Page 16 of Brutal Game

Pain, sharp and shocking. Jack had bitten my clit, and he wasn’t letting go.

I shrieked, so loud the whole campus must have heard me.

It hurt so bad.

It felt so good.

Finally, Jack lifted his head, his lips wet—with me.

“Talk,” he said. “Or this is going to get worse.”

“Fine, then do your worst,” I gasped.

“With pleasure.”

He lowered his head, licking and sucking and biting—my pussy, my inner thighs, my clit. Each time I thought I would come, each time he stopped just before it happened. Each time, he demanded I tell him the truth—each time, it got more and more difficult to keep silent. Time blurred, or maybe paused, I wasn’t sure. Overwhelmed, overwrought, I sobbed, my cries mixing with Jack’s groans and the slapping sound of his hand on his own cock as he took turns punishing me and pleasing himself.

Finally, he stopped. I opened my eyes, afraid of what I would see. His own dark eyes were almost black with lust and anger as he released my weakened legs and rose to his feet in front of me. In that moment, I understood why he was treated like a god here.

“Poor little princess,” he crooned in a voice thick with mockery and desire he didn’t even bother to hide. “So desperate and so afraid. Just waiting for my cock to rip you apart.”

“Jack,” I whimpered, begging. “Please…”

“Please what. Please stop, or please make you come?”

I didn’t know the answer.

Growling, he used one hand to spread me wide, and with the other, guided his cock forward, the crown pressing against me, seeking an opening. The sensation was too much—too terrifying, too goddamned good. I couldn’t take anymore. I couldn’t lose my virginity this way. I refused.

“Stop, Jack, please! Not like this! I’ll tell you why I’m here, okay? Just please, don’t do this to me.”

Don’t do this.

Don’t make sex this humiliating and horrible.

He froze, his chest heaving, then released my hips and pulled away, slowly, almost reluctantly. Almost like he regretted winning.

But this was not a man who ever lost.

“I won’t fuck you this time,” he said. “But we aren’t done here.”

And then, just to reinforce his own words, he pumped his cock with his fist, hard and fast, eyes on mine, and that alone brought me closer to my own orgasm.

I shook, teeth clenched, trying so hard not to follow him over the cliff before me into an abyss I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to climb out of.

“Oh, you’re going to come for me, princess,” he promised.

I opened my mouth to disagree, just as he caught my clit between his thumb and finger andpinched—tossing me over the edge and sending me into freefall.

It was like nothing I’d felt before. Huge and powerful and overwhelmingly raw. I wanted to bask in it; I wanted to run from it.

Jack didn’t give me a choice. With a strangled shout, he threw his head back and came. Wet heat splashed over me—my pussy, my bare stomach, my shirt. The shock of being used that way only seemed to draw out my orgasm, and I hung on for dear life.

Finally, he sighed.

“Fuuuuuuck.”

He leaned over me, wiping his wet hand over my lips, painting me with his release and my shame.

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