Page 14 of Brutal Game

Her heat was so incredible, I almost forgot why we were here.

“You know,” I mused, stroking her, satisfaction filling me when she jerked again, “I never thought it would turn me on, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

“Fuck you,” she said again, rage turning her beautiful brown eyes dark.

“Oh, you’re gonna,” I promised her. “Just wait.”

Leaving her skirt to gather between her ankles to help aid in restraining her, I slipped off her panties, down her legs, over one foot and then the other, before balling them up and pocketing them. The idea of gagging her with them was appealing, but I still had a purpose here—torture her into telling me the truth.

Seeing her body stretched out on the bench, her wet, barely touched, rose-pink pussy with its short curls protecting what was inside…fuck. I squeezed the base of my cock again, determined not to come yet. Nah, I was saving that for the finale.

“One more chance, Aviva. Tell me why you’re here.”

”Telling you isn’t going to help, Jack. You’ll hate the truth more than you hate not knowing,” she said.

I almost flinched from her words. I couldn’t imagine anything this girl could know that could be that scary. But a small part of me—the same part that had warned me not to turn around at the party—whispered,don’t let her drop this bomb on you.

I didn’t listen to it.

I was too motherfucking excited about what I was gonna do to her next.

Time to play.

5

Aviva

Don’t cry. Whatever you do, don’t cry.

And don’t come, either.

I was enraged, humiliated, and so turned on I wanted to die. I’d never had an orgasm with someone else, never been this aroused, never had aman’s dick in my mouth, and now I was half-naked and restrained by this jackass bully of a hockey player who thought he was god’s gift to the world. Was I about to have my first orgasm with another person?I didn’t want it.How the hell had I gotten here? How had things gone so wrong, so fast?

And why did they feel so right? Why did having zero control make me feel so…free?

I’d always been in control of everything. Aunt Gladys had been ill the whole time we’d lived with her, and so Asher and I had to step up. I wanted him to focus on hockey, so I’d taken care of everything: the house, the finances, food. Everything. I got so used to being in control, it never occurred to me that not having it could feelgood.

Which was a horrifying thought. I couldn’t like this. Couldn’t enjoy being forced. How depraved was I?

Not nearly as depraved as Jack, at least. He stood in front of me, straddling the bench and my thighs, his cock so hard the head was purple and pressing up against his abs. My jaw hurt. My throatached. I could still taste him.

And oh god, what was wrong with me? Because I wantedmore.

Jack rested his huge hand on my pussy again. I clenched.

“This is too easy,” he told me conversationally as he started tapping his fingers against the seam of my pussy and slowly working his dick with his other hand.

I whimpered.

A drop of precum appeared at the tip of his dick.

“That pathetic little sound makes me so hard, Aviva,” he said. “Let’s see if you’ll make it again.”

And then he started tracing little circles over my pussy, again and again, over and over, avoiding my clit but touching me everywhere else. Featherlight touches on my thighs, my hips, my mound. It took every last ounce of strength not to buck and chase his fingers and the pleasure they brought.

“Stop,” I begged.

He paused. “Are you going to tell me why you’re here?”

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