Free Wicked Games by Samanthe Beck

passed out from exhaustion. No, not Ian. As long as he had enough condoms and Gatorade, he could go all night. Even as the thought formed in her mind, his cock woke and stretched inside her. Her pelvic muscles apparently took directions from her heart rather than her brain, because they flexed and caught him in a fast, tight hug.
    The move elicited a low groan from Ian. The sound rumbled up from his chest and vibrated through her entire body. Her erogenous zones responded instinctively. He groaned again, this time no doubt because he felt a rush of heat flowing to the spot where his erection twitched to life. His breath gusted against her neck, and she very nearly burst into tears.
    This can’t happen again , her brain warned, but she couldn’t find the strength to tell him to get out. Instead, she said, “You know, when I mentioned I wanted a good, hard, anonymous fuck, I wasn’t looking for two out of three.”
    “Bullshit,” he muttered. “You knew it was me as soon as you rubbed your ass over my lap on the dance floor.”
    The insult stung. Did he really think he’d fooled her up until they’d danced? Like she only recognized him by the feel of his cock? “I knew it was you the minute I saw you. Letting you think otherwise was just”—she lifted her shoulder in a casual shrug—“an entertaining little game. But the game is over and, ultimately, doesn’t change what I want.”
    Apparently she could sting him back, because his eyes narrowed. Then he ground his hips against hers until she bit her lip and moaned.
    “You’re sending mixed signals, Stace. You don’t know what you want.”
    Sadly, she did—she wanted far too much, more than he’d offered—but her stupid, traitorous hips lifted, seeking more from him.
    “Careful. The condom…” He reached down between them and pinched the base of his erection, holding the latex in place. But when he started to pull out, she panicked.
    “Don’t.” Her hands flew down to his hips, and her fingers dug in to hold him still. Don’t leave me empty . Not yet .
    “Stacy…” He swore under his breath when she sank her fingernails into his skin and squirmed beneath him. “It’s going to leak. Or break.”
    “I don’t care.” She didn’t. Not one bit. All she cared about was keeping him inside her for a few last, precious seconds.
    Ian laughed, low and humorless. “You can’t handle a relationship with me, but you’re ready to have my baby?”
    Yes. I love you. I’d love to have your baby. Instead, she said lamely, “It’s the wrong time of the month.”
    “I could play that game when we were together, but not now.”
    Knowing he wouldn’t change his mind, she forced herself to let go of him. She closed her eyes and turned her head to the side so he wouldn’t see the tears threatening to spill down her cheek. “Aren’t you the responsible one?”
    “Yeah, and you’re the dangerous one.” Despite the temper in his voice, he moved slowly and gently, but she couldn’t hold back shivers of reaction as he pulled out. Normally he’d press his big, warm hand between her legs and massage her as he vacated, to make it nice for her, maybe get her off one more time. But tonight he eased out and left her there, knees bent, legs spread, body aching like a wound.
    She sat up and glared a hole through the back of his head while he turned and disposed of the condom. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Christ, I should paddle your ass for real. Dancing around tonight in that outfit, teasing every cock in the place.” He faced forward again and raked her with his gaze, and the heat of it sent a wave of longing to her overstimulated clit.
    To cover the reaction, she tossed her hair back and laughed. “Are you jealous, Ian?” Hopefully nothing in her expression gave away how deeply she wanted him to say Hell yes .
    She must have fooled him because he grabbed her jaw and brought her face close to his. “I’m wondering if you’ve lost your mind,