Page 20 of These Wicked Hearts

Gage stills instantly. Instead of giving me what I need he curls over me, the heat of his skin soaking into my back. “I’m sorry, did you still want it?”

I nod fast.

“Say it.” I feel his lips press to my shoulder, and I can just imagine the cocky smirk on his face. “Atlas, answer me.”

“Yes. Fuck yes, Gage!”

Gage exhales through his nose like he’s not satisfied with that. Almost like he’s bored of me. I can feel how not bored he is right now, though. Amusement laces my every thought, and I move, making him slide inside me. He grips my hips hard, instantly preventing me from getting my way.

“What did I say about moving?”

My chest hits the bed. “So mean.”

I think he’s going to tease me again, but instead his hips begin to move. Every thrust builds pressure in my stomach, every slide against my prostate sending shocks of heat and pleasure through my body. I feel him everywhere. My fingers bunch into the sheets with every rough roll of his hips.

“Don’t stop. Don’t be mean to me, please.” And because Gage really is a supervillain, he stops. “You’re evil,” I whine.

I feel his breath tickle my ear. “Am I evil? Or maybe, just maybe, you like it.”

I grunt when he wraps his hand around my cock.

“Oh yeah, that’s a lot of precum for someone who doesn’t like it.” Another slow stroke. I can’t think or breathe. He’s stroking me slowly, my skin vibrating. My fingers twist in the sheets. My hips move back, trying to take him deeper with zero luck. He’s solid around me, unyielding. “Look at you. Can’t even stay still.”

“Then stop teasing me.”

“Ask nicely.”

I let out a sharp breath. “You’re mean.”

Gage’s hand tightens around my cock, just enough to make me suck in air. “Try again.”

I swallow, my jaw clenched. For a second I think I won’t. Because fuck him. Who does he think he is? Then I look back slightly, my head pressed to the bed, and when I look into his dark eyes, I know for certain he knows exactly who the fuck he is.

Gage’s expression shifts into something darker.

“You’re so fucking greedy, huh?” I nod slowly. “Yeah.” He smooths his fingers through my hair.

And just like that his patience is gone.

His grip on my hips turns firm, unrelenting. No more pauses or space to think. Instead, he slams into me, fucking me hard, every punch of his hips controlled. My fingers white-knuckle my pillow before I grip it and fling it somewhere to the side.

“Fuck—” I gasp, hands gripping the sheet with every brutal punch of his hips.

“What, Atlas?” he breathes heavily. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” His voice is low, rougher now. “Come on.”

I try, I really do . . . but the way my body reacts can’t be controlled. My cock drips between my legs. I’ve never felt anything like this. It’s a whole-body pleasure that’s lighting up every nerve inside me. My stomach tightens. It’s painful, but at the same time it feels better than anything I’ve ever felt. I grip my sheets hard as unhinged moans fall from my lips.

Gage doesn’t slow down or give me any time to catch my breath.

Where he held back before he now pushes and tests, watching how much I can take before I start to break. He grips my hair, guiding me upward, then braces his arm across my chest, still thrusting into me. “Look at me.”

I shake my head. I’m not sure why. It’s like I want to test him. He grips my jaw hard and wrenches my gaze to his.

“I said look at me.”

I swallow, snapping my eyes to his.

There’s no more playful teasing. Gage looks like someone else altogether.