The Lover's Game(31)

Slowly, he pulled out his fingers. I opened my eyes in surprise when a soft breeze hit my sex, and I prepared to protest when his hard gaze stopped me.

“You’re not wet enough, and there isn’t enough space for us both in this room. The floor will have to do,” he said, as if that explained everything.

In another swift motion, he swooped me up in his arms, only to lower me down on the hard floor. Lying on my back with my legs spread apart, I felt like his prey, and for a second, I thought he was like a wolf, eager to devour me. The moonlight streamed through the windows, barely illuminating our features. As I stared at him in the semidarkness, I saw his eyes glinting. His lips curled into a forceful smile, and in that moment, he really looked like the wolf I had compared him to. His eyes were squinted, and his teeth sharp. His skin was unnaturally pale. Judging from the way he was leaning over me, he looked like a big creature that was about to kill me.

Come on, Stewart. A wolf? Seriously?

I frowned.

But how? Was this a dream? Was I so drunk that I couldn’t discern reality from fantasy? Peering up at the ceiling, I could see small spots, like stars, and they looked like they were falling, more proof that I was trapped in a dream. The thought pleased me.

Yes, I could deal with it all being just a dream.

A dream was the only explanation for the picture in front of me. I had to be still asleep in his car, or maybe the day hadn’t really happened at all. My gut feeling told me there was more to the fantasy than I was grasping. Sure enough, he shifted from wolf to human being again. Focusing on him was impossible though. The room remained as dark as a big, black hole, spinning, twisting, and turning like a hypnosis picture. Even the stranger looked skewed.

Somewhere, I heard the sound of foil tearing, but I didn’t lift my gaze to look at him. Deep down, I knew I was still afraid of what was to come and that I’d change my mind. I was afraid of his penetrating gaze and of letting myself fall into whatever he had to offer.

The realization that I wasn’t ready flickered at the back of my mind. I took a sharp breath and let it out slowly. It was too late to change my mind, not after I had asked him to join me. In my mind, all I could see was Jett—the way he had smiled at me, the way he had touched me.

Damn it!

I smiled bitterly. That sneaky bastard was already creeping back into my head, consuming me, and my foolish heart just wouldn’t stop loving him. In a distant memory I could still feel the pain of his betrayal, the betrayal of my heart, and a hint of remorse, all intermingled with the knowledge that revenge would never repair the damage he had caused. Because of him, I was sleeping with a stranger. But I had to do it even if it was just a dream.

Banish it. Forget him. Don’t linger.

It was too much. Too painful.

I had to prove to myself that I was strong enough to move on from him, or else I would always compare every man to him, and no one would ever be good enough for me. I had to stop feeling and seeing Jett in every breath I took and in every stranger’s face.

It was no longer about love. It was about releasing the physical pain inside me. It was about freeing myself from my addiction so I could feel alive again.

“You’re pretty,” he whispered, his hand touching my face. I didn’t look up at the stranger, not even when he spread my legs and lifted them until they were almost up to my chin. As he lay down, his hard erection brushed my entry, and his hand rested inches from my face. I shuddered and turned away. The knowledge that he was about to enter me choked me to silence, and yet I still didn’t see it coming.

As he dived in, I gasped.

Holy crap!

He was big and hard. My muscles instantly cramped around his thick, pulsing length, eager to both let him in and push him away.

“Oh God.” I winced and squirmed as I tried to wriggle out from under him, but his hand stopped me.

“Don’t.” It was just a word, but there was something sexy about his tone.

I fidgeted to accommodate his size, and then forced out the breath I had been holding. Slowly, he eased into me, filling me, stretching me, burying himself until I could feel him pulsating deep within my core. I whimpered in protest when he pulled back, only to dive in again, repeating the friction while sending equal jolts of pleasure and pain through me.

“Does it hurt?” His voice was strained with desire and concern.

“Not anymore,” I lied.

“Good.” He wrapped my legs around his hips and eased into me carefully, as if he was afraid he might break me. I doubted he could do more damage when everything was already broken.

His movements of withdrawing and thrusting, each time going a little deeper, sent a jolt of heat through me. Something began to pulsate, strong and hard. I lifted up on my elbows, my mouth finding his in the darkness.