Page 333 of End Game

“Yes.”

She does it again.

Harder.

“Fuck.”

Her smile appears against my skin. “You like that.”

I’ve seen her aggressive, but this is something different. Something more.

Then her mouth is back on me.

She takes her time.

That's probably the first sign I've made a mistake.

Cami doesn't generally take her time when she's this turned on.

She likes chaos.

Immediate gratification.

Tonight she has apparently decided she has all fucking night.

She straddles one of my thighs—her thigh brushing my balls without contact on my cock.

At first, I think it's accidental.

Then she moves.

Slow.

Deliberate.

I harden more as she rolls her hips against me.

Her eyes close.

Fuck.

She's using me.

She's not even pretending this is for me.

She's grinding herself against my thigh because it feels good, and I can't put my hands on her hips or change the angle or do one goddamn thing except watch her.

Fucking hell. “That's it, baby.”

Her eyes open.

I didn't mean for the praise to come out that rough.

The effect on her is immediate.

Her hips press harder against me as her breathing grows more erratic.

“Take what you need.”