Page 81 of Game Misconduct

thirty-one

. . .

Bex

I can’t hide my nerves as I do as he demands, hovering over his face.

“I said sit,” he snaps, yanking my hips back. The authority in his voice sends tingles down my spine, heat coiling deep in my gut.

Yeah, I can get used to this.

His nose brushes over my clit as he positions me the way he wants, angling me until his soft lips connect with the sensitive bundle of nerves. The pressure of his fingers curling into my ass, kneading my cheeks, helps ground me in this moment.

And the first sweep of his tongue over my clit, the scrape of the stubble on his chin, sends me soaring into the clouds again. I’m anchored to this plane of existence by his hands on me, one of which drops to my thigh, rubbing small circles.

I don’t know the last time I was able to let go. To release all the tension coiled tight in my body, to relax. This morning in my office, even with the door locked, I kept waiting for someone to walk in. As hot as the idea of getting caught makes me, hooking up at work was a stupid, risky move. Both of our jobs would be on the line. Mine more than his.

“Hey,” Nick murmurs against my skin. “Stop thinking. Just feel.”

I take a deep breath, then release it slowly, letting my eyelids flutter closed. Doing my best to listen. To obey. For the first time, I’m not worried about what I look like. Do I have too much body hair for his preference, or not enough? I’m not worried about my fat ass or my thick thighs or my giant belly.

He’s made it clear he likes me, inside and out. No matter the insidious lies my brain wants to spin, I have to believe him.

Because he’s in charge so I don’t have to be. I don’t have to make any decisions, to stay hypervigilant of everything going on around me. He’s promised to take care of me. Now I have to let him. Now I have to trust him.

My hands fall to his chest, his firm pecs a satisfying cushion for my fingernails. The light scrape of his hair beneath my palms and the pounding of his heart keep me grounded in the present. This isn’t a fantasy; this is my reality.

He eats at me like a man starved, like he’s genuinely enjoying himself and not doing this simply to check a box on a foreplay to-do list. As I watch, his cock twitches against his lower abs, a streak of sticky precum shining on his skin. Huh. I guess he does like this.

A fuzzy sort of static starts up in the back of my brain, my thoughts fading in and out of clarity as I focus on the pleasure he’s giving me, on the sensations coursing through me. I clench my thighs, the sensitive skin at the apex abraded by his stubble, and that is what forces me over the edge.

A scream rips from my throat as I climax, the waves of euphoria rolling through me. Nick doesn’t give up, not until I’m achy and oversensitive. I lift off him, and this time he lets me.

My legs are wobbly as I tip over onto my side, then burrow into his chest. His arm slides over my shoulders, holding me close. I tangle my leg with his, needing the physicality of his presence, the scratch of his leg hair against my skin, the beating of his heart beneath my cheek.

Nick lifts my chin with his finger, drawing my attention to him. “How are you doing?”

“’M good,” I slur, my eyes heavy.

“That wasn’t too much? We didn’t talk about ground rules.”

“I’ll let you know if you come close to crossing my limits. I’m not interested in a full-on Dom/sub relationship, but I’m more than happy to cede control.” Especially if it gets me orgasms like that.

“I can go either way, so it doesn’t bother me.” He drops a kiss on the top of my head. “Whatever you need. We can try something new at any time.”

“I’m glad we can talk about this.”

He scoffs. “If we can’t talk about sex, we shouldn’t be having it. You never need to be scared or ashamed of telling me what you need. My job is to give it to you as best as I can.”

Arching an eyebrow, I smirk. “Give it to me, huh?”

His chuckle vibrates under my cheek. “I mean, whenever you want, I’m down for that, too.”

“How about now?” I’ve had enough of a breather. As I move to sit up, he releases me, scooting back to rest against the headboard. “Let me go get a condom.”

The mattress jostles as he leans over and reaches for his bedside table. “I’ve got it.”

I stop him before he goes too far. “I’m allergic to latex.”