Page 15 of Brutal Game

When I didn’t respond, he started tracing little patterns again, making everything in me wind tighter.

“You know what I think? I think you aren’t telling me because you don’t want me to stop, not really. I think this tight little good girl pussy is secretly a greedy slut. She’s the most honest part of you. I think—” he moved his fingers higher, higher, oh god, higher— “you want this, don’t you?”

A circle and a tap, right on my clit.

I cried out, wound tight, so tight, terrified and exhilarated and ashamed of what would happen next?—

—and then he removed his hand.

I trembled.

Relieved.

Disappointed.

For a moment, and then his fingers were back.

“Has anyone ever gotten you off, princess?”

He didn’t deserve an answer.

“Didn’t think so.”

He slowly pushed one inside of me, and I jolted. Lifting his finger—his middle finger—up, he showed it to me.

“Look how fucking wet you are,” Jack said, and if I didn’t know better, if I didn’t know how much he already hated me, I’d have thought he said it with awe. “Barely touched you, and you covered my finger.” He watched me as he slid his finger into his mouth, sucking it.

“Guess even thieving, conniving little pussies taste good.”

He sounded frustrated. Hewasfrustrated. Because the next thing he did was shove two fingers inside of me this time, fast and hard. His fingers were long and thick and even as wet as I was, it hurt. The only fingers that had ever been inside of me were my own.

“Jack, please,” I begged.

“Tell me why you’re here.”

If I told him, he might tip off Joshua Jensen and put him on his guard. I needed the element of surprise and secrecy, or I’d never get justice for my brother.

I inhaled slowly, trying to ignore him, his hard chest, his huge, angry cock, his fingers. He was torturing me to try to get me to talk, but he wouldn’t win.

I closed my eyes to shut him out, and in punishment, he shoved three fingers inside of me this time.

Too much.

I screamed.

“Wonder if I could fit my whole fist inside you.”

My eyes flew open as I bucked underneath him. “No!”

“Then talk.”

But I couldn’t.

Terrified, I shut my eyes again and braced myself for the pain that was sure to come next, which is why I was surprised when his fingers disappeared, and so did his body.

And then I was being dragged down the bench, my thighs spread open wide. I opened my eyes again, only to see his head descend between my legs. He licked me, once, twice, three times, and the threat of orgasm that had faded away came roaring back. I couldn’t buck him off, he was gripping my thighs too hard with his big hands.

I was about to come this way, wasn’t I? My first orgasm from someone else, and it was happening without my consent, tied to a bench in a locker room that stunk of pheromones and long-stale sweat. It felt so good and I hated it, hated him…

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