Page 77 of Behind the Net

“Better?” he murmurs against my ear, and I nod.

“So much better.”

“Good.” He inhales me, nose against my neck, and lets it out as a sigh. “It’s my turn, okay?”

I nod, letting my head fall against him. He kisses my cheek, my jaw, my neck, and the tension leaves my body.

His hands skim up my thighs, strong fingers digging into the muscles, massaging me. As his hands draw closer to my center, he pauses.

“Put your hands on my thighs, songbird.”

I set my hands on his warm skin, and he flinches.

“You’re cold,” he huffs, laughing quietly.

“Sorry,” I squeak.

“It’s okay.” He presses another kiss to my cheek, and this is the side of Jamie that’s the most dangerous. The sweet version of him. “Put your feet on mine.”

I do, and he groans like he’s in pain.

“Like ice,” he says, and I laugh. A little puff of air against my neck tells me he’s laughing, too.

I’m relaxing more by the second. His hands stroke up and down my thighs, inching closer and closer to the apex each time, and I’m melting into him as heat builds inside me.

“How’s that?” His mouth moves against my shoulder.

“Good,” I whisper.

His hands move up to my breasts, and when his fingers find my nipples, I sigh again. He pinches and rolls the peaks, gently at first, but with growing pressure, drawing more gasps and sighs from me until I’m squirming against him. His cock pulses against my back as I arch into his hands. Heat pools at the bottom of my stomach and I can feel how wet I am.

“I’m going to try the toy again,” he says, low in my ear. “You think you can handle that?”

I nod, opening my legs, pressing them against his thighs. “Uh-huh.”

He shifts under me, reaching for it, and slides it under the duvet, applying it to my clit before he turns it on.

The toy’s intense suction on my clit makes every muscle in my body pull taut. “Oh my god.”

“Have you played with the settings?”

I’m writhing on him. “No.”

Oh god. This is so good. This is perfect, exactly what I need. He’s so warm and solid beneath me, all around me, and my nails dig into his thick, muscular thighs. His cock pulses again when I do that.

He turns the intensity of the toy down, and the desperate, aching feeling fades—not completely, but I’m no longer on the brink of coming.

“Hey,” I protest, but it’s more of a desperate plea.

His teeth scrape my shoulder. “You’re not in charge here.” His hand comes to my stomach, sliding to the underside of my breast. I want him to touch my nipple again, roll it, pinch it, anything, but he won’t, he just keeps stroking my skin, circling the aching point.

“Tell me what you feel right now,” he murmurs into my ear, lowering the intensity of the toy another click.

The toy’s soft suction pulls me into a comfortable, floaty zone. I can’t come like this, but I don’t want it to stop.

“Songbird. Pay attention.”

I suck in a breath. Right. Focus. “Okay. Um. I can feel the toy between my legs.”

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