Page 86 of Illicit Games


Font Size:

“Whatever am I going to do with you?” Fooling me by turning limp against my chest, she splashes my face with the water. My lips curl as she tries slipping away, but I catch her elbow at the last second. Twirling her around, I tease, “Bad girl. Are you looking to get punished?”

She pouts, wrapping her legs around my waist under the water. Tugging my head down, she kisses my lips. “I’ll behave.”

We linger and swim in the lake, enjoying the moonlit water. Well, she’s savoring it while I’m enjoying the teasing view of her nipples as she floats on her back. Her half-lidded gaze flicks to mine, catching me staring.

I pull her upright, pressing her front flush against me. Tilting her face up, she smiles. “You were right. It is nice.”

I kiss her cute nose. “Told you.”

After spending another half hour in the lake, we swim to the shore and take the cobblestone path to the deck. I pick the towels from one of the chairs and wrap one around her shivering body. Then tie the other around my waist.

I catch Iris checking me out while biting the corner of her mouth.

“You’re so sexy,” she sighs breathlessly.

I’ve never cared about how I look or come across to others. The world has called me all sorts of names under the sun, all worse than the last. Vicious. Robotic. Manipulative. Icy. Ruthless. Unemotional. It’s all white noise to me.

Except when it comes to Iris.

It’ll crush me if even a small part of her thought I was cold and detached. That I didn’t know how to care or show emotions. A stone-cold bastard.

It will absolutely wreck me.

Icarewhatshethinks.

I swear if I ever find out she thinks I’m unfeeling, even a little, I’ll set myself on fire just so she feels the warmth. I’ll burn every inch of myself so my coldness doesn’t touch her. Harm her.

Still roaming her desire-filled eyes over my abdomen, she steps closer and runs the pads of her fingers up my abs. “I’d give you a hickey too, but you’ll just get it tattooed.”

She isn’t wrong.

Yanking her head back, I arch a brow. “So, you’ve been holding out on me?”

“No.” Her voice is a trembling purr.

I ease my hold in her wet strands. “Do it. Mark me wherever you wish.”

Primal lust darkens her pupils into a deep blue. Running her tongue across the seam of her lips, she drawls, “You’ll need to pick me up.”

I bend and lift her.

Her face dips to my neck over my pulse. Parting her lips, she locks her teeth on my skin and bites down possessively.

“Fuck yes!” Putting pressure on her head, I growl, “Suck harder.”

Moaning, she does.

I don’t care if she draws blood. The deviant part of me wishes she would.

Clutching my biceps, she licks the spot to soothe the ache. I carry us inside, where it’s warm, and walk to the living room. Grabbing the thin comforter from the couch, I bundle her in it after removing the towel that fell to her waist. Placing her on the cushion, I get the fireplace running, while her satiated eyes follow me around.

“Want hot cocoa?” I ask her.

“Yes, please.”

I make my way to the kitchen. As I find all the ingredients and get busy, I sense her presence. The sound of the refrigerator door opening prickles my ear. Twisting my head, her round ass fills my sight as she peeks inside the fridge bent over.

“How much food did you have stocked in here, love? We could live here for months without starving.”