Page 85 of Played
When the song ends, we dance to the next one. Until King’s stomach growls and a laugh bubbles out of me. “I believe you said something about dinner.”
He nods. “Food, then fucking?”
“If you order the soufflé, we’ll have time for fucking before food too,” I tease.
We untangle ourselves from each other, and he grabs the menu before lying back on the bed, one arm tucked behind his head. “Fuck, I can’t choose. This all looks good to me.”
I straddle his hips. “Then order one of everything.”
He drops the menu to his side. “That would be a waste and would wipe out all my winnings.”
I pull off my T-shirt and toss it on the floor. “Then let me pay. What’s the point of having a billionaire boyfriend if not to let him buy you an entire Michelin-rated menu?” I fall forward, andmy hands land on either side of his head, but he plants his hands on my ribcage, stopping me from moving any closer.
His eyes narrow on my face. “I don’t want your money, Mase. You know that, right? That’s not why I’m with you.”
I bend my head, pushing against the resistance of his hands, and dust my lips over his. “I know, mi rey. I was teasing you.”
His warm breath mingles with mine, and he shifts his hips, rubbing his semi-hard cock against my ass. “And I’m supposed to be buying you dinner.”
“Okay, buy me dinner. But I already have my dessert right here.”
He slides his palms down to my waist. “Oh, you do?”
“Sure do.” I take his lip between my teeth and bite down gently.
He digs his fingers into my hips and grinds me on his cock, making mine ache. “I really like the sound of that.”
I rest on my forearms, trailing my teeth along his jawline and rubbing myself against him until he’s groaning with need. “You know what I really want?” I whisper in his ear.
“What?” he grunts, his back arching.
I flick my tongue over the shell of his ear. “The lobster.”
With a feral growl, he flips me and pins me to the bed, and I find myself laughing too hard to attempt to stop him. Grabbing my hands, he easily holds them above my head when I offer no resistance at all. “Food, baby boy,” he rasps. “And then you’re getting fucked.”
He reaches for the phone on the nightstand with his free hand and dials room service. Still straddling me, he keeps me trapped between his powerful thighs and stares into my eyes while he orders us both the lobster.
“I really needto fuck you, Mase.” His voice is pained and desperate.
“Lube is in my bag,” I pant.
He scrambles off the bed and goes to his bag rather than mine. Of course he has lube too. I told him to pack an overnight bag.
We enjoyed our lobster dinner, along with a few glasses of fine Scotch, and declared that the food portion of the evening had well and truly canceled out the fucking part. So we watched a movie, happy to simply lie with each other.
That all went to hell when we were brushing our teeth. First, our eyes met in the mirror. Then came the slightest brush of our fingertips. That was all we needed to reignite our feverish hunger for each other. We fell into bed, a tangle of limbs and tongues, kissing and grabbing and biting.
King crawls back over me, coating his cock in lube with one hand and nudging my thighs apart with his knees. He trails his tongue across my collarbone and growls. “You’re fucking delicious.”
I grab his hair and pull his lips to mine. “So are you, Hotshot. And I believe you’re my dessert.”
“Then you can have me, baby.” He sinks all the way inside me with one smooth thrust that takes my breath away.
I cling to him, waiting for him to nail me to the mattress. But he presses his forehead to mine and pulls out in agonizingly slow motion before pushing back inside again, his shaft massaging my prostrate with every thrust.
Pleasure rockets through my body. My eyes roll back in my head. “Fuck, King.”
He breathes heavily. “I love you, Mase.”
