Page 155 of Scandalous Games

When I finish, I curl my arm around her waist and pull her against my heaving chest. Grabbing the front of her throat, I bring her lips to mine and kiss her softly, reverently. When her shiny brown eyes meet mine, my heart squeezes inside my chest.

An urge I never possessed or dreamt to ever feel rises within me. Love. Contentment.

I’ve fallen for her.

With it comes another scary thought.

Will she forgive me when I confess the brutal truth?

Chapter Fifty-two

BIANCA

The second I pull back from Dash’s embrace, I miss his warmth like an addict.

Both of us reek of sex after mating like two animals without a care about their surroundings. My hair is no longer in the elegant bun I spent hours on, my blouse askew, and if that didn’t scream I was fucked to within an inch of my life, the flush on my skin betrays our filthy, jealousy-driven romp in the garden.

Meanwhile, Dash isn't bothered in the slightest by his rumpled state. Though he is not as bad as mine. His hair is tousled and falling over his eyelashes, tie lopsided. With controlled movements, he tucks his still half-mast cock and smoothens his jacket.

The sinewy muscles, flexing like a thirst trap.

And damn. My pussy fluttersagain.

Blinking back to reality, I try remembering how long we’ve been gone. Did someone come searching and saw us fucking shamelessly? While I begin to panic and wonder how I’ll ever explain myself to others, Dash is calm as a bird and stares at me in his unnerving and penetrating way. Like I’m a fascinating creature that will disappear if he blinks.

After everything, this small habit of his still gives me butterflies like a silly girl.

His gaze is no longer burning with anger and violence, which gives me a little peace. I hate the shadows that darken his beautiful features when his unhinged and possessive side flares. Next time he becomes that unhinged, I’ll just let him work it out by fucking me as he pleases. It seems to work like magic. And ends with my pussy satisfied from countless delirious orgasms.

He arches one eyebrow, as if he can hear my illicit thoughts. “I know that look, kitten. You craving my dick again?”

At the mention of his cock, I jolt when I realize he didn’t wear a condom. How can I be so reckless? I flick my gaze to his and the calm expression he’s wearing has me stuttering, “Y-you came inside me.”

Primal satisfaction flashes across his sharp features. “I did.”

“What if I get pregnant? You don’t even know if I’m on the pill.”

“Don’t tempt me with ideas, kitten.”

Unbelievable. “You’re not giving me a baby until I’m thirty.”

My gasp is audible when what I just blurted out in my post-orgasmic haze sinks in. This is even worse than saying I love him, which I might as well have. Because apparently, my inner hussy is very eager to have his babies.

Babies. What the hell?

I cover my mouth when a smile appears on his lips. The brightest I’ve ever seen, and it softens his rugged angles. He becomes infinitely more dangerous to my heart.

“Don’t you dare.” I point my finger at his chest. “Pretend you didn’t hear that!”

He wisely listens but his silence and that panty-melting smirk is just as smug and delighted as any word he could’ve said. Ignoring him, I right my blouse while taming my curls as much as I can under the circumstances. My skirt has fallen back into place but every second, I can feel his cum leaking from my pussy. The asshole even ruined my panties, which I find torn and thrown on the ground mere feet from me.

“Give me your handkerchief,” I demand, extending my hand. When he doesn’t, I look up. “Dash!”

“Why do you need it, kitten?”

My shyness decides to kick in. “You know why.”

“No.”

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