Page 17 of Game Misconduct

I tug her hair out of her ponytail. The copper waves flutter down around us. Carding my fingers through the strands, I massage her scalp.

Against her will, she leans into the contact.

“I see this incredibly intelligent woman who just shattered in front of me.” I press a kiss to her temple, my hands trailing over her rolls. “I see curves that are so delicious, I can barely think straight.”

She turns her head away. “They aren’t.”

Gently, I tip her chin until she faces the mirror again, and I wait for her to open her eyes. When she does, I cup her breasts, kneading them and tugging at her nipples until her mouth drops open.

“Your tits are glorious.”

“They’re just tits,” she mutters.

“Fucking glorious,” I repeat, hardening my tone. “I could lose myself in them all day. And this ass.” I grab a handful. “The things I want to do to you…”

Bex rolls her eyes. “Fine. I’ve got tits and an ass. I’ve also got…” She waves a hand at the mirror.

I run my hands down her flank, and she shudders, but she doesn’t look away. When I cup her big belly, she flinches.

“You are absolutely fucking gorgeous,” I tell her. “And I hate that you don’t believe it. I want to go back in time and kill whoever put those fucking thoughts in your head.”

Her breath catches.

“You have a kind face, and the cutest fucking little nose, and this mouth—fuck, I would love to see your lips wrapped around my cock,” I tell her truthfully. “I want to worship every fucking inch of your goddamn beautiful body.”

From head to toe, she stills, and she can’t meet my eyes in the mirror.

“There is not a single goddamn part of you that’s not perfect.” When she doesn’t react, I tighten my arms around her, pulling her back until her ass is flush to me. My hard cock presses into the small of her back, and her mouth drops open. “If you think you’re not the woman of my actual fucking dreams come to life, I… I’ll…”

Bex scoffs again. “Nope. Not buying it. You probably hook up with supermodels. I’m just convenient. An easy lay.”

“Supermodels are boring,” I tell her flatly. “I like a woman who knows what she wants and goes after it. And you do. I like a woman who is unapologetically herself and doesn’t give a shit who knows it. And you are.” I cup her belly again. “And I like a woman I don’t have to be afraid will snap like a twig. And you won’t.”

She swallows. “But…”

“You’re fucking beautiful, babe.” I kiss her temple again. “I don’t have the words to adequately explain how fucking exquisite I think you are.”

Moving my hand between her legs, I ease the elastic of her panties down her hips, then down her thick thighs. And when she steps out of them, my hand darts to her cunt, tracing her clit so she can watch in the mirror.

She shudders, her head falling against my shoulder.

“Watch.” My voice is hoarse. “Watch how fucking beautiful you are when you come apart.”

Spreading her, I expose her clit and press against it with the heel of my palm as I slip two fingers inside. Her greedy cunt clutches at me. Wherever her head is, this part of her wants me, wants this.

Her walls flutter around my fingers, and Bex tenses, her mouth falling open and her eyes squeezing shut. Immediately, I pull back.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

In the mirror, I watch her swallow before she turns around and shoves my chest. I take a step back, removing my hands from her body.

She steps around me, going for her bag.

“Babe?”

When she turns around, she’s holding a strip of three condoms and a small packet of travel lube.

“I’m allergic to latex,” she says. “You still want to do this?”