run.

“Say it,” he demanded, his fingers slipping beneath my shirt, the rough calluses on his palms dragging over my bare skin, setting me ablaze. “Say you’re mine.”

I sucked in a ragged breath, my head tilting back as his mouth trailed down my jaw, his teeth scraping the sensitive spot beneath my ear. He didn’tneedme to say it—he already knew—but still, he wanted to hear it.

I didn’t answer. Not yet. Maybe because some small, reckless part of me wanted to make him prove it.

His grip tightened, his hands firm but not rough, not cruel—just claiming. “You don’t run from me,” he murmured, his voice softer now, but no less resolute. He traced patterns against my stomach, dipping lower, teasing, testing my resolve. “You don’t leave. You don’t ever leave.”

I shuddered as his hands moved lower, skimming the waistband of my jeans. A warning. A promise.

And then, just as I opened my mouth to reply, Jace lifted me, carried me away from the wall, and tossed me onto the bed. My breath hitched, my body sinking into the mattress as he loomed over me, eyes dark and unreadable, his chest rising and falling with deep, controlled breaths.

My heart pounded as he dragged his soaking wet hoodie and shirt over his head, the muscles in his arms flexing, his tattoos shifting with every movement. “You think I’d ever let you go?” he murmured, shaking his head like the thought itself was absurd. “You think I could?”

I didn’t answer because we both knew the truth.

I whimpered, heat pooling low as his tongue traced my throat, his grip tight and alive. He released my wrists and then tore at my jeans, yanking them down with a roughness that stole my breath. I kicked them off, exposed under his stare, and hegroaned, low…primal, his eyes raking over me like I was his to devour.

His body was a wall of muscle and intent as he climbed over me, and his mouth crashed into mine again, fierce and unrelenting, while his hands roamed—gripping my thighs, spreading me wide. “You don’t get to leave,” he snarled again as his fingers slid between my legs, and he found me wet and aching. I arched, a cry ripping out as he teased me, brushing softly against my clit as I gasped for more. “This is mine. You’re mine.”

“Jace—” I cried, but he didn’t ease up as he plunged two fingers inside me, curling them hard. My hips bucked, pleasure spiking fast and brutal, and he smirked victoriously.

“That’s it,” he muttered, pumping deeper, his thumb circling my clit with merciless precision. “Feel me.”

I broke, my orgasm crashing through me in a flood of heat and light, my body clenching around him. He didn’t stop, he kept going, dragging it out until I was shaking, raw, clawing at his shoulders. “Jace, please…”

“Please, what?” he soothed, pulling his hand free only to drop his mouth there, his tongue diving into my core, licking me open. I screamed and fisted the sheets while he consumed me relentlessly, pushing me toward another edge.

“I, I can’t…” My voice splintered, but he didn’t care. He sucked on my clit harder, sending me spiraling again. The second orgasm hit like a storm, leaving me trembling, breathless, tears leaking from my eyes.

Jace climbed up my body until his face was only inches from mine, his cock pressing against me, thick and demanding. “You don’t decide,” he said in a low, lethal voice as he pushed in—slow at first, then deep, filling me until I couldn’t breathe. “Idecide. AndI’mkeeping you.”

That was another difference between Jace and Callum. Unlike with Callum, with Jace…I wanted to be kept.

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