Page 70 of Foolish Games

And thank god for that, because I’m so sore there’s no way I could have done more. For a minute, I lie there just admiring the view of his strong, masculine body on display. Then reality sets in, and alarm bells go off in my head. It’s Saturday morning, the one day my brother and I are allowed to sleep in, but everyone’s home. He was supposed to slip out before anyone else woke up and found him here.

“Hey,” I whisper-shout, poking his shoulder. “You were supposed to leave.”

His lids flutter open, and he gives me a slow, delicious smile. “Oops,” he says, rolling toward me and pulling me in to nuzzle my neck. “I must have fallen asleep.”

“You have to get out,” I hiss. “My parents are downstairs. My brother’s in the next room.”

“Wasn’t that the case last time I stayed over?” he asks, kissing my neck and making warm shimmers of pleasure race over me. He slides a hand under the blankets and down my body, stroking my neatly shaved strip of pubic hair.

“Yeah, but you left early that time,” I remind him, trying to pull his hand away. “Besides, I gave it up. Why are you even still here? Aren’t you supposed to be a player? I thought being gone before your booty call woke up the next morning would be your favorite move.”

“Wouldn’t you rather spend all day in bed with me?” he asks, slipping a finger into my slit and stroking my tender flesh. He nibbles at my earlobe, breathing into my ear and sending goosebumps rushing over me. “We could fuck and watch the Razorback game and eat in bed and fuck again in the shower.”

“That sounds perfect,” I admit, my nails biting into his bicep as he pushes a finger deep inside me. I’m sore as hell, but it still feels so good I can’t help myself. I drop my head back, drawing a slow breath. Then I hear footsteps in the room beside mine, and my head jerks up. “But we can’t. This isn’t a hotel, Sebastian. It’s my house. And you’re not supposed to be here.”

“Why not?” he asks. “Daddy doesn’t want his little princess slumming it with a man of ill repute?”

“You’re not—”

He rolls over, pulling me on top of him. “Then fuck me.”

“I… I can’t,” I say, sitting up and glancing at the door.

He reaches up and pulls my chin around toward him. “I locked the door. Now ride my cock like you rode my hand last night. You said you were my whore now, didn’t you? So stop acting like a prude and let me see you take every inch of me like I know you can.”

“I’m too sore,” I admit, my cheeks heating. It hurts more today than the morning after my first time, but there’s no way I’m telling Sebastian Swift that and making his head grow another three sizes too big.

He spits on his hand and pushes the blankets from between us, slicking his palm over his cock. Then he takes my hips and starts to move me, sliding my slick heat along his length without penetrating me.

“Please?” he says, giving me the look he does when he’s trying to melt my resolve. “I want to watch your face when you cum. You’re so fucking beautiful, Vivienne.”

I know he’s just saying those things to manipulate me into giving in, but when he begins to stroke his thumb over my clit in rhythm with my hips, it feels so good I don’t even care. We already did it. What would one more time hurt? I’ve never cum so hard in my life, and I want to know if it was a fluke. It’s only right to test it out one more time. It’ll be for research purposes.

Sebastian grips the base of his cock and positions the thick head at my entrance, nudging against my sore flesh. “Time to slide that tight little pussy down over my cock and show me how a good girl fucks when she wants it bad.”

I lift my hips, biting my lip and wincing as his girth stretches me open again.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, watching me sink onto him. “Your pussy’s so hot. It feels so good, Princess.”

“It hurts,” I whimper.

“That’s okay,” he says, massaging my clit with his thumb. “I want you to feel me when I’m gone.”

My thighs are shaking, but I ease down onto him until he’s pressed up against the tender, sore place inside me that he battered last night. “Oh god,” I gasp. “Give me a second.”

“I told you that last half inch is the one that makes you see god,” he says, all smugness now that he’s gotten what he wants.

No way in hell am I telling him that it’s more than the half that make me see god.

Especially not when he folds an arm under his head and wets his lips, raising his brow in a challenge, like he thinks I’ll back out now.

“Has anyone ever told you how infuriating you are?” I demand.

“Yeah, but I can usually fuck the fury out of them. Is that what my little princess needs?”

“Do you need the smirk slapped off your face?”

“Ooh, that sounds fun,” he says, gripping my hip and giving a vicious little thrust that makes my knees clench and leaves me gasping for breath. “Give it a shot. But fair warning, if you do, I’m going to slap your ass raw while I fuck it until it’s as loose as your cunt was last night.”

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