Page 91 of The Wrong Play

The mattress shifted again, and then there it was—the hushed intake of breath, the softest whimper.

My head tilted. My pulse roared in my ears.

Fuck.

She was touching herself.

Heat slammed through my chest, my throat, my gut. I bit down on my tongue, hard, trying to keep my own breath steady, but my control was slipping, fraying at the edges as I listened.

Another little sound. A breathy inhale that had my fists clenching, my cock going painfully hard beneath my jeans.

Did she know?

The thought sent a dark thrill through me. Was she thinking of me? Had she sensed me somehow? Had she noticed the missing things?—

Or was she justthatdesperate for it tonight?

She shifted again, and I imagined it. Her hand slipping lower, fingers dragging over the softest part of herself, teasing, pressing?—

My eyes squeezed shut, my control hanging by a fucking thread.

My cock ached, pulsing with every breath she took, every tiny sound that slipped past her lips.

I couldn’t stop myself. My hand was already working at my jeans, dragging the zipper down as silently as I could manage. My dick was thick and desperate, the tip already slick as I wrapped my fingers around it, hissing out a breath as I gave it a slow stroke.

Was she thinking about whatmyfingers could do? How they pushed inside her. How I always found that perfect spot that drove her crazy every time?

The air in the room changed. Grew heavier. Charged.

Her breath hitched again, sharper this time, and I imagined her fingers slipping lower, circling, pressing inside. My grip tightened as I matched her pace, my breath growing uneven. I bit down on my lip, hard, barely holding back a groan.

The bed creaked as she moved, a soft exhale spilling from her lips. The sound sent a violent shudder through me. I pumped faster, my entire body strung so fucking tight I thought I might snap.

Another moan—higher now, breathier, her movements growing urgent. Her breath hitched, and then, barely above a whisper, she moaned my name. “Jace…”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I kind of wanted to scream that I was here, but that would probably ruin the vibes. We’d have to talk about this moment later on. We’d probably both agree how hot this was.

I wasn’t going to last. It was a good thing I’d already proven how good my stamina was in previous encounters.

I clenched my teeth, my body going taut, burning with need as I worked myself harder, faster, my other hand trying to grip the floor like it might keep me from unraveling. But nothing could stop it now. Nothing could stop the way my body locked up, the white-hot pleasure that tore through me, so intense I saw spots behind my eyes.

I came harder than I ever had in my life, my body shaking as I spilled over my hand. My breath was ragged, my mind clouded with heat and hunger and something darker, something possessive.

Above me, the bed creaked one last time as she let out a soft, sated sigh.

I dragged in a shuddering breath, my cock still throbbing in my grip.

Fuck,that was hot.

A door slammed, and I jerked awake, disoriented, my heart thumping against my ribs.

For a second, I forgot where the hell I was.

Then I moved—bang—smacking my head against the damn frame of Riley’s bed.Right.

I’d fallen asleep.Under her fucking bed.

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