Page 85 of Brutal Game

“Aviva,” I growled.

On a moan, her eyes opened.

25

Aviva

It took a while for sleep to come. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, scenes from that night replaying in my mind. The worst was seeing Jack with his arm around someone else. And his words after.

I’m not jealous. I just like making your life hell.

Although I knew he was trying to piss me off, part of me couldn’t help wondering if he’d actually moved on from torturing me to someone else—someone he wouldn’t torture, but may actually treatwell.

And that felt like shit. So shitty, I had to flip over and bury my head in my pillow to keep myself from crying.

Jack Feldman wouldn’t fucking make me cry,ever again.

Finally, I slept. Or must have, because I dreamed. I dreamed of a sharp pain, and then incredible pleasure—a mouth between my legs, and then a cock between my thighs, shoving inside me, fast and violent andohsogoodiwassocloseiwasgoingto?—

I blinked open my eyes. At first, it was a fog, some mistbetween dream and reality, because my left shoulder itched, and there was a cock inside me, and that wasn’t possible, because I’d gone to sleep alone.

Was I dreaming again?

Except there was Jack, staring down at me in the dark, his face hard with need and determination, his gray eyes black with lust, rage, or possibly both.

He slammed inside me again and I jerked away, crying out.

“Jack, what the fuck?! You can’t be here.”

“Do.”

Slam.

“Not.”

Slam.

“Tell.”

Slam.

“Me.”

Slam.

“What I can and cannot do when it comes to you.”

He shoved deep inside me, then twisted and ground his hips. His cock hit places it never had before, setting off a domino effect of little explosions that I couldn’t stop.

I tried to pull away. He just grabbed my hips, holding me in place.

“Get the hell out of here. Get the hell out ofme!”

“No.”

“Funny that you understand what the word nomeans whenyousay it,” I gasped.

“I know what it means, I just don’t care when you say it. Because you don’t mean it, little liar.”

---