Five #2
I swallow a moan as his thumbs slide up my thighs and dip inward. He watches me as I watch him play my body, proving why he’s the one in control.
“Spence, please…”
“Please, what?”
“I can’t take anymore.”
I can’t. This night—the constant back and forth teasing and the evasive cat-and-mouse game—has reached a climactic apex I can no longer endure.
With a slight turn, he not-so-gently throws me facedown onto the bed. I don’t care. There’s nothing gentle about being with Spencer. Both of us are hungry, and tender has no place in our world.
Following me onto the bed, he molds his chest to my back and twists my chin to face him. “Say that I win you, Charity.”
His face darkens with a wild, smoldering need that takes my breath away. Desire rushes through my veins. His raw intensity coupled with the way his lips curl beats the natural argumentative side of me into submission.
Cupping his cheek with my free hand, I break. “You win me.”
The last word barely leaves my mouth when he drives into me. I cry out, my head spinning with every chaotic thrust. I’ve been with plenty of men in my life, but the way Spencer possesses me makes me feel virginal.
Claimed.
Owned.
As he sets the tempo, I dig my nails deeper into his forearm, marking him. I don’t care if I draw blood. I’d carve my name in his skin if I could. The rush of the chase, the thrill of the score, and the pinnacle of the conquest converge together and melt into every powerful drive of his body.
“Fuck, Charity,” he groans, dragging his lips across the back of my neck. His breathing quickens as he increases his speed, then, out of nowhere, he grabs a fistful of my hair, all but stopping the frenzied pace he’d created.
Turning my head as best I can, I stare back at him. “Something wrong?”
He locks gazes with me, never changing his expression. “Who are you?” When I don’t answer fast enough, he slams his hips into me again, demanding more forcefully, “Who. Are. You?”
“Charity St. James,” I wail, my body climbing to a staggering crest.
“Who. Are. You?” he grits out a third and final time.
Then it hits me what he wants. With a slow, seductive smile, I drop my forehead against the pillow and sigh. “Your wife, Mr. St. James.”
The minute his name passes my lips, he thrusts one last time, embedding himself so deep, it feels as if I absorb his whole body. “You’re damn right, you are.”
Tremors consume me as he comes with a guttural roar. Lightning bolts charge through my body as I dig my fingernails into the sheets. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch a half-smile form on his lips.
Dusting kisses across my back, Spencer gathers me in his arms and rolls us both, tucking me into his side. There’s a few moments of comfortable silence, before he finds his voice. “Tonight was fun, but tomorrow’s another day, Mrs. St. James. Try not to lose so easily next time.”
I let out a very unladylike snort and untangle our legs. “What makes you think I lost?”
He blinks in confusion. “You said it yourself, Charity. You said I won not ten minutes ago.”
A mischievous smile coats my face when I feel him stir to life beside me. Since the day I met him, Spencer’s body has always responded to a challenge and an insult much faster than emotions and declarations of love. It’s half of why we work as a couple.
“No, I said you won me. And you did. Because I wanted you to. But you didn’t win the bet.”
His lips tighten in a thin line. “How do you figure? Two AmEx Blacks trump everything tucked in that boot of yours, wife.”
I fling my head back with a hearty laugh. “Spence, do you think those cops showed up because Paulie was sweating over a few hundred-dollar bills?” I roll my eyes toward the ceiling. “Please.”
Grasping my chin, he forces me to face him while steadying a hardened stare on me. “What the hell did you do?”
Holding his gaze, I reach under the pillow for my ace in the hole.
For eight years, Spencer and I have played this game.
It started out as a competition for dominance in our marriage and quickly grew to nightly foreplay.
Sometimes he wins the bigger score for the night, sometimes I do, but the end result is always the same—shared rewards between the sheets as the sadistic team we’ve always been.
Only tonight, I raised the stakes.
Holding up the silver ring, I dangle the keys to Paul’s brand-new Mercedes-Benz in Spencer’s face and watch the sweat trickle down his temple. “I win.”
The layer of shock soon melts into pride, and laughter rumbles deep within his chest. Sliding his hand up the inside of my arm, he closes his hand around mine, locking the keys between our two palms. “You realize this is grand theft auto, right?”
“Yes.”
“And you could go away for a very long time, right?”
“Yes.”
“Have you driven it yet?”
“Just to move it. I was waiting for you to take a joyride.”
Biting back a smile, he nips my ear. “New York or California?”
Tapping my index finger to my bottom lip, I pause in mock thought. After giving enough of a dramatic pause, I lift an eyebrow, reach toward the nightstand and pull a quarter from the wad of cash I’d placed there earlier. “Heads or tails?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, a glint in his eyes. “I plan to get both.”
“You’re insatiable, Mr. St. James.”
“Not as much as you, Mrs. St James.”
Balancing the coin on my thumb and forefinger, I hold his gaze as I flip it in the air. Neither of us exhales until it lands on the soft mattress, proudly displaying the next chapter in our lives.
Spencer’s eyes light up, and he grabs me around the waist, pulling my legs out from under me until I lay flat on my back. “Think they’re ready for us?”
Taking in the rumpled sheets littered with diamonds, emeralds, credit cards, and cold, hard cash, I flash a conspiratorial grin. “They won’t know what hit ’em.”
The End
Like strong women like Charity and possessive alphas like Spencer who can’t get enough of them? Check out my frenemies-to-lovers romance, Shallow.
Shiloh is a Hollywood A-lister.
Cary is an ex-con turned MMA fighter.
Together they’re gasoline and a lit match.
Forget what you’ve been told…
Revenge is a dish best served scorching hot.
Being bad just got good.
Keep reading for a sneak peek at Shallow!
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