Page 41 of Rules of Play

He pulled away just barely, forehead pressing to mine. His breathing was rough. So was mine.

We stared at each other in the silence.

Somewhere far off, a door creaked. A janitor? A late-night straggler? I didn’t know.

“That was insane,” I whispered. I could barely speak. My lips were swollen. My hands trembled slightly.

Patrick just smiled. A little dangerous, a little dazed. “Totally worth it.”

I looked down, catching my breath.

“We said we wouldn’t risk that,” I said. “Someone could’ve walked right by.”

“But they didn’t,” he said.

I grabbed his hoodie and kissed him one more time, quick and aching. “Forget about the bar. Come home with me,” I whispered against his mouth. “Not the bed. I want you on the floor. All night.”

Patrick groaned softly and grabbed my hand. “Lead the way.”

We left the books where they were.

Patrick waited for me as if only a minute had passed when I stepped out of the bathroom. He spun around in my desk chair, his chest rising a little faster at the sight of me.

I didn’t think I would ever get used to it—someone looking at me like I was a wonder. Like I was that hot. But he bit his lip as I crossed the room in nothing but a towel, and he grabbed my hips with both hands, planting his sexy lips against my stomach and dragging them down. “I’ve been waiting for this the whole day,” he said. Then he shot me a guilty look and smiled. “And riveting, intellectual discussions, of course.”

I snorted and pressed my hand against the back of his head. “Would you rather have that?”

Patrick’s lips pursed when I caught him lying. “Must we?”

I shook my head. “I had enough academic work for today. Make me forget everything about it.”

Patrick rose to his feet, still holding my hips, and leaned in. “That, my darling, is my specialty.” He leaped at me, burying his face in the crook of my neck, making me yelp in surprise, and kissed me with such passion that it felt like I was catapulted out of this galaxy. Wherever it was that I landed, I wanted to stay there.

It only took him half a minute to heat up in the way that was still so unfamiliar and jarring to me. It was as though I still believed I would wake up and discover it had all been a dream. But Patrick kissed me heatedly and untied my towel, sending it on the floor and grabbing my bare ass with both hands.

I hadn’t expected him to want me with such fervor, but he did. He grabbed me and groped me and pulled me so tight that I could feel how hard his muscles were under his hoodie. His hands held my ass while he kissed my neck and bit my ear. Then, in a display of unchecked lust, he slipped his hands lower and lifted me off the ground.

I cried out in surprise, but Patrick was a steady monolith, strong and stable, perfectly capable of lifting me up.

My legs curled around Patrick’s waist, my ass resting on his abdomen and crotch, and my head tilting down to kiss him. I couldn’t do anything about the smile that stretched the corners of my lips while I kissed him, but I could feel him smiling, too.

Patrick’s hands supported me very bluntly on the bottom of my butt. He held me there while I wrapped my arms around his neck and shoulders. We kissed harder, my blood simmering, then boiling with lust I had nowhere to spend. It glimmered within me, trapped, built up, threatening to shatter me.

“On the floor?” Patrick asked, then kissed me again.

“Yeah,” I said, short of breath.

He set me down, then swept his hoodie up and over his head. The light of the reading lamp was the only one on in the room, giving us a soft glow and a whole range of warm shadows. When Patrick reached for his belt, I slid down, falling to my knees. A week after our first time together, I hardly counted myself as experienced, but I moved with growing ease and confidence.

I undid Patrick’s belt and opened his pants, then pulled them down his legs together with his underwear. I didn’t want it to be slow and romantic. Not tonight. I was needy, craving him likesomeone craved a powerful drug. Right now, I would have said and done anything just to get a taste of him.

Patrick had no price for it. He offered himself willingly, and I took him. My lips closed around the tip of his hard cock before his pants were down to his ankles.

A visible shudder passed through Patrick’s chest as I leaned in and impaled myself on his long dick, taking him to my throat and failing to take him any deeper.

I gazed up at him. It was not intentional, but I knew I wore a pleading, needy look on my face. My eyes were on him, begging him to take me, to use me, to pleasure himself with my body however he liked.

Patrick’s eyes were glowing like blue ice with a fire burning deep within. He put his hands on the back of my head and threaded his fingers, then swung his hips back and fucked my mouth in the only right way: without mercy.

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