Page 36 of More Than A Game

“Fine. But I’ve got my contacts in, so this is just a quick show-and-tell.”

How does this man make show-and-tell sound dirty? The glasses are black-rimmed and kind of square. And, oh my...Murphy looks like a super-hot, ginger version of Clark Kent. Watch out, Henry Cavil, here comes Aiden Murphy. “Damn, Murph. You should wear your glasses more often. They look good.”

The glasses are off his face and back on the dresser before he faces me again. And what is that I see? I think he may be blushing. “Glad to know you approve, Princess. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Walking over, I come to a stop in front of him. I stand a little more than a head shorter than this confusing man. Even with the sling on, his muscular arms are on full display, and he’s got grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, giving me a beautiful view. I have a split second before deciding what my next move is and giving in to what I want.

Grabbing the front of his shirt, I tell him, “I’m really sorry about Sunday morning, Murph.”

“You said that already.” His voice comes out strong. Powerful. I think I like it.

I tilt my head back and look up into those gorgeous green eyes. Here goes nothing. “I know. I was just thinking that maybe I could make it up to you.”

His face changes. A look I can’t decipher floats there briefly before he puts his shields back up. “You don’t have to make it up to me. We can just move on.”

I lean up on my toes and kiss his firm lips, then the corner of his mouth before sucking his bottom lip. For a brief moment, I’m in control. That moment doesn’t last. Murphy places his free hand on my face and pulls me closer to him, sandwiching his bad arm in between us, eliciting a groan from him that sounds pained.

I step back and grab his hand. Then I pull him back to the bed and turn him to sit down. Murphy does what I want but is quiet, and the muscles in his face look strained. “What if I want to do this? Not because I’m sorry, or to make it up to you. But because I want to taste you.”

I drop to my knees and run my hands up his firm, muscled thighs. This man makes me thank God for sweatpants season. As my hands go to the waistband of his sweats, he grabs one wrist. “Princess.” It comes out pained.

“What’s wrong? Do you not want this? Do you not want me?” Damnit. Did I mess this up already?

“Jesus, Sabrina. No. I want you. You look like my fucking wet dream come to life. Seeing you in my shirt is enough to make me want to mark you in ways I’ve never even considered before. It’s not that. It’s just, I like things a certain way.”

What the heck is he saying?

I sit back on my heels and move my hands back slightly but still leave them resting on his thighs. “A certain way? Are we talking like Christian’s red room of pain?”

The poor guy looks completely confused, then annoyed before fury takes over.

“Who the fuck is Christian? What pain? Do I need to kill someone?” Not gonna lie, protective Murphy is hot as hell.

I shake my head and smile. “What does ‘a certain way’ mean?”

His muscles relax slightly. “I like a certain level of control.”

That gets my attention.

Yes, please. You can have all the control you want in return for multiple orgasms.

“Tell me what you want.”

He runs his tongue along his teeth, and I think I wanna suck that too. “You sure you wanna play, Princess?”

“Who said I was playing?” I’m back up on my knees with my hands massaging the muscles of his quads again. “Tell me what you want.”

“Pull down my pants,” Murphy’s voice drops dangerously low. Doing as I’m told, I grip the waistband of his sweats and pull them down. My efforts are immediately rewarded when his beautifully thick cock stands proudly at attention. It’s big and thick with angry veins stretching the tight skin.

I swear to God, my mouth is watering just looking at it.

Lifting my eyes, I look up through my lashes and see a different side of Aiden Murphy. He doesn’t look carefree right now. He looks like he’s a guitar string that’s been strung too tightly, just waiting to snap.

He leans forward and anchors his fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck. “Grab the base of my cock with one hand and cup my balls with your other.” He takes a deep breath. “Then lick, Princess.”

I can do this.

I grab, cup, and then finally, ever so slowly lick from the base of his dick up to the top of his head before I let my tongue swirl against the pearl of precum at the tip like he’s my very favorite lollipop. I lift my eyes to his again and am rewarded with the sexiest groan.

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