Brutal Game (Flynn and Laurel #2)

“Fine. Still leaves plenty of time if we shut up and get down to it.”

“Fine.” Better than fine. She’d been especially horny of late, probably her body finally getting used to the Pill, or just the benefit of being on the far swing of the depression pendulum, maximum distance from the next inevitable blue phase. Might as well make the most of the hormones while they were on her side. “Let’s get filthy, then.”

“Not too sore?”

She shook her head and tousled his short hair. “Nope. I feel sturdy.” Physically and emotionally. She felt that way more and more, since meeting this man. Crazy how dabbling in such dark fantasies seemed to purge some unseen, unnamed weight from her subconscious. Or perhaps that was just the ease that came from feeling safe in a relationship, accepted and supported. And lusted for.

“Hang on—brush your teeth,” she commanded, and gave his bare butt a good smack when he climbed over her to comply. She watched his body as he crossed the room, all that winter-pale skin and improbable muscle. Way more man than she’d ever imagined she wanted, and so much so that if this affair ended, replacing him would be no less than impossible. No chance two men built like that would be fool enough to fall for her in one lifetime. Her karma wasn’t bad but it wasn’t spotless, either.

He emerged from the bathroom in all his naked glory, eyebrow raised pointedly.

“What?”

“No note on the mirror?”

“I’m not that creative this early in the morning.” Or that disinhibited without a drink or two. “Can we just do plain old fucking?”

“Always.” He all but pounced on her, the covers shoved aside and hands seeking skin—hers warm, his cold. She yelped and laughed and squirmed and they kissed until the ice in his touch melted away.

“How do you want me?” he asked, a low and familiar growl in his voice.

“On top.” She couldn’t always get off first thing in the morning, but she’d stand the best chance if she got to watch that body working above her, that gorgeous, mean face staring her down and her right hand free to assist.

He moved his legs between hers. “You need lube?”

“Probably.”

He snatched the bottle off the shelf, and if his fingers were cool, the gel was frigid.

“Ah, fuck.”

“Don’t think about it,” he breathed, easing two thick fingers inside her. “Think about this.”

Indeed. Or think about what those fingers promised but could never approximate. She looked between them, to the half-hard cock between his thighs. She closed her fist around him. If her hand was cold, he didn’t show it. His eyes shut and his head dropped back, and his groan made her feel like the one on top, the one with all the power. He added a third finger, driving inside her to the rhythm of her strokes. In a minute flat she was all but panting for him.

“I’m ready.”

“I’m not,” he murmured, eyes on his hands, plundering her sex.

She squeezed his stiff length. “Liar.”

“Don’t rush me.”

“Tick-tock, Flynn.”

He knocked her hand aside with something approaching a snarl and fisted himself, angled his crown to her lips. He sank deep, not too fast, but not slow enough. A twinge tensed her and she stilled him with a squeeze of his arm.

“Slow. Just to start.”

“Sure.”

He was different when they weren’t role-playing, but in some ways much the same. He was always intense, whether he was issuing orders or holding her down or propped above her in the sunshine, smiling. Just now he was caught somewhere between tender and impatient, his cock easing in slowly even as his eyes shone with need.

“Better?”

“Yeah. I’m good.” She squirted lube onto her fingertips and he sped up. She watched his body in the silvery morning light, marveling that this room had ever seemed cold.

“Fuck, you feel good.” He close his eyes, hips beginning to rush.

“Ooh.” Another cramp jabbed her, the shock of it stealing her breath.

He stopped. “Too rough?”

“Too deep, I think… I’ll get there. Just give me a minute.”

Always the picture of control, he kept his thrusts shallow. Laurel got lost in her own pleasure, in the glorious view, in the sounds of his soft grunts and the smell of his skin and— “Oh!” A cramp to put the first two to shame.

He slowed. “Okay?”

Her legs seized up, stilling his hips. “Hang on.”

He paused, cock seated deep and pulsing sharply, like a wild creature feigning patience.

“It hurt?”

“I’m crampy. Really crampy. Ow, ow ow ow.” She squeezed her eyes shut as her body twinged around him.

He eased out. “Better?”

She released a breath and nodded. “Yeah, thanks. Jeez, that was new. Felt like you were jabbing me right in the cervix.”

“Sexy.”

“You’re huge, but still, that was weird.”

“Is it because of how rough it got last night?”

“No, probably just some Pill side effect. Like maybe my period’s decided to turn up after all.”

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