Page 58 of Played
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Greedy boy.” He chuckles but sinks deeper.
My legs shake, and light explodes behind my eyelids. “Fuck!”
“You’re taking me so well, babe.” He hisses out a breath before he pulls out and drives into me again. “Your ass was made for me. And nobody else will ever fuck it. Nobody but me, right?” He drives in harder.
I throw my head back into the pillow, bearing down so I can take more of him, enjoying the moment far too much to argue and remind either of us that this is nothing more than a casual hookup. But he’s right. Mason is the only guy I’ve considered this with, and as amazing as it is, it’s amazing because it’s with him.
My fingertips dig into the taut muscle of his back. His teeth and lips lash against my neck as he fucks me. I don’t care that he’s in control. I don’t care that he could unravel me with a single word. I focus on the delicious sensation of being full of his cock, of having his hard body nailing mine into the mattress. Of having him all over me. I’m made up entirely of need now, chasing another orgasm despite the amazing one he just gave me.
I wedge my hand between our sweat-slicked bodies, grasping wildly for my aching cock, but he grips my wrist and presses it to the mattress. “Nuh-uh. Let me make you come like this.” He presses his lips against my ear. “I can feel how close you are. You love my cock in your ass.” He drives harder and I see stars. “Don’t you?”
Motherfucker! I’m pinned by him, unable to move and unwilling to be anywhere but here, with Mason James nailing me to his bed.
“Don’t you, King?”
“Yeah,” I pant, squeezing my eyes closed as the most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced in my life tears through my bodylike wildfire. Every cell in my body trembles with the force of my release as it spurts across my chest.
“Good fucking boy,” he growls.
I’m too spent to tell him to stop calling me that. His hips thrust once, twice, and he goes still and moans my name. He murmurs something unintelligible, possibly in Spanish, his chest heaving as he pants for breath.
The tender kiss he presses on my forehead has tears burning my eyes. He gently slips his dick out of me. “You okay?”
Worried my voice will crack and betray me, I can only nod. Mason and I have crossed a huge fucking line—at least I have. That wasn’t a hookup. It was so much fucking more. Thankfully, he rolls onto his side and gets rid of the condom, and it gives me the opportunity to get myself together.
But he doesn’t stray far, and a few seconds later, he wraps an arm around my waist and tugs my body against his. “I’m gonna get you cleaned up as soon as I can feel my legs.”
For the briefest moment, I let myself fall under his spell. I imagine him taking care of me, wrapping me up in his arms until I fall asleep. And then maybe we’d do everything all over again when we wake up tomorrow.
Pity I can’t let that happen. I’m not a bottom. Not submissive. No longer someone who cuddles after sex. Not even for him. “I can clean myself up.” I force myself out of his arms and grab my boxers off the floor.
“I know you can. I was just being?—”
“Just being what?” My head snaps up, and I glare at him, trying not to let the hurt on his face get to me. If I think for a split second about what a douchebag I’m being, I’ll crawl back into that bed and let him do all the things he’s thinking of right now. And that can’t happen.
“A decent fucking human,” he says, his handsome features marred by a deep frown.
I avert my gaze, unable to stand that confused, pained expression any longer. After a quick scrabble around the floor, I find my jeans and pull them on, my chest still covered in my cum.
“Where are you going?”
I don’t look at him, making a show of searching for my shirt instead. “Home.” The ice in my tone makes me shiver.
“Jesus Christ.” He rolls onto his back and throws an arm over his eyes. “Just get the fuck out, King.”
He’s hurting. I fucking hurt him. We shared something incredible, and now I’m running away like a coward, and he knows it as well as I do. But it’s better this way. He and I can never work. We’re from two different worlds. And surely a little pain now is worth it to save us both a fuckload of it later.
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
KING
There’s something I’ve always loved about walking in the rain. Maybe it’s the idea of it washing everything away—the dirt and grime of the city, the shame. Maybe it’s because nobody can see the tears running down a person’s face when it’s raining. I’ve never cried so fucking much in my whole life as I have these past few weeks. I hate it.
