Page 34 of The Rival's Obsession
I unbutton him. Lower his zipper and let my eyes follow the trail of short, dark curls where they disappear beneath the band of his fitted boxers.
He lifts his hips slightly to help as I slide his slacks down just enough to free him.
And fuck… he’s big.
Thick. Heavy. Hard.
I look at it the way a starving woman looks at a feast, and when my gaze flicks up to his, he’s wearing that proud, cocky smile that tells me he saw the moment I became impressed.
“I fucking love it,” I murmur, licking my lips, “when my clients have big cocks.”
He groans again, low and deep, as I wrap one hand around him.
My fingers don’t touch on the other side.
So I bring in a second hand—one stacked above the other, moving together, squeezing and stroking in a rhythm that’s smooth and slow.
His groan travels straight to my clit, and it throbs in response—desperate for pressure. For anything. For everything.
God, I’d love to sit on his face.
But if I do that… he can’t answer my questions with his mouth full of my pussy. And I have questions.
So we draw again.
I keep one hand moving up and down his length, stroking him with purpose, just long enough to flip my card.
Ace of diamonds.
Finally.
My voice is steady, sweet, and sharp as a blade.
“Whatever happened… is that the reason you use sex like a shield?”
For a moment, there’s only the crackle of the fire and the soft sound of jazz wrapping around us like smoke. His jaw tightens. His eyes narrow—but not with anger. With precision.
He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t try to deflect.
Instead, he leans back just slightly, his voice rough with restraint, low like a secret.
“Let’s just say… it’s easier to fuck than to feel.”
The words roll out with perfect control—measured, detached—but I catch the muscle twitch in his jaw, the flicker of something raw behind his eyes.
It’s not an admission, but it’s not a denial either.
Because denying it would be a lie.
And we both know it.
It’s exactly the answer I wanted—crafted like armor but heavy with truth.
My smile deepens. My hand never stops moving on his cock.
And the game continues.
It’s Dante’s win.
