Page 17 of Played By Design

Kain lies on his side, facing the window, one arm bent under his pillow. His breathing is deep and even, the rhythm of someone who’s been asleep for a while.

I don’t turn on any lights as I unload my devices onto the dresser, strip down to my boxers, and crawl onto the mattress.

A chill from the sheets seeps into my palms as I work my way under the blanket. Kain’s body heat radiates from the center of the bed, a warm zone I navigate toward.

Lying down on my side, I wiggle backward until I snuggle into the curve of Kain’s body, my head on his pillow, my arm stretched out along the empty bed in front of me.

Kain stirs, his breath hitching, and one arm hooks around my waist. He draws me flush to him, his chest covering my back, his knees fitting behind mine. His arm settles across my ribs like a weighted blanket, and his palm rests just below my sternum.

His pheromones surround me, his breath warming the back of my neck. Each inhalation lifts his chest into my back, the rhythm steady and slow.

His fingers twitch once at my ribs, a small, unconscious movement, and then fall still.

The music drifting through the room changes, and After Dark seeps through the bedroom speakers, a deep guitar progression, slow and unhurried, the notes falling like water into a still pool.

My tired brain catches on the melody.

Kain recorded this one in our old apartment, using a closet he’d lined with blankets as a tiny sound booth. I had sat cross-legged in the hall on the other side of the door, waiting for hours while his fingers found the pattern.

The Alpha at the bar surfaces in my thoughts. The way he leaned in, his thigh flush with mine in the booth. How he said the quiet ones are always fun in bed.

Is that true? I don’t think of myself as particularly quiet. Kain has never complained, though.

My attention shifts to the Alpha curled around me, and I remember the last time Kain had me on the couch, his hand braced on the cushion by my head, the other on my sternum, holding me down.

Heat gathers in my hips, the pulse of blood thickening my shaft.

Restless now, I shift, backing into Kain’s hips, the outline of him firm against my ass. The contact sends a jolt through my dick, drawing a whine from me as liquid heat leaks from my entrance.

Kain stirs, his breathing pattern changing from the steady rhythm of sleep to quiet alertness. “Are you having a hard time sleeping?”

My hand finds his where it rests over my racing heart, and I move it down. I press his warm, dry palm flat over my erection, the cotton of my boxers the only barrier between his skin and mine.

Kain’s fingers close around me over my underwear, and he begins to stroke, his thumb finding the head of my dick through the cotton and circling.

“Did you play Dusk Protocol after I went to bed?” he asks, his breath warm over my nape.

“No,” I gasp, hips rocking.

His head lifts, and even in the dark, his attention pins me in place. “Then what brought this on?”

“I was thinking about an Alpha at the bar,” I say.

Kain’s grip on my dick tightens as a growl rumbles up from his chest and vibrates through every place our bodies meet. “Don’t.”

His body shifts behind me, all that lazy relaxation replaced by tense muscle. His hand leaves my dick to spread over my lower stomach, fingers digging into the soft flesh above my hipbones. His cock grinds into my ass, solid and demanding even with the fabric separating us.

His mouth finds the back of my neck, teeth scraping over my bare nape. I must have taken the guard off when we got home, but I don’t remember doing it.

Pleasure streaks down my spine, and my hips jerk backward as slick dampens my boxers. “Kain.”

His hand slides under the waistband of my underwear and wraps around my dick, his calloused palm rough and hot on my skin. He pumps my hard length, his thumb catching the bead of pre-cum at my tip and spreading it down the shaft.

A needy whine escapes me, and my hips push forward into his grip. “Want you inside me.”

“No,” Kain growls into my nape. “Not until after the competition.”

I whine and roll my ass over his cock, my dripping entrance primed and empty. “Kain…”