Page 149 of Play Dirty

This was a choice.

This was on purpose.

I saw it in his eyes first; they glazed over and rolled back, fighting a losing battle. They met mine pleadingly, desperately working to maintain the last of his control.

“You want it, don’t you?” I chuckled into his mouth.

I was on the edge myself, but I didn’t tell him that. It was more fun this way.

“Yes,” he breathed.

“What?”

“I said yes!” Sebastian pleaded. “God, yes.”

His thrusts had slowed down at the penultimate moment. He was at his absolute limit. The very maximum he could hold onto, without letting go.

“You want me to tell you?” I teased. “Would you like that?”

Sebastian’s eyes locked on mine. He looked through them. Into me.

He nodded, rapidly.

“Come.”

It happened before the word fully passed my lips. Before I even finished speaking the breath that carried it to his ears.

“Come inside me,” I whispered, digging my heels in to draw him close.

He didn’t so much ejaculate as he exploded, grunting and groaning, clawing me tighter against him as he shoved my thighs as wide as they could go. I felt my hips crack. My back straighten as he pushed all the way into me, thumping away, spraying my insides with his warmth and wetness, while burying his face against my neck.

Then my own climax hit, and I collapsed around him. Folding him into me with all four of my limbs, as my body shuddered and my legs quivered and everything turned a stark, beautiful white.

For a while we disappeared, connected by heat, by fire, by everything. There was no rush to return to earth. No hurry to float back to reality, as we held each other, our bodies still shaking.

It was a slow clap that snapped us back to the present. The kind that made you instantly aware you weren’t alone.

Grayson stood in the doorway, hair wet, a towel draped around him. Ares stood just behind him, arms crossed. Same shit, different towel.

“We eat there, you know,” Grayson nodded to the countertop.

I looked him dead in the eye, then kissed Sebastian. It was a long, slow kiss. A meaningful kiss.

The kind of kiss that invoked a challenge.

“Your bed or mine?” Grayson called over his shoulder, to Ares.

“Hers,” Ares replied calmly. He crossed the room and slung me effortlessly over his shoulder.

I was still hot. Still heaving.

Still filled with Sebastian’s warmth.

“She’s reaping the benefits,” Ares explained. “She might as well be the one to clean the sheets.”

All I could do was let out a choked squeal, as Ares carried me off. He brushed past Grayson, who fell in behind him on the way out.

“Besides,” Ares added, shifting me slightly on his shoulder. “I don’t want you having home ice.”