Page 30 of The Wrong Play

Fuck. My grip tightened, my self-control slipping like sand through my fingers. I yanked her dress up further, sliding my hands over her bare ass as I pushed her forward until her hips pressed into the counter. My palm flattened against her stomach, holding her there as I ground against her, both of us gasping at the contact.

Her breath was ragged, and mine wasn’t much better. I could feel her heart pounding, I could feel the way her body trembled under my hands. My fingers dipped even lower, teasing, circling, feeling her heat.

Her fingers dug into my shoulders as I lifted her, turning her around as her legs instinctively wrapped around my waist. The lock clicked as someone tried to get into the room, but I barely registered the sound over the blood roaring in my ears, over theway she arched into me like she’d been waiting for this just as much as I had.

Like maybe—just maybe—she felt this thing crackling between us too.

“You’re unbelievable,” I murmured against her lips, my breath shaky.

She let out a choked laugh, her teeth grazing my lower lip before pulling back just enough to meet my gaze. “You say that now,” she whispered.

I didn’t understand what she was saying, but it was hard to concentrate on deeper meanings when her lips were swollen from my kiss and she looked like she might die if I didn’t get inside her. I swore I felt something snap inside my chest when she locked eyes with me, something visceral and dark and possessive.

“I don’t need your name to know this is something special,” I rasped, rolling my hips into hers, feeling the way she shuddered at the contact. “Something once in a lifetime. Do you feel it too?”

Her lips parted, her breath catching as her nails scraped against the back of my neck. Her body responded before her words could catch up, grinding against me, chasing the friction, the heat. I gritted my teeth, pressing my forehead to hers. “Yes,” she finally whispered.

“I’m going to ruin you for all other men,” I told her, a challenge in my voice like I was daring her to argue with me.

A sharp inhale. “Then do it,” she answered.

I didn’t need more of an invitation than that.

I spun, setting her down on the edge of the counter, knocking over a soap dispenser in the process, but neither of us cared. My hands gripped her thighs as I stepped between them. She grabbed my belt, yanking it loose, and I swore under my breath as her hands dipped lower, fingers skimming over me.

I was already hard. Already aching. Already so fucking gone for her, it didn’t make sense.

She dragged her lips over my jaw, her tongue flicking out to tease just beneath my ear, and my control slipped another inch. My fingers slipped under the hem of her dress, pushing her panties aside, and she gasped as I ran my knuckles along her inner thigh.

“Holy fuck,” I muttered, feeling just how wet she was.

Her head fell back against the mirror, her lashes fluttering. “Are you just going to stand there and admire the view?” she teased, her voice breathy, wrecked.

A low growl rumbled from my throat as I grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at me. “I want to see your face when I’m inside you.”

Her breath stalled for a second before she nodded, her lips parting like she wanted to say something. But I didn’t let her.

I growled against her mouth, nipping at her bottom lip, tasting the heat of her, the faint tang of her sweat as her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling hard, demanding more. She made a soft sound, half sigh, half moan, that sent fire ripping through me, my cock throbbing against her thigh like it had a mind of its own. I shoved my jeans down, my hands shaking with need as I pulled her closer, until her ass barely clung to the counter’s edge.

I could see everything with her flimsy dress bunched up around her hips like that—her soaked panties shoved aside, her heat glistening, dripping for me.

“Beg me to fuck you. Let me hear how bad you’re dying for it,” I murmured against her skin, my voice low, rough, my lips brushing her jaw, teasing her until she squirmed. I needed her to say it, I needed those words to snap the last thread holding me back.

She turned her head, lips ghosting over mine, teasing me right back, her breath hot against my skin. “I want you to fuck me,” she said, a dare wrapped in a plea.

I gripped myself, gliding the tip along her folds, teasing, feeling her slickness coat me, and she gasped, sharp and ragged, her nails digging into my scalp, tugging me closer.

“Jace—please,” she breathed in a dark and wild voice, her hips rocking up, chasing me.

I loved the sound of her desperation. I needed her to feel this, this ache…this crushing desire, like she might die if I didn't get inside her soon.

I pressed in—just the tip, slow as hell, stretching her tight heat—and she moaned, the sound almost like a sob as her head tipped back against the mirror, the glass above her head fogging from her breath.

“Say it,” I growled, voice low, thick with need, pushing in an inch more, feeling her clench around me, hot and perfect, my restraint hanging by a thread. There was still quite a bit of me to go, but I wasn’t going to bring her attention to that. If she went off screaming right now, I’d probably die.

“Tell me you want me—tell me you’re mine,” I growled.

She wouldn’t understand right now what was happening, how she was sealing our fate into stone. ButIknew what those words would mean. I knew what would happen as soon as they came out of her mouth.

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