Page 76 of Hateful Games

There’s no point in confessing I’m a virgin.

He already knows it.

“Ohh!” I moan when he wiggles the digit in my walls, letting me adjust to the intrusion. I rise on my toes when he pushes it even deeper, to the hilt. “Oh fuck!”

With his other hand, he flicks his thumb over my clit until it swells and hardens. The odd discomfort turns into tingling pleasure. He explores the tells of my body, the way it responds when he’s delivering teasing caresses or grazing my bundle of nerves with his nails or increasing his pace to rough and hard. Before changing t0 a slow but deep pace that elicits louder moans from my lips.

Him patiently trying to learn my body rather than ruthlessly taking his own pleasure heightens my lust.

I grab his wrist on instinct when he nudges another broad finger against my opening. Grabbing both my wrists with one hand, he shoves them above my head. Rubbing my clit in tight circles, he continues lazily fucking me with one finger.

Despite being restrained under him, I feel free. A hazy sensation coming over my senses, making my hips undulate against his hand expertly bringing ecstasy to my pussy.

“Ahh,” I cry out when he pinches my clit.

The sudden pain adding to the thrill. When he pushes another finger in again, I don’t resist him and welcome the pleasurable pain it’ll bring. My opening stretches around his broad fingers, slowly accepting him. He makes a come-hither motion inside my channel, touching nerve endings I didn’t know existed.

I see stars.

“Yes! More!”

He touches the same spot again and when I moan, he completely pulls out before thrusting to the hilt. Pushing his thigh between my legs, he keeps me open and still while his palm slaps against my clit with every thrust.

Nothing except pleasure courses through my veins.

“Harder, please,” I beg.

The last of his control shatters and his finger fucking becomes unhinged. Impossibly deeper. Rougher.

The storm of an orgasm barrels down on me.

I enjoy every shudder and floating sensation as I writhe underneath him. I’m panting harder as I come down to earth. Sharp as a knife, the urge to peer into his face rises. The first man to ever bring me an orgasm that wasn’t stolen from me.

I hate Nova with a deeper vengeance for keeping this experience out of my reach.

All for his sick game of control.

I tug against Malcolm’s grip on my arms but he doesn’t budge. So, I demand, “Let me see your face.” He remains quiet and menacing under his mask. I lower my voice to a sultry tone and ask again, “I just want to look at you as you take me.”

A firm shake of his head.

Not giving me a chance to protest, he moves his fingers still lodged deep inside me. Need builds again under his ministrations and I lose all coherent thought.

Scissoring his fingers, he stretches me wider.

I blush, realizing he’s prepping me for his cock, which runs along his inner thigh. Long and hard. The size intimidating as hell. Yet my pussy craves to feel it pierce me.

If it’ll even fit.

I shudder when my wrists are freed. Withdrawing his fingers, he traces both his palms around my waist, to my flat stomach, before cupping my breasts. They fit like globes in his hands as he admires them.

“Yes,” I whimper when he twists my hard nipples harshly.

The pain spreads through my body in a warm caress. Watching my reaction, he repeats his actions. Again, learning my body’s secret spots as if it’s a quest he’s ruthlessly conquering.

Knowing it’ll be a long while before I can get a chance like this again, I raise my trembling hand to trace his belt buckle and shyly ask, “Can I touch you?”

He’s been in charge ever since we were enclosed in the closet.

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