Chapter 24 Amelia #2

“I’m sorry I wasn’t good, ” he says, running his palms slowly up the backs of my calves, the heat of him seeping through the thin silk. “I shouldn’t have hit him, please, I need you.”

I let him kneel there for a moment longer, his eyes locked on mine, before tilting my head and finally speaking.

“Okay.”

His hands still on my legs, grip tightening. “Okay?”

“Under my rules,” I say, voice calm, even though my pulse is racing.

His mouth curves, not into a smirk, but into something hungrier, darker. “I’ll take whatever rules you give me, dollface.”

My fingers slide into his, the cool metal of his wedding ring brushing my skin. “Upstairs,” I say, tugging gently.

Maverick moves without hesitation, following as if I’ve got him on a leash, his long strides closing the gap until his chest nearly brushes my back. “Where exactly are we headed, Mrs. Hayes?” His voice is low and teasing, but a rasp hints he’s not as relaxed as he sounds.

I glance over my shoulder, lips curling. “Bedroom. Don’t act like you’re surprised.”

His mouth tips into a grin. “Not surprised, dollface. Just hopin’ you’re gonna ruin me once we get there.”

My heels click against the wooden floor as I lead him down the hall, up the broad staircase, and straight into the bedroom I’ve already been in once before, though last time I wasn’t planning on this.

I stop at the foot of the bed and turn to face him. He’s watching me with that slow, dangerous grin, like he knows I’m about to break under his charm.

“Lie down,” I tell him.

“You sound bossy.”

“Get used to it.”

He obeys, backing toward the bed until he’s sitting, then stretching out so his long body takes up most of it. His shirt falls open completely, exposing ink and muscle, and his head tips against the pillows, eyes locked on me like I’m the only thing worth looking at.

I grab the roll of black sports tape I saw earlier on his dresser, the same kind he probably uses before games, and rip it sharply as I unspool it.

His brows lift. “And what exactly are you planning to do with that, wife?”

I climb onto the mattress, straddling his hips without warning, the silk of my dress sliding high on my thighs. “Tie you to your own bed.”

He exhales through a laugh, low and filthy. “I’m… so fuckin’ here for this.”

“Glad you approve,” I murmur, gathering his wrists one by one and guiding them up to the cold iron of the headboard. The tape wraps snugly around each. He doesn’t resist, not even a little; if anything, his body relaxes under mine.

When both wrists are secured, I sit back, letting my hands rest on his bare chest. His heartbeat thuds steadily beneath my palms.

“You comfortable?” I ask, tilting my head.

He licks his lips, his blue eyes shining with challenge. “Not even a little. But I think that’s the point, isn’t it?”

“Smart man.”

I lean down until my mouth hovers a breath from his, my hair falling like a curtain around us. “You’re gonna do exactly what I say, Hayes.”

His voice is a gravelly mumble. “Anything you want, dollface.”

I let my lips brush his, just barely grazing, enough to make him chase it, then pull back before he can catch it. “Good boy.”

He lets out a breathy moan as my nails skim down his clothed chest, and he shivers underneath my touch. “You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you?”

He eyes me up and down, his lips lifting into a feral smirk. “Dollface, clearly, I’m letting you tie me up and use me like your own personal toy.”

My brow arches, satisfaction surging through me as I pull the tape one last time. “Big tough quarterback begging to be used? Kinda pathetic.”

His head lifts off the pillow as his lips graze my jaw. “Pathetic is me waking up hard every morning because I dreamed about you sitting on my face. Pathetic is me wanting your cunt more than my next breath. You call it pathetic, fine. I call it the truth.”

Fuck, he doesn’t even flinch when he says it, like it’s not a weakness but a vow.

My laugh spills out because seeing him like this makes me feel untouchable. “So you’re telling me if I told you to get on your knees, you’d do it?”

His groan is guttural as his head tips back against the pillow, throat bared, and his cock twitches against my ass. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby.”

I brush my lips against his, teasing, and fake a gasp. “Fuck, you’re disgusting.”

“Disgusting for you,” he growls shamelessly. His grin is wicked, cocky even as he lies helpless beneath me. “Always for you. You could spit in my mouth right now and I’d say thank you.”

My pussy gets drenched with his words. We’ll see about that then.

I slide my hand down between us, pressing my palm hard against his cock. He bucks up instantly, muscles straining, a broken sound spilling from his throat. My smirk widens. “Jesus, you’re already hard, and all I did was talk.”

“All you gotta do is breathe near me, Amelia,” he groans, hips rutting up helplessly against my hand. His eyes are blown wide, hungry, desperate. “You could ruin me in five seconds flat and I’d still be begging for more.”

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