Page 77 of Play The Game

I laugh at him and squeeze his arms, the whiskey lighting my blood up until I’m all soft and pliable. “You don’t have to dare me to kiss you.”

He bites down on my shoulder and I have to consciously tell my hips not to rock forward into him. I glance back to find Harley and Ash are both watching us, not a shred of jealousy in either of them, but I can taste the want in the air.

Fuck.

This is heady and overwhelming and fucking perfect.

Then keys slide into the lock, and Blaise is cursing low and vicious under his breath, but I’m the one pouting.

Firm hands band around my hips and Ash pulls me out of Blaise’s lap. “Time’s up, Mounty.”

Avery doesn’t ask questions about why we were drinking, even after I take a three-hour nap. I wake up feeling physically shit but my head is in a better space, finally. Maybe it was the whiskey, maybe it was the reassurances from them all, or maybe it was talking about some of the damage still bleeding inside me. They way they heard me out and then let it go—I’m starting to think they’re all taking notes of my reactions and sharing them amongst themselves.

We all eat dinner together, quieter than normal thanks to the long and slow day of recovery we’ve all had, but it only settles my mind even more. Harley sends everyone else back to the boys’ room while I’m in the shower getting ready for bed, totally oblivious to his plans. When I step out and find him alone, perched on my bed in nothing but his boxers, I gulp. Not in fear but in pure fucking lust.

“Uhm—”

He cuts me off. “There was one truth I didn’t get to ask you, babe, and I need it.”

I frown and step up until I’m standing between his legs, his big hands spanning my hips and drawing me in until he’s taking up all of my senses. He raises his eyebrows at me and I nod.

“My inheritance hit my account and the number was off. I spoke to Avery, told her to rerun the numbers and let me know the exact amount I owed her. She stonewalled me, and when I called her out about it, she told me you’ve been paying for my shit. Is that true?”

Fuck.

Avery hadn’t warned me about this, dammit!

Harley nods like it’s written all over my face even though I’m sure it’s not. “So even while I was being an asshole to you, you were paying for my tuition, my hotels, my fucking food. Everything.”

I clear my throat. “Look, I had to. The Jackal was looking for any little opening to take you out and having you on the Beaumont payroll would have been the easiest in for him. I was keeping you safe.”

He shakes his head and lets his hands slide down until he’s palming my ass, squeezing and kneading. “I’m not angry, babe. I’m hungry. I’m fucking starving, and you’re the only thing on the menu I want. One taste of what you’ve got and now I’m fucking addicted. Spread those legs for me.”

Oh God. How the fuck did I end up with three Alpha males? And how in the good goddamn did I find the only Alphas in the history of the Earth that are happy to share with each other? Sweet lord, I’m going to have a fucking heart attack.

Harley gets tired of waiting for me to come to my senses and do what he’s asking, so he grabs the backs of my thighs to lift me up and spread me out on the bed how he wants me. I’m only wearing my shirt and panties, and the tiny triangle of lace covering my pussy is torn from my body like it’s a fucking insult to his very nature, and he groans like he really is a starved man.

“Take a deep breath and settle in, babe, because I’m not stopping until you’ve come on my tongue at least eleven times. One for every fucking diamond you’ve given for me.”

I squirm and try to sit up, his hang-ups on the favors and the money grating on me, but he flattens a big palm against my chest and pins me to the mattress. I want to say the dominant action pisses me off, but the trickle of my wetness that lands on my sheets proves that’s a lie.

“There is no way I can come eleven times,” I croak, and he scoffs at me.

“Start counting, baby.”

By the fifth orgasm I’m nearly crying from the overstimulation but he’s ruthless, driving me out of my mind with sensation until I’m a sobbing mess over the bed. Number eleven leaves me with numb fingers and toes; I’m fucking destroyed and he’s the most smug asshole you’ve ever seen as he curls me onto his chest. I can feel his dick digging into my belly and I quickly decide that even Avery walking in here right now couldn’t stop me from making him come too. I give myself thirty seconds to figure out how to work my limbs again and then I flip up to straddle his legs.

Harley’s eyes flare but he gets on board with my plan pretty freaking quick, sitting up and pulling me until I’m right where he wants me.

“Get this fucking shirt off,” he mumbles, and I laugh as he rips it off of me. My hips roll down on his, grinding away mindlessly and leaving a wet patch on his boxers. He groans like he’s being murdered, and I swear it’s the hottest noise ever.

“Fuck, babe, these tits.” He bites his lip so hard I expect to see blood, and his eyes worship all of the newly exposed skin. His calloused hands are rough as he cups them, rolling my nipples like he had back at the docks.

“Do they feel fine?” I snark at him even though my breath hitches in my throat and I sound like a tramp. I’m still just a little pissed about his comment last year and fuck it if I’m not going to give him shit for saying it. He doesn’t take any notice of me; all of his focus is centered on my boobs.

His hands squeeze and stroke, he mumbles, “Perfect,” and then he ducks down to suck my nipple into his mouth. Holy sweet lord fuck. I’m dripping. When he moves over to the other nipple, he catches my eye and, with a wink, he growls, “Taste perfect too, babe.”

I moan and try to remember what the hell I’m doing. Right. I’m going to suck Harley’s dick and I’m going to do it right. I pull his face back up so I can kiss him, pulling his hair to angle him just right. Fuck, he’s like a drug.