Page 148 of Play Dirty

“You didn’t even try to wait,” I murmured against his mouth.

“Didn’t want to,” he said, voice rough.

“That’s becoming a theme.”

“Yeah?” His lips dragged along my jaw, down to my neck. “You complaining?”

My breath didn’t come out steady.

“Not even a little.”

His hands tightened on my hips, lifting me high enough to settle me upon the edge of the counter. The movement was smooth, confident — like he’d already decided exactly how this was going to go.

That shouldn’t have done anything for me.

It did.

“You’re going to get us caught,” I said, even as my hands slid up his shoulders.

“By who?” he asked.

“Ares. Grayson. Take your pick.”

He laughed into my breasts, which by now were bare.

“Let them hear.”

Fuck.

That was such a fucking turn on.

I went wild after that; my fingers curling into his hair, pulling him back to my mouth. Kissing him even harder this time, before shoving him into my breasts again. There was no hesitation left between us — no careful pacing or second-guessing. Just heat, and need, and the way everything between us had always been so effortless, so easy.

He shifted again, closer, pressing me further back along the counter. His hands slid up the outsides of my thighs, moving with obvious intent. I lifted my hips for him…

A second later my panties were down around my ankles. I kicked them off and spread my legs, inviting him in.

The storm rattled the windows. The house creaked around us. Somewhere upstairs, pipes groaned as the heat pushed harder through the old system.

None of it mattered.

The sound of Sebastian’s shorts hitting the floor was music to my ears. He wrapped his arms around my thighs, pulling me to the edge…

“Ohhhhh… Ohhhh fuck…”

He was taller than necessary. The perfect height, considering the counter. I gasped as he pushed into me, wrapping my legs around him. Biting down on his shoulder as he drove all the way in, so hard, so deep, my wetness facilitating the completion of our union.

The kissing started up again; even hotter now that he was inside me. I hooked my ankles to keep him steady as he pumped me deeply, arms over his shoulders, our sweat-soaked bodies pressed tightly together. We reveled in the heat between us, still glistening from our workout. The scent of our arousal. The aftermath of our exercise.

The blast furnace between my legs.

I fucked him hungrily, steadily, his big hands guiding me at the edge of the counter. Sebastian held me suspended against his tight abdomen, his palms warm, his fingers spread over my ass. The storm, the house — all of it ceased to exist for a while. Even the others, upstairs showering. Or maybe even watching, from the doorway. Waiting their turn.

When the moment finally crested — when everything between us tightened and broke and left me clinging to him to stay upright — I realized something that should’ve scared me more than it did.

This wasn’t an accident anymore.

This wasn’t a slip, or lapse of judgment.