Read Sweet Victory: A Novella (His Wicked Games #2.5) for Free Online

onto mine, and I spread my legs and let his groin press against me. He’s rock hard beneath his jeans, and I wriggle a hand between our bodies to try and touch him.
    “I can think… of one more thing… I can do with my tongue,” I rasp between the incessant attacks of his lips. I give him a squeeze for good measure.
    Calder groans in response, and he tears himself away from me to sit back on his heels.
    “Is that what you want?” He unzips his pants, setting himself free for the second time tonight.
    “You know what I want,” I purr. I sit up and crawl toward him.
    But I’ve hardly parted my lips before he reaches out and grabs me by the hair, pulling my head back from his hard length.
    “My, but we’re eager tonight,” he says. “Tell me, Lily. Tell me what you want.”
    “I want you.”
    “So we’re playing coy now?”
    “I want to suck your cock,” I say obediently.
    That seems to satisfy him. His eyes flash, and he releases my hair and stands up. I move forward and take his shaft in my hand, then lower my head to pleasure him.
    It doesn’t take long before I’m convinced he’s forgotten all about his worries. He tangles his hands in my hair, digging his fingers into my scalp and guiding my movements as I show him exactly what I can do with my tongue.
    “Lily…” he gasps.
    I know just how to tease him with my mouth, just how to draw him slowly and deliciously to the brink. For every secret he’s learned about my body since we started dating, I’ve learned something about him, too. Every ragged breath, every moan, every desperate twist of his fingers is testament to the intimate truths I’ve discovered about him. And I’m nowhere close to finished learning yet.
    I slowly draw the length of him out of my mouth. Leaving my lips pressed against the tip, I look up at him with wide eyes. His own eyes are glazed with lust, but they gleam with relish at my earnest expression.
    “I’ve thought of my next challenge,” I say, letting my mouth brush against him as I speak.
    He grips my scalp. “Your what?”
    “For the next hint.” I flick my tongue across his swollen head.
    He draws in a shallow breath. “Now?”
    I smile at the restraint in his voice. His entire body is rigid, as if he’s just barely managing to hold himself back from driving his hard length into my mouth.
    “Ten seconds,” I say. “If you can hold out that long, you win. Otherwise you owe me another hint.”
    He considers this proposition, but not for long. He knows that every moment he spends thinking is one less moment my lips are around him.
    “Fine,” he says. “Ten seconds.”
    I grab his phone from the floor next to him and quickly set the alarm before dropping it again. My mouth is on him again before the cell even hits the mattress beside me.
    Ten .
    He was close before, but I know he’ll be doing everything in his power to hold back now. There’s tension in every muscle in his body, but I know exactly what he likes.
    Nine .
    I tighten my grip around the base of him and stroke him from the bottom as my mouth moves downward from the tip.
    Eight .
    He groans and drops his hands to my shoulders.
    Seven .
    He can’t keep himself from bucking his hips once, twice.
    Six .
    I swirl my tongue around the swollen head of his arousal.
    Five .
    He’s tugging on my hair again. His moans are becoming more guttural.
    Four .
    I hum while my mouth’s around him, making him squirm.
    Three .
    His groans turn into curses.
    He explodes a full two seconds before the alarm goes off, and despite all of his swearing, he seems to enjoy losing this particular contest. He sinks back down to his knees and wraps me in his arms.
    “Fuck, that was good,” he murmurs against my hair.
    We collapse together on the mattress. At this rate, we’re going to be passed out from exhaustion long before we finish the game. Between our exertions and the move, my muscles ache with fatigue. I don’t even want to think about the unpacking we should be