Page 66 of Beg Me

I brace myself against his chest as he drives into me. Gasping, I squeeze my eyes closed. The line between pleasure and pain is razor thin, and somewhere in that gray area is where I find bliss.

“Markie …” He growls. “You’re so fucking tight that I’m gonna come.”

His words are the dynamite that sets off the explosion in my core.

“Me, too,” I say, my nails digging into his flesh.

“Fuck!”

The sound of our bodies connecting fills the room, our voices joining it as we find our climaxes.

His hips jerk and his body shakes while I clench, gripping his cock. This time, I force my eyes open to watch Jory come apart.

It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.

Sexy. Hot. Beautiful.

He collapses on me, dragging in a breath. I wind a foot over the back of his leg as his forehead rests on mine. I can feel his heartbeat racing against my chest as he lowers himself to give me another kiss. Then he lies beside me with a long, satisfied sigh.

I need a bathroom, but I can’t resist something first.

I turn my face to his. “I told you.”

He hums, his eyes closed.

“I told you that you could be a satisfied man if you wanted to be,” I say, teasing him about what I told him at Patsy’s. “I’m glad you gave it a try.”

He chuckles, pressing another kiss against my lips. “How about a bath?” His eyes open, and he’s looking right into mine. “How does that sound?”

If I’m being honest with him, it sounds like a hundred things all at once. Some of them are sexy, others more sensual, most are relaxing. But the thing it sounds most like is a choice I’m willing to make, regardless of how dangerous it might be.

“I love the sound of that,” I say.

He picks me up again, this time gently in his arms, and kisses me all the way to the bath.

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

Markie

“You lived up to the hype,” Jory says, chuckling beside me.

I pop a piece of popcorn into my mouth and nestle into the pillows. “First of all, I believe you.”

His chuckle turns into a full laugh, his bare chest shaking against my side.

“Second, you’re too much of a gentleman to say otherwise.” I rest the side of my head against his bicep. “So, thank you, but complimenting me was really your only option.”

“Not true.”

“So true.”

He sighs, but there’s humor laced in with his faux exasperation.

The television in Jory’s bedroom is on a sports channel recapping the day’s sporting news. He handed me the remote after we got out of the bath, and he went to pop us a bowl of popcorn. I went through the channel guide until I landed on this show. It was mellow and something that interests us both. Besides, keeping him in a competitive mindset can’t hurt.

Jory’s phone buzzes on the nightstand. He grabs it, studies the screen, types out a response, then tosses it on the bed beside him.