Page 29 of Played By Design

“You.” My hips rock with impatience. “It’s for you.”

Kain pulls away, and I watch him strip.

His shirt comes off first, exposing all the ink he usually keeps hidden beneath it.

A game controller stretches across one side of his chest among buttons, stars, and a GAME OVER design. Music notes wind toward the center, tangling with darker lines and shapes before giving way to the huge skull covering the other side, its mouth open beneath a backward cap. Butterflies break up the heavier ink, with a treble clef curling over his upper chest.

My attention follows the familiar designs as they shift over muscle.

Then his hands go to his pants.

He shoves them down with his underwear and steps out of both, leaving himself completely naked in front of me.

Kain doesn’t hurry. Doesn’t turn away or reach for anything to cover himself. He just stands there, hard and entirely unashamed of it, stroking his hard length in one big fist as he lets me look for as long as I want.

And I do.

His mouth tips at one corner.

Cocky asshole.

Then he returns to me, settling his body over mine.

“Tell me again.” The broad head of his cock notches at my entrance, pressure building without pushing in. “What do you want?”

“Your cock.” My hips roll, trying to take him, but he holds still. “Inside me. Fuck me. Please, Kain, I can’t—I need⁠—”

His hips flex, and the head of his cock breaches me, the stretch burning in the best way. My breath hitches as my body opens for him, slick easing his way.

It’s been too long with only hand jobs in the weeks leading up to the competition, and I need all of him. Now.

“Again,” he growls into my ear. “Tell me.”

“I want your cock fucking me until I can’t remember my own name.” It pours out of me, ragged and desperate. “Until the only thing in my head is you. Please. Please.”

“Good bunny.” He drives forward in one long, relentless thrust, burying himself to the hilt, and the fullness steals the air from my lungs.

My mouth opens on a silent cry, my fingers gripping his shoulders.

Kain holds there, his cock pulsing inside me, each hot breath washing over my neck.

He withdraws, dragging every inch across the sensitive ring of muscle at my entrance, until only the head remains. With the same unhurried pace, he thrusts back in, his hips rolling against mine, his cock reaching deep, and the pleasure builds in a slow, crushing wave.

My legs wrap high around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back, trying to pull him deeper. Kain’s hands find my hips, and his grip tightens, his fingers biting into the soft flesh hard enough to leave marks.

“Kain—faster—please⁠—”

“Ask nicely.” His pace doesn’t change, those long, grinding strokes setting off every nerve inside me, his cock dragging over my prostate on every thrust.

“Please.” My voice breaks. “Please fuck me faster. I need it. I need you.”

He speeds up, his hips snapping forward, driving into me with enough force to shake the bed. Each thrust punches a sound from my chest, moans falling from my lips with no pause between them.

His mouth finds my neck, teeth scraping over the almond-colored nape guard.

He should have taken it off. I ache to feel his teeth there. His breath comes hot around the carbon fiber, and I whine with the want of it.

“Kain.” His name is a sob. “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”