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The Fake Out (Vancouver Storm, #2)(106)

Author:Stephanie Archer

Behind me, he shifts, and his lips are on my back, kissing a trail down my spine. “Do you trust me, Hazel?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” I’m wet and aching, waiting for him to get me off, and my frustration slips through in my tone. “I trust you.”

He makes that low, pleased noise I love. “Good.”

His tongue circles my asshole and my eyes go wide at the warm, wet sensation. A hoarse noise of pleasure chokes out of me and his fingers tense on my hip.

“Have you done this before?” he murmurs as he strokes back and forth.

I’m blinking at nothing, my full attention on where his tongue touches me as heat moves through my body. “No.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes,” I gasp. I’m getting wetter. “Rory,” I moan. “I need to come. I need more.”

“I know you do.” Still, his tongue draws those lazy, slick circles against the tight pucker. “How badly do you want to come?”

My hands clench into fists. “I’m going to fucking kill you later.”

“I have no doubt.” His tongue delves inside me and I moan, high and needy. My spine is tingling. “Oh, fuck, Hazel,” he groans. “You just clenched on my tongue. That’s so good, baby. You’re doing so good.”

I grit my teeth, breathing hard. I’m about to burst out of my skin.

“If you want more, you need to earn it.”

I whimper, teetering on the edge of insanity. This is torture, but I love it. “What do you want?”

“Stay with me here until the League Classic.”

“What?” I can’t think straight when he’s touching me like that. “Until New Year’s?”

He pauses before pressing a kiss to my lower back, exhaling against my skin. “I like you being here. It feels right.”

His words and the way he says them, soft and sincere, settle right into my heart. “Okay. Yes. I’ll stay here.”

I’d probably say anything right now, with the way he has me worked up, but the past few days have been a dream, us in our own little snow globe.

“Say that it feels right.”

“It feels right.”

“Say that if we do this, it’s not the last time.”

My rule. My stupid rule that was supposed to keep me from catching feelings. “It’s not the last time.”

“Good girl.” Is that relief in his tone? “Alright, Hartley.” His hand returns between my legs, rubbing my clit in firm, wide circles with the flat of his fingers, fast and light, exactly the way I need, and goosebumps scatter across my skin. “You’ve pumped up my ego enough for tonight.”

My head sinks to the bed as I tip closer to the edge. The orgasm stirs and builds inside me as he slides his hand over me, his tongue stroking into my back entrance, claiming me, coaxing me closer. Need arcs through me, firing through my blood, and my body seizes up with pleasure as the pressure between my legs reaches a climax.

“I’m coming,” I moan into the mattress as Rory plays with my body, making my toes curl. The muscles in my core tighten, spasming around nothing as his hand works faster. I can hear how wet I am against his hand but I don’t care, I’m just spinning out, gasping and clenching and tightening on his tongue.

Dirty and depraved, I think to myself, but I don’t care. If Rory wants it, I want it.

My pulse roars in my ears as my release subsides and I sink forward onto the bed, but Rory climbs on top of me, straining erection pressing into my lower back as he kisses my shoulder.

“How’re you doing, Hartley?”

“Good,” I moan through the aftershocks, and he chuckles.

“Are you tapped out for tonight?”

I lift up on my elbows with a start and shake my head. “No.” His face is flushed and his eyes are bright. Hair messy and fucked up, just the way I love. “We’re not done.”

His mouth crooks, throat working like he’s holding on to his control. “Good.”

Rory reaches into his nightstand, rips open the box of condoms, and rolls one on.

“Turn over,” he says quietly, and I roll onto my back.

He settles between my knees, cock pressing against my clit, and my breath catches. Rory’s mouth is on my neck, on my shoulder, pressing soft, nipping kisses, and I sink my hand into his hair.

“Don’t be gentle,” I whisper, dragging myself against his length. “Take what you want, Rory. I like it.”

He groans like it’s exactly what he wanted to hear, and then he’s there at my entrance, nudging into me. With ticking jaw and heavy, labored breaths, he pushes into me, watching my expression. I can feel the second release starting as my body stretches for him. He’s too big for me, but the burn is incredible, sending sparks up and down my spine at how full and tight it feels. When his hips press into mine and he’s inside to the hilt, my eyes roll back.