Page 96 of Punked By the Playmaker
He cupped my cheek. “When did it stop being fake for you?”
Swallowing, I licked my lips. “When you taught Austin how to shave, then held me as I cried afterward.”
The softest smile touched his lips. “I didn’t realize it back then, but I think I started falling for you when you stepped up for Maisie in the hospital.”
My eyes widened, and I stammered, “F-falling?” That implied love, which was a huge leap from admitting our relationship had become real.
Sheepishly, Levi ducked his head, the tiniest hint of pink coloring his cheeks. “Yeah.”
“B-but it’s been less than a month,” I protested.
“Is it supposed to take longer than that?” he asked earnestly. “This is all new for me, so I don’t exactly have a frame ofreference. All I know is what I feel in here.” Grabbing my hand, he placed my palm flat against his chest so I could feel his racing heart. “And what it’s telling me is that I never want to let you go.”
“I—uh—” Stunned, I was unable to convey a coherent thought.
He pressed a finger to my trembling lips. “You don’t have to say anything back. Just know that I want this—us—for the long haul. And that I’ll spend every waking minute we have together trying to convince you that I can be the man worthy of your love.”
All I could do was blink up at him, at a complete loss for words.
Eyes shimmering with emotion, Levi slid a hand into my hair, cradling the back of my head. “Be mine tonight.”
I managed a shaky nod. “O-okay.”
His mouth descended on mine in a kiss unlike any other we’d shared. Instead of hungry and demanding, it was soft and slow and achingly intimate. The tip of his tongue traced the seam of my lips, and I parted for him on a moan. He dipped inside, teasing and tasting as if we had all the time in the world.
Clutching at his shoulders, I hung on for dear life, never wanting this to end.
Levi’s fingers skimmed down my sides, and I arched into his touch, silently begging for more.
Before I knew it, his large palms found the back of my thighs and lifted. Strong arms carried me across the room before I was set down on the mattress gently, his hot body covering mine.
My back lifted off the bed as he trailed a path of open-mouthed kisses down the side of my neck, a sharp cry tearing up my throat when his lips closed over my nipple through the lace of my bra.
The friction was exquisite, each scrape of his teeth over that sensitive bud sending bolts of ecstasy straight between my thighs. His fingers plucked at its twin, and my core clenched around nothing, desperate to be filled.
“Patience, beautiful,” Levi rasped against my skin as he moved lower, my stomach going concave at the contact.
How was I expected to have patience when the simple act of foreplay was driving me so wild I could barely see straight? If it was this intense now, there was a very real risk that I might spontaneously combust once he was finally inside me.
Calloused fingertips found the waistband of my high-waisted silk panties before tugging them down my legs. Then his tongue darted out, tracing the thick, raised line of my C-section scar before descending lower.
My thighs were pressed wide, his grip firm enough to hold me in place without causing any pain.
His shallow, ragged breaths fanned my slick flesh. The anticipation of the moment he put his mouth on me reached a fever pitch. Frustration leaked over, my needy whine floating toward the ceiling.
The resulting chuckle vibrated through my core—he was that fucking close—and I tried desperately to lift my hips so that I could feel those lips where I needed them most.
My lungs burned, desperate to draw in air. I simply wasn’t able to breathe while I waited for him to put me out of my misery.
Finally, his tongue dragged a path through my slit, and I let out a sigh of relief. But it was short-lived because after one lick, he stopped, his forehead dropping to my mound.
Throbbing and unsatisfied, I dropped both hands to his head and gripped the short strands of his hair. Despite how hard I tried to urge him to resume, Levi didn’t comply.
“Holy hell, I’m sorry,” he panted out the apology. “The taste of you always makes me a little lightheaded, and I just need a minute.”
“Oh.” I let out a surprised exhale.
His fingers flexing on my inner thighs was the only warning I got before he went back to work, eating at my pussy like it wasthe ripest peach. He slurped up my juices hungrily, the sound of it so damn filthy that it only turned me on more, making it so that I soaked his face with never-ending gushes of my arousal.
