Page 31 of The Playmaker

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“I think you’ll like this play,” I say, and flatten myself over her. I lower my mouth to her throat and run my tongue along her flesh, until I find a sensitive spot that has her squirming. Her hands race over my back, touching every inch of flesh, like she can’t get enough. Her hard nipples press against my chest, abrade me as I begin a slow path downward,

I find those hard buds with my mouth and suck them in, one by one, giving them a tongue bath, followed by a gentle nibble. Her soft bedroom moans and hard breaths urge me on, and I kiss a path to the hot spot between her legs. Her sex is wide open, completely on display for me, and I take a moment to look at her. She has the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever set eyes on.

“Please,” she begs, the need in her voice—need for me—fucking me up just a little.

“You ready for my next play?” I ask, working overtime to keep my shit together when all I want to do is go at her, to keep the need—far too many years in the making—at bay so I can make this good for her.

“Yes,” she cries out and lifts her hips, until her sex bumps against my face.

“Such a needy girl,” I say, and flick my tongue out to taste her. The world spins around me, as her flavor dances on my tongue. Desperate for a deeper taste, I lick her from bottom to top, and circle her inflamed clit until she’s writing beneath me.

“Cole,” she murmurs, and bucks against my mouth. I center in on her hot core of nerves as I push one finger insider her. She’s so fucking snug, I’m not sure my cock will fit without hurting her.

Her muscles tremble around my finger, and I move it in and out, taking note of her every movement, her every moan and shudder.

“Yes,” she rasps as I work her with my tongue and finger, wanting to stay between her legs for the rest of the night, wanting to make her come over and over and over again for me so I can still taste her on my tongue a week from now. “Fuck me, please.”

Well, look at that. The shy romance writer has a dirty mouth after all. It thrills me that she’s shedding her inhibitions.

“I will,” I say, “but first I want you to come in my mouth. Think you could do that for me, Nina?”

I insert another finger, for a snug fit, and she moves against me. “That’s it. Fuck my fingers,” I say as my cock aches to get inside. I slide my tongue over her clit, changing the pressure as I penetrate her deeper. Her hands grip the sheet beneath her and a little whimpering sound catches in her throat.

I grin to myself. Pretty BallerNina is coming undone for me, and I don’t even want to examine how that’s making me lose my damn mind.

Her muscles clench, and I continue to push into her, but she’s coming so hard I think I might break a finger. I keep fingering her, despite the tightness, wanting to draw out her release until she’s wrung out and strung out. We’re both breathing like mad when her tremors subside, and the glassy look in her eyes does the craziest things to me.

“Cole,” she says, and blinks rapidly. “I can’t believe…that was…I…wow.”

What, has no man ever taken care of her like that before? Brought her to orgasm? I feel equal measures of disgust and rage. I hate that no man has ever done right by her, but then again, I hate the thoughts of another man’s hands touching her.

I rub her pussy, pet it gently, and then climb up her body, peppering her with soft kisses as I go. I settle over her, pin her with my weight, locking her beneath me. Tonight, I want to take her like this so I can see her face when she comes for me again, but tomorrow…well, tomorrow, I might just flip her over and tie her to my bedposts.

Wait, there isn’t going to be a tomorrow.

Her legs go around my back, her feet pushing against my ass, her body telling me what she needs without words. I reach into my nightstand and grab a condom.

Nina goes quiet—too quiet—as I pull it on.

I slide back over her, hold the sides of her head and examine the unease in her eyes. “You okay?” I ask. Jesus, is she having second thoughts? If so, now is the time to say it.

She blinks, and when her eyes open again, lust replaces the discomfort. “I’m good,” she whispers, and inches up to kiss me. My lips meet hers and all thoughts, except getting inside her, fade away.

I move my hips, position my cock at her entrance. Her body opens for me, and in one quick thrust, I seat myself high inside.

Motherfucker, she’s as tight as a goddamn glove, but I somehow knew we’d be the perfect fit.

“Fuck,” I whisper into her mouth as her moans of joy wraps around me. “You feel so good.”

She moves her hips, and I move with her, a little thrown off at just how right this feels.

“I never thought we’d fit,” she whispers. “I was a bit worried.”

Ah, was that the apprehension I felt in her when I reached for the condom?

“I would never hurt you,” I whisper against her damp forehead.

We move together, and she arches up, like she needs me deeper. For some reason, I need that too. I power into her, and her moans ignite everything inside me. We create a rhythm of longtime lovers, lost in this all-consuming need between us. I inch back to see her face, take in the flush on her cheeks as her body sucks me in harder. Her fingers curl in my hair as I ride her with long, deep strokes. Her hot, wet sheath rubs my cock as I slide in and out, and I slip a hand between our bodies to stroke her clit.


Tags: Cathryn Fox Players on Ice Romance