The Game You Play (Rixon Raiders 2)

He rocked back, standing at the foot of the bed. His tight-fitting boxers left very little to the imagination and I almost came right there when he grasped himself, squeezing roughly.

“Jason...”

“What do you want, babe?”

Everything, I wanted to say. But instead, I squeaked, “You.”

Eyes dark and hooded, he climbed back over me, kissing me deep and hard. Our tongues danced a fast-paced rhythm, tangling and swirling together until I wasn’t sure where I ended and he began.

His hard length rocked against me, making me wetter, needier. My sexual experiences left little to be desired compared to this. Jason was barely even touching me and I felt him everywhere; my synapses firing off in all directions, heat swimming in my veins.

My hand glided down his hard abs, cut to perfection from hours and hours of physical conditioning. But when I grazed his dick, Jason snagged my wrist, pinning it to the mattress at the side of my head.

“Patience,” he said against my lips before diving back into the kiss. His tongue stroked every inch of my mouth before he moved to my jaw, drifting down the slope of my neck and along my collarbone. I writhed against him, desperate for him to end the sweet torture. But something told me he was only just getting started.

The thought both exhilarated and terrified me.

On a normal day, Jason was a lot to handle. Too much. But like this—half-naked, his skin pressed up against my skin, his mouth latched onto my neck, his hands curled into the flesh on my hip—he was lethal.

Jason broke the kiss again but only to move down my body. He dipped his tongue into my navel, swirling it around. Something so insignificant wasn’t supposed to feel so erotic, but it did. My toes curled, my body aching to be closer to him.

“These need to go,” he whispered against the inside of my thigh, dragging my panties down my legs. I was naked now, fully exposed to the guy I knew would never give me everything I needed.

Everything I wanted.

But I couldn’t find it in myself to care, not with his mouth hovering over my most intimate place. “Has anyone ever kissed you here?” he asked huskily.

“N- no,” I panted.

He grinned wickedly before diving for me. His mouth and tongue hot and heavy as he licked and stroked. Jason pressed a finger inside me, then another. I moaned, his name falling from my lips like a prayer.

“You taste so fucking good.” His other hand trailed back up my body, resting between my breasts, pinning me to the bed as he dived back in, eating me with an intensity that had me moaning and bucking

off the mattress.

But Jason was a tease. Pulling away every time I almost fell off the edge. Taunting my warm skin with tiny kisses along my inner thighs, rewarding my cries with a deeper press of his fingers. My hands fisted his hair, desperately trying to move his head to where I needed him most, but he was strong.

And I was a breathless wrung out mess.

“Jason, please...”

Finally, he relented, attacking me with his mouth, his tongue licking and flicking my clit with fervor. My body began to tremble, the force of my orgasm tearing through me before I had time to prepare myself.

Jason climbed back up my body, licking his fingers clean before tracing them over my lips. “See how good you taste.” I sucked one into my mouth, high on the lust burning in his eyes, the carnal growl rumbling in his chest as I tasted myself on his finger.

“I think I’m dead,” I breathed out, barely able to form words.

“They don’t call me God for nothing.” He smirked before kissing me, long and deep and painfully slow.

“I want to feel you,” I yawned, my hand drifting down his cut abs.

“Later,” he insisted, rolling off me and tucking me into his body, my back to his solid chest.

“Are we spooning?” I asked, confused he wanted to cuddle rather than have sex.

“You’re exhausted,” was all he said as the weight of what had just happened settled over us. After a couple minutes of silence, I asked, “Jase, what are we doing?”

He stiffened behind me and I half-expected him to get up, yank on his clothes, and make a run for it. But he didn’t. His lips pressed tiny kisses along my shoulder, stirring a fresh wave of desire in my tummy.