Page 197 of The Wrong Play

His words cut off into a snarl as I sucked harder, taking him deeper, my hands gripping his thighs, nails lightly scraping along his skin.

“Fuck.Fuck.” He yanked his arm again, the bed frame groaning under the force.

My tongue flicked over him once more, slow and teasing, and then…

Snap.

The furry cuff ripped free, the bedpost splintering where the wood had given way. The blindfold went flying somewhere off the bed.

And in a blink, his hands were on me.

He flipped us in one smooth, overpowering motion, his body covering mine, pinning me to the mattress before I could react.

I gasped, my heart hammering, but Jace was already on me—his big, warm hands gripping my wrists, shoving them above my head, his weight pressing flush against me, his breath hot against my lips.

He glared down at me, his gaze breathless and burning as he took me in.

I was very smug about the way his chest was heaving, how his brown eyes were dark and filled with something primal…something veryfun. “That was a dirty trick, Riley-girl.”

I was breathless, laughing, but entirely at his mercy now. “I don’t regret it.”

His lips twitched, that signature smirk flickering over his face. “Oh, I know.”

His lips slammed against mine—wild, claiming, relentless—stealing my breath the way he always did, the way he always would.

Jace dragged my thighs apart, his body pressing against mine like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between us.

A sharp gasp left me as his fingers curled around the thin lace of my underwear. There was no hesitation, no warning…just a low growl and the snarl of fabric as he ripped them clean off my body.

“Jace—”

His mouth crashed back onto mine, swallowing my gasp, his tongue sweeping inside, devouring, as his fingers replaced what he’d just torn away. He slid through my slick heat, teasing, pressing, his touch ruthless, knowing exactly how to pull me apart.

“I don’t like not touching you,” he growled against my lips, his breath ragged, his control barely there as he pressed his length against me, dragging the tip along my entrance, teasing us both.

I writhed beneath him desperately, my fingers clawing at his back as I tried to pull him closer, deeper.

He slammed into me, hot and hard and so deep I arched, a cry breaking from my lips.

He didn’t give me time to adjust, didn’t ease into it. He owned me, thrusting deep, filling me completely, stretching me until there was nothing left of me but him.

My nails dug into his shoulders as pleasure crashed through me. “Yeeesss!”

“That’s it,” he muttered against my throat, his lips dragging down to my collarbone, sucking, biting, marking me. “Take it. Take all of me.”

I clenched around him, my body pulling him deeper, harder, and his rhythm turned brutal—relentless—like he had to remind me that I belonged right here, under him, taking every ounce of his obsession.

“You feel so fucking perfect,” he rasped, shifting his angle, hitting the spot that made me cry out.

I was unraveling, pleasure coiling deep, burning hotter and hotter, my body tightening, chasing the peak I knew was coming too fast, too hard.

“Baby…” My voice broke as the climax ripped through me, pleasure exploding in every nerve, leaving me shattered and shaking beneath him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, thrusting once, twice—then burying himself deep, his body locking against mine as he came with a loud, wrecked sound.

We stayed like that, tangled and trembling, his breath warm against my skin, his hands still gripping my thighs like he’d never let go.

His lips brushed against my temple, softer now, his voice hushed, reverent. “I’ll get you back for that, babycakes.”

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