Page 69 of Set Play

Élise

“Not this shit again! Qu'est-ce que tu fous? What do you want from me?1”

Mateo’s conflicted gaze meets mine and just when I think he’s going to back down, his irritation finally boils over. “I just want you to fucking tell me what the hell is going on with you!”

I cringe when the words echo in the small space between us.

Lowering his voice and forcing the words to come out much more calmly, he continues, “I’m sorry, but this rollercoaster is not one I bought a ticket to ride, Chispita...I don’t know how to act around you anymore.”

My glare doesn’t lessen in the slightest, but at the last sentence, I roll my eyes to the ceiling. “Oh mon Dieu! I’m not telling you what’s going on because there’s nothing to tell. I’m sorry, but this is a fake relationship. I don’t owe you anything outside of our public commitments, which I have kept up with.” I regret the words the second they leave my mouth, but I refuse to take them back.

I’m so fed up with being manipulated.

Is my anger unfairly being aimed at Mateo right now? Yes, but he decided to keep pushing, so that’s his problem.

Guilt pinches in my chest when I see him flinch at my words, but by the time my eyes find his, there’s no sign of pain. Only a rage to match my own.

“So that’s it then? You just wanted a hookup?”

I turn away, needing to collect my thoughts before I say something else I regret, when suddenly, I’m pinned against the wall. One muscular arm slides over my collarbone, sending a shiver of delight and apprehension down my spine.

Delight wins out when Mateo gently cuffs my throat and tilts my head back and rests it against his chest. “You mean to tell me that this has been nothing but a convenient means of getting off while we fix the press issue?”

Working to swallow around my anxiety, I close my eyes. I know he can feel the motion of my throat bobbing; his hand tightens slightly while his thumb grazes my pulse point.

“Y-yes,” I whisper, hating that it lacks my earlier confidence. Unnerved, I shift my weight from one foot to the other, causing me to accidentally brush my ass against his groin.

A low groan reverberates from his chest, snuffing out some of my anger. Mon Dieu, does he have to make such sexy fucking noises?

My movement must give Mateo an idea. His breath catches and when he speaks, his voice is gruffer than a moment ago. “Do I need to make you talk, Élise?” He thrusts his hips against me, making sure I not only feel his rapidly hardening erection but that I understand his meaning.

I attempt to pull away but freeze when his free hand slips down from my waist to toy with the top of my slacks. He deftly flicks the button open and eases his hand down to tease me over my panties. When my hips jerk and a soft whimper escapes, Mateo chuckles deeply before he taunts, “Just tell me and I’ll give you what you want, Chispita.”

“And what the hell would you know about what I want?” My retort is intended to sound sharp and biting. But that all goes out the window as it ends with a moan when he increases the pressure against my clit.

Oh, look. There went my pride with it.

“I think you’d like to come. I think you’d like to come on my cock. But if you won’t tell me, I’ll just keep teasing you.” His hips drive up against the curve of my ass again.

“Bite me, Reyes.”

“With pleasure,” Mateo hums in my ear.

I don’t have time to question his meaning, before a sharp pain in my shoulder yanks a cry from my mouth. Ce trou de cul actually fucking bit me!2 He soothes the pain with his tongue before pressing his lips to the spot. “You make the prettiest sounds, Chispita.”

I attempt to say something else, but at the same instant, Mateo applies even more pressure, this time to both my throat and my clit. He’s barely touched me, and my body is already trembling.

Merde.

“Tell me, Élise. Tell me and I’ll sink my fingers right in you.” He presses a finger to my opening through the fabric, alternating between shallow thrusts there and flicking my clit.

“N-no.” It’s the only word I manage, and I regret it immediately.

Mateo freezes, and tips my head to the side, letting us make some eye contact. “Maybe you’ll be more compliant after an orgasm.”

The pressure on my clit resumes, but his movements are faster, more motivated.

I want to hold off, to deny him this win, but he’s too fucking good at this. A coil low in my belly winds tight and pathetic noises pour from me with each stroke of his fingers. “Fuck, Reyes.”