Page 99 of Game Misconduct

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All of it.

“You always this bossy in bed?” he grits out.

I dig my nails into his chest, grinding down until his breath punches out.

“You don’t like it?”

“Didn’t say that.” His hands slip up, fingers brushing over the curve of my waist. “I fucking love it.”

I brace one hand beside his head, the other dragging down the slope of his chest. “Good,” I whisper. “Because I’m not done yet.”

And then I move. Slide up and down his cock, dragging out the motion to make him crazy like he did me.

I ride him slow, every roll of my hips a taunt.

A promise.

A confession.

This isn’t just sex.

I’m claiming him like he claimed me.

I’m surrendering to him, even while I’m in control above him.

His hands roam—hips, ribs, thighs. He cups my breast, strokes his thumb over my nipple, and watches the way I gasp and clench around him.

“Sloane.” My name breaks from his throat like a warning.

“Come for me, Maddox,” I breathe. “I want to feel you.”

His hands tighten. His eyes flare. And when he comes, it’s with a guttural sound that cracks something wide open inside me.

My hips pick up speed and I chase down my orgasm until I collapse against his chest, his arms wrapping tight around me as our hearts pound in tandem.

For a long moment, there’s only the sound of our breathing and the soft rustle of sheets as he shifts to hold me closer.

I could fall asleep like this.

Wrapped in him.

Wrecked by him.

But he kisses the top of my head, then murmurs, “You're gonna be the death of me.”

I smile against his chest.

“Then I guess I’m doing something right.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Sloane

The sun’s still low—lightnot quite reaching the skyline—but the bed next to me is empty.

For one stupid second, my chest squeezes.

I tell myself not to be surprised. Not to expect anything.

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