Page 83 of Game Over

But this...

Her body moves against mine with no prompt, no threat hanging over her head. Just her soft warmth responding to mine. Her breaths quicken, eyelids fluttering as she rocks against me again, seeking more friction.

I remain frozen, afraid to break whatever spell has fallen over her. My hands hover at her hips, not directing, existing in this moment.

This isn’t the rough claiming I’ve forced on her before. Not the power exchange of predator and prey. This is her choice, her own desire, in action.

This is just us and our bodies recognizing each other. Chemistry cuts through the trauma I inflicted.

And it terrifies me more than anything.

“Ryker.” Kira’s voice breaks as she looks at me. Her fingers dig into my shoulders as she presses herself closer. “I need you. Please. Fuck me.”

Her freely given request destroys me more thoroughly than any resistance ever could.

“Kira,” I whisper, my voice cracking with emotion I’ve never allowed myself to feel, let alone show. “Are you sure?”

She nods, her lips parting. “I’m sure. I need this.”

The last thread of control I’ve been desperately clinging to snaps completely. I cup Kira’s face between my hands, touching her like she’s made of glass, like she’s the most precious thing I’ve ever held.

“You’re all I’ve ever fucking wanted,” I tell her, the bittersweet honesty burning my throat. “My whole life. Every miserable fucking day. I’ve been waiting for you.”

I press my forehead against hers, breathing her in. My thumbs stroke her cheekbones, gentle in a way I never knew I could be.

“You’re my world, Mischief. Not the game. Not the hunt. You.”

I kiss her then, not the bruising, claiming kisses I’ve forced on her before, but something tender and reverent. My lips brush against hers softly, asking rather than taking. When she responds, parting her lips beneath mine in invitation, I groan against her mouth.

I deepen the kiss, unable to contain the intensity that’s natural to me. My fingers tangle in her hair, tugging just enough to tilt her head back, giving me better access to her mouth. The gentleness remains.

“I love you,” I confess against her lips, the words I never thought I’d say to anyone. “I fucking love you, Kira.”

I feel Kira’s sharp intake of breath against my lips when I say those words. Her body tenses momentarily, and I know she’s not ready to say it back. How could she be? She’s only beginning to know me, while I’ve been learning her for two years. And if I am being honest, I’m not sure I even know me now. But I know I would like to explore it with her.

Instead of words, she answers with her body. Her lips find mine again, urgent and hungry. The kiss deepens, and I taste her need, so different from fear or manipulation. This is real. This is Kira choosing me.

My hands slide down her sides, memorizing every curve as if I haven’t mapped her body a thousand times through screens and surveillance. But this—her warm skin beneath my fingertips, the slight tremble in her muscles as I touch her—is infinitely better than fantasy.

I fumble with my pants, suddenly clumsy with want. I yank them down just enough, freeing myself. My fingers lift the hem of her dress, exposing her to my gaze.

When I enter her, it’s with a gentleness I didn’t know I possessed. Her warmth envelops me, and a groan, unlike anything I’ve ever heard, claws its way up my throat. This isn’t taking. This isn’t claiming. This is joining, a mutual endeavor by two people who desire to be one.

“Fuck, Kira,” I breathe against her neck, overwhelmed the by sensations and untethered emotion colliding inside me.

She begins to move above me, finding her own rhythm. My hands settle on her hips—not directing, just following, supporting. She sets the pace, rolling her body against mine with a grace that stills my breath for that moment of realization.

I look up at her in wonder. Her head tilted back, lips parted, pleasure washing over her features. She’s magnificent. She’s everything.

My hands slide up her sides, cupping her breasts with reverence. I lean forward, pressing my lips to the soft swell, tasting her skin. I worship every inch of her—this body I’ve coveted, now being offered to me so enticingly.

“Beautiful,” I murmur against her skin, kissing a path across the swell of her tits. “So fucking beautiful.”

She moves above me like she was made for me, and I fall completely. I, who never surrendered to anything in my life, give myself over to Kira Ellis without reservation.

28

KIRA

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