Page 8 of The Games We Play
Moonlight streamed through the loft’s open door, casting silver shadows across my skin.
Mac’s gaze dragged down my body, dark and hungry, his jaw twitching as his cock strained against his dress pants. He reached down, palming himself as his eyes drank me in.
I kicked off my boots, stepping fully out of the discarded suit, leaving nothing but my cat ears perched on top of my head.
Mac’s tongue swept along his bottom lip before running over his canine, his smirk downright sinful. “Even better than I imagined,” he rasped, voice thick with heat. “You are a fuckingmasterpiece.”
I stepped toward him, sliding my hands beneath his jacket, pushing it from his shoulders, letting it drop to the hay-covered floor.
The dress shirt underneath stretched across his broad chest, clinging in all the right places, practically begging me to strip it from his body.
So, I did.
Grabbing each side, I yanked hard.
Buttons popped, scattering across the wooden floor as I tore it open, exposing tattooed skin.
Mac let out a low, rough chuckle, eyes flashing with something dangerous.
“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that, Trouble.”
The nickname rolled off his tongue, sensual yet commanding. My blood turned molten, heat surging through my veins, my skin prickling with a desperate need for whatever came next.
“Hmm?” I feigned innocence as I tossed his shirt to the floor.
I’d seen Mac shirtless before, but now? Now that I could touch him,tracehim? I was practically drooling at the thought.
Tattoos covered his smooth, fair skin, each one more captivating than the last. My gaze traced the design on his chest—two hands, fingers nearly touching. Lower, along his ribs, inked words ran the length of his torso, but I couldn’t quite makethem out. Then, my favorite—two roses, one on each side of the deep V leading down to his?—
I snapped my eyes back up, a wicked grin curling my lips.
Mac smirked, knowing exactly where my mind had gone.
The dress pants hung low on his hips, teasing, tempting. I reached out, dragging my fingers over his toned abs, up across his firm chest, then over his broad shoulders, savoring every inch of him.
“What’s my punishment?” I murmured, voice dripping with challenge. “How bad have I been?”
I slid my hands into his mop of dark brown hair tinged with green, tugging the strands just enough to earn a sharp inhale from him.
Mac’s grip snapped to my lower back, pulling me flush against him.
Bare skin to bare skin.
My nipples brushed against his chest, the friction sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight down my spine.
His breath fanned against my lips, taunting me.
“First, I’m going to bend that pretty ass over my knee,” he replied, his lips hovering close to mine as he spoke. “Then, spank you so fucking hard you’ll be screaming for me to stop.”
With me firmly in his grasp, Mac dragged me toward the hay bale and sat down as I stood before him.
Slowly, he leaned back, stretching as he lounged. He watched me through hooded eyes, then tapped his thigh in a silent command.
He wanted me in place.
But I didn’t move.
I needed to drag this out, to play the game we’d been perfecting for months.
