The Game That Breaks Us (Us 3)

“You might,” he counters. “Sex complicates things.”

“Everything is complicated, not just sex.”

He swallows thickly. “I feel like such an asshole.”

“Why?” I ask, my brows furrowing together.

“Because I want this,” he whispers, taking my face between his hands and crashing his lips to mine.

He backs me up against the bed, and I fall onto it with his large body over mine. I feel vulnerable naked while he’s fully dressed, but I feel confident he won’t stay that way for long.

My legs wind around his waist and I rub against his jeans. My hands skim under his shirt over his toned stomach, pushing the shirt up as I go. I want it off and he obliges, breaking the kiss long enough to tear it off and throw it into the corner of the room. My heart beats so fast that I think it might fall out of my chest.

He kisses my neck and down my chest, over my breasts, before swirling his tongue around each nipple. I’m pretty sure I whimper. He moves further down, kissing my stomach and then stops, looking at me for affirmation.

I nod. I don’t want him to stop. Ever.

He hooks my legs over his shoulders and swipes his tongue over my pussy.

I really do whimper that time. My fingers grasp at the sheets, his hair, anything to keep me from flying away.

He lifts his head enough to ask, “Does that feel good?”

“Don’t stop,” I plead.

He chuckles but does as I said. I’ve never experienced anything that can compare to the pleasure he makes me feel. This is unlike anything else, and it’s amazing.

My body tingles and I fall over the edge of a cliff. At least, that’s what it feels like. My vision goes fuzzy and I forget to breathe.

Bennett moves back up my body and kisses me. He bites my bottom lip and tugs on it just slightly. I reach for his belt buckle, my hands shaking from the aftershocks of my orgasm.

Bennett grasps my hands, stopping me.

“Are you sure?” he asks again. “We can stop right now. This doesn’t have to go any farther than this.”

I shake my head and push his hands off. “Shut up.”

He chuckles and rolls to the bed, taking me with him so that I’m on top. I undo the buckle and move onto the button and zipper. I move fast—scared that he’ll change his mind. I’m not worried about myself. I’m sure. I want this more than anything.

When I have his jeans completely undone, he rolls me back over and then stands, getting rid of his jeans and underwear in one movement.

“Eager, are we?” I ask, propping up on my elbows. I groan when he wraps his hand around his cock and gives it one sure stroke.

“There’s a hot naked girl lying on the bed. Of course I’m eager.” He reaches for his jeans and pulls out his wallet. He fumbles through it and pulls out a condom, holding it between his fingers.

“I don’t know whether I should be mad or glad that you have that in there.” I narrow my eyes on him.

He chuckles and rips the foil. “Better to be prepared than not.”

He rolls the condom on and then stalks toward me. I lie back on the bed and his large body falls on top of me. He holds his weight above me enough that I can feel him, but I’m not crushed.

He takes my chin between his fingers and tips my head down, staring into my eyes. “I probably shouldn’t admit this, but you have no fucking clue how badly I’ve wanted this—wanted you.”

My throat catches and I reach up, rubbing my fingers over the stubble on his cheek. We don’t say anything. We don’t need to. A thousand words can be conveyed in one look.

He kisses me and pulls back, nuzzling his lips against my ear. “This is going to hurt you,” he warns, “and I’m so fucking sorry for that.”

I brush my fingers through his hair, noting the worry in his eyes. “I’ll be okay,” I tell him. “I’m ready.” I mean that in more ways than one.