Page 29 of Playing to Win

“I want it because I want it.” He lifted Colin’s hand, kissed his palm, then rested it against his own cheek. “So I’m asking you. I’m begging you. Please…tell me what to do.”

Colin stared at him, fighting the panic inside.What if I say something daft or do something stupid? What if Ihurthim?

He reached forward, sliding his fingers through Andrew’s hair, watching those eyes close at the scrape of nails against scalp. Then his fist clamped on the silky strands, tugging them tight.

“Ah.” Andrew’s lips parted, then curled into a tiny, ecstatic smile. It was all Colin needed.

He yanked Andrew forward into a hard, hungry kiss that made them both moan. Andrew’s body melted into his, soft and supple, pleading to be possessed. Much as Colin wanted to clutch him tight, he wouldn’t give in, not yet. He couldn’t control this man until he could control himself.

He shoved Andrew away and said, “Take off your shirt.”

“As you wish.” Eyes gleaming, he started undoing the buttons—too quickly, as Colin had no time to think of his next order.

“Stop.”

Andrew stopped. Just like that. An electric thrill shot up from Colin’s toes, all the way to the crown of his head.

“Do it slower,” he told Andrew. “And start from the bottom button. In fact, do all the buttons up and start again.”

“Yes, Master.”

Colin winced. “Gonnae no call me that. It’s cheesy.”

“My apologies. What shall I call you?”

Say my name. It slays me when you say my name.“Nothing. If you must speak, then just say yes or no. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Andrew’s smooth voice held an aching edge that seemed to stroke Colin’s cock from base to tip.

“On second thought, say ‘aye’ instead of ‘yes.’ Be a true Scotsman.”

A tiny muscle twitched under Andrew’s eye. Then he simply nodded.

Colin turned away, feeling his own face heat under that icy gaze. If only there were a way to shroud it so he wouldn’t have to watch Andrew watching him. Judging his performance, no doubt.

He saw the sleep kits in their silk bags lying on the desk.Perfect.He pulled out one of the black velvet masks. “I’m gonnae put this on you now.”

Andrew gasped. “Oh yes. I mean—aye.”

Colin fixed the mask on him, then stepped back to regard his work. Free from scrutiny, he let himself stare.

My God, that is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

“Don’t move.” He walked to the desk, where someone had left them a bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket, along with a bottle of whisky.

Colin poured a dram of the latter, hoping it would stop his hands shaking. The room seemed suddenly warm, so he added a pair of ice cubes, though it was probably a crime against this single-malt.

He angled one of the armchairs to face Andrew, then sank into it with a contented sigh. “Continue,” he said, hoping he sounded calm. “Use your left hand only, and put the other behind your back.”

Without hesitating, Andrew obeyed. His long, slender fingers, with their buffed, manicured nails, trembled a wee bit more with each button. Transfixed, Colin sipped his whisky, willing his own hand to stay steady and not rattle the ice against the glass. His swallows sounded loud in his ears, eclipsing even the bass-drum thump of his pulse.

When Andrew was finished, his open shirt offered a glimpse of a perfectly smooth chest, as well as the most lickable abs Colin had ever seen.

Colin had to clear his throat. “Well done. Now turn around. I don’t want to see your face again until I’m inside you.”

Andrew’s toes curled into the carpet, which Colin took as a good sign. Then he did as he was told.

“Take off your shirt and drop it on the floor, nice and slow-like.”

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