Page 53 of Set Play

A smile pulls at my lips, and I quicken my pace, feeling myself approach my peak, as I lean forward and purr into his ear, “It’s a good thing we’ve got all night then, isn’t it? I think I’ll like seeing you come utterly undone under me.”

Like I flipped a switch with my words, Mateo’s control unravels. His hips thrust up into me at a relentless pace, throwing my own off and making me grasp the headboard behind him for support. “Shit!” The next few thrusts hit just the right spot, driving me right to the edge of my climax.

“Fuck, Chispita. You drive me fucking wild. I’m so fucking crazy for you. Fuck!” His thumb finds my clit again, and I’m gone.

My pussy clamps down on him, and I cry out with my release. Just as his thrusts become erratic and his breath catches, I feel his cock jerk as he follows me in release. I watch in wonder as he grinds his teeth, slamming his eyes closed and head back.

We collapse in a sweaty tangle, panting for breath. “Stay right there,” Mateo breathes, before extricating himself from the bed and heading into the bathroom.

I sit up just as he comes back with a wet washcloth and kneels on the bed. Reaching out to grab it, I’m shocked when he pushes my hand away and spreads my legs apart. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning you up,” he informs me, leaving no room for argument. “Then we’ll eat dessert and hydrate, before I bend you over like you wanted me to.” He shoots me a wink.

I don’t offer a single protest, just allow him to see to his self-assigned task, before throwing on one of his hoodies, thankful it is large enough to cover most of my ass, and heading back to the table.

Dessert is a delicious caramel cheesecake that Mateo insists on feeding me, despite my objections that I am fully capable of picking up my own fork. “Just let me spoil you, Chispita.”

I’d like to see any girl say no to a statement like that.

He also insists that I down said cheesecake with a bottle of water, which I would have done anyway. Once half of the cheesecake is gone, he asks, “What’s your favorite flower?”

“What? Where did that come from?”

“You’re my girlfriend, right? I feel like we should know these things about each other. Like favorite colors, flowers, foods, birthdays, et cetera. Now answer the question.”

“Fine. My favorite flowers are tulips and sunflowers. Lavender is my favorite color, and brunch is obviously the superior food. Uh, my birthday is July eighteenth and I’ll be twenty-five. Let’s see what else….My tattoos all have meaning. The sunflower represents happiness and resilience, the butterfly semi-colon is obviously mental health awareness, and this one,” I say tracing the one on my right wrist, “is French for hope. My maman’s name is Amelie and Papa’s is Nicolas. Oh, and I’m allergic to shellfish.”

“Good to know. My favorite flowers are red chrysanthemums, but my favorite color would have to be emerald green. My birthday is October twenty-third and I’ll be twenty-seven. My tattoos also have meaning. The one on my ribs is the date my parents passed, and the sleeve is a long story, but it matches the one Lukas has on the opposite arm. Mi mamá’s name was Josephine y mi papá was Santiago. I don’t think I have any allergies, but mamá was allergic to mushrooms and so are both Flora and Lukas, so I avoid them, just in case.”

I smile at that. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Big Shot. I have one more question. Why haven’t you been with anyone in five years? If you’re okay sharing.”

“Ah, I should’ve guessed that would come up. My last girlfriend…she, uh, she really messed me up for a long time. I don’t really like to talk about her, but I thought the two of us were endgame, you know? Turns out I was wrong.”

Mateo swirls the spoon laden with cheesecake around the plate despite there being no more drizzle to collect. Eventually, he meets my eyes and continues, “Her interests were more aligned with dollar signs. Not only was she cheating on me, but she was also an informant for the press. She was selling them various pieces of information about me and my family. Hell, she even sold tours through my old apartment."

My mouth drops open with each piece of his past revealed. Holy fuck, I hate this girl. Even five years later, pain swirls in his eyes and coats every word. I don’t know what to say; nothing can make it better or help him heal.

He shakes his head and when he looks back at me, the pain is locked back behind his mental walls. “What about you, Élise? Why has it been years for you?”

“My ex was more interested in using me for my family connections than he was in actually being with me,” I say simply with a shrug, trying to act nonchalant. Like the realization doesn’t still sting.

“Then he’s a fucking moron. His loss is my gain though, so I guess I have to thank him for being stupid,” he says with a smile that forces my own to form in response.

Instead of continuing with our ‘get to know you’ session, I lean in and kiss the corner of his lips. When I pull back to look into his eyes, I can’t help but wonder how the man in front of me is the same man that has made Henri’s life so difficult for so many years.

The thought washes over me like a bucket of ice water.

What the hell am I doing?

This man made my brother’s life miserable.

I’m supposed to hate him. No, I do hate him!

You sure didn’t hate him twenty minutes ago when you were riding his d—

Fuck.

What the hell have I done?