Page 80 of Rush

“Please.” The word spills out before I can stop it.

He stills, just enough to make me ache.

“Please what, El?” he teases, lips grazing mine—close enough to taste, not enough to have.

“Please…it’s against the rules…”

He laughs, low and dangerous, lips at my ear. “I have no intention of breakingyourrules—I’m going to fulfill them.”

A moan rips from my throat as I grind against his hand, heat pooling fast and sharp. My breath comes ragged, my resolve slipping like silk.

He swipes his thumb over my mouth. “If kissing these lips isn’t allowed…” His hand drops to my center, pressing harder “…then I’ll kiss these ones instead.”

His hands trail up my thighs, slow, savoring. “Hmm,” he hums, pleased. “Your body’s so fucking sexy.”

“Are we going to keep talking, or are you going to put that filthy mouth to work?” I challenge, though my voice trembles.

“You’ve got no idea what you’ve just done, baby.”

He yanks his shirt off in one swift motion. Before I can admire the view, his hands are on me, tugging, tearing.

“Broderick!” I yelp, but the sound of fabric tearing fills the room as heruthlessly rips it apart, exposing my skin to the cool air.

“What the hell?!” I laugh breathlessly, heat flooding me.

“Oh, you wanted to play games,” he growls, biting my neck hard enough to make me cry out. “So, let’s fucking play—my way.”

His hands slide down, seizing my pants, ripping them open at the seam. In a blink I’m down to my bra and panties.

He hooks his fingers into them, dragging them down my legs.

“You’re a fucking menace,” I pant, chest heaving as he sinks to his knees.

My eyes widen, catching the dark hunger in his gaze.

He smirks, eyes flicking up to meet mine. “Well, you’re about to be a mess.”

Before I can respond, his mouth is on me—tongue teasing at my entrance, slow, deliberate, savoring me like a man starved.

“Fuck,” I cry out, hands flying to his hair, but he grips my thighs apart, pinning me open against the wall, refusing to let me move.

“Broderick—” I moan, hips jerking, but his hold is iron.

He groans into me, tongue working deeper, hungrier, relentless. Every time I try to move, he presses me harder against the wall.

“Stay still, baby,” he rasps between strokes, the vibration of his voice sending shockwaves through me.

“God—fuck—” My thighs tremble as he flicks my clit, fast and merciless, every nerve strung tight, my body threatening to shatter.

“I’m so close, Brody…please,” I cry out.

He spreads me open further, throwing both my legs over his shoulders so I’m straddling his face.

Oh my fucking God.

And then—in one dizzying move—he lifts me up, still holding me open, with his mouth on me, tongue never leaving me, as I writhe in his hold.

“Oh—” I cry out as he tosses me on the bed, standing over me with dark, wild eyes, my slick coating his face.