Page 67 of Played
He laughs, and his breath ruffles my hair. “I know, baby. I can’t fucking wait. But right now I’m fucking you, so bite down on that pillow real hard for me and my neighbors won’t hear you screaming my name when you come.”
I sink my teeth into the soft foam without protest—having some guy scream out his name in the throes of ecstasy isn’t exactly conducive to us keeping this thing a secret, and he fucks me so hard and so thoroughly that I almost pass out from the force of my orgasm. If it wasn’t for the pillow, the entire building would know King’s name.
It’s beena long time since I’ve woken up in someone else’s bed. Even longer since I’ve done so with a massive bicep draped over my chest and not freaked out about it.
King is still sleeping, and I try to slip out from under his arm to make some coffee, but he opens one eye and yanks me closer. “Where are you sneaking off to?”
“I need coffee.”
He snuggles into the pillow, contented little noises coming from his lips. “I’ll make you some coffee soon. Just five more minutes.”
“Or I can make my own coffee, and you can sleep for as long as you want,” I suggest.
He nuzzles my neck. “I don’t want five more minutes of sleep, Mase. I want five more minutes of this.”
Oh. Well, fuck. “Could you stop being so fucking adorable for one minute? This is a complete one-eighty from you, and to be honest, it’s making my head spin.”
He smirks, his eyes remaining closed. “No, I can’t.”
“Jeez,” I mutter, unable to stop the grin spreading across my own face. I stare at the hairline crack in the ceiling and listen to the sound of his breathing and my own heartbeat.
He shifts his position, and his morning wood rubs against my thigh. “So you think I’m adorable, huh?”
“Not adorable enough to go without coffee. I know it’s Saturday, but I still have to be at work in an hour, and I have to shower and change first.”
He hooks his leg over mine. “Oh, yeah. I heard you got a whole department working overtime this weekend for the big Fortnam deal. But you can shower and change at your office.”
“And walk past my secretary and my staff in yesterday’s clothes? Smelling of your cologne and hot sex?”
He opens his eyes. “Does hot sex smell different than regular sex?”
I roll on top of him and skim my nose along his throat. “Yeah, very fucking different.”
He groans, his hands running down my back to my ass. “But we showered last night after I fucked you.”
I hum my agreement. Fuck, he always smells so good. “I know, but now I’m gonna fuck you, Hotshot.”
His fingers twine in my hair. “While I would love that, we have no condoms left.”
“Motherfucker,” I growl, making him huff a laugh.
“It’s okay, baby. I can still make you smell like sex for work.” He grips both of our cocks in his huge hand. His palm glides along our shafts, and he collects our precum with his thumb and smears it over our skin. Using it as lube, he works us over together.
“Fuck, King.” I hiss out a breath, resting my mouth against the crook of his neck.
“You’re gonna smell like me all day. When that douche from HR makes up some bullshit excuse to be in your office, whenthat fuckboy barista smiles at you when he passes you your coffee. Any guy who gets anywhere near you and thinks he has a shot is gonna know you’re mine.”
Possessive asshole. Can’t deny that I love it though—not only that he bothered to learn so much about my workday but the way he saysmine. It makes me feel… so many fucking things. Wanted. Needed. Safe. He always used to make me feel safe.
I rock my hips, grinding into his hand, fucking him the only way I can right now.
“Fucking hell,” he says. “You feel so fucking good doing that. You’re desperate to come, aren’t you?”
“As desperate as you.”
He grunts, working us both faster, his grip getting tighter. His free hand coasts down my back, and he slides a finger into my asshole. “Come with me, baby.”
“Jesus, fuck,” I murmur against his neck right before he tips us both over the edge. Warm ribbons of cum coat our stomachs and chests, and the deviant fucker rubs it into my skin like lotion.
