Page 47 of Brutal Game

“We’re all mad here,” I muttered, before placing the pill on my tongue and swallowing it down.

16

Aviva

It would’ve been better if the pill had been poison. Because right now, I wished I were dead.

I was hot all over. So hot. My skinached. I wanted to be naked, and what’s more, I wanted—no, needed—to be touched. I craved hands all over me, stroking, pinching, circling, rubbing, playing. I was soaked, my thighs covered in my own wetness. My nipples were so cold they burned, like someone had rubbed them with ice. And that thought was so kinky, I wanted to scream. Wanted to beg someone, anyone, to do that very thing to me.

No. Not someone, not anyone.

Jack.

The walk over to the hockey house was so uncomfortable, I sobbed the whole way. With each step, my thighs rubbed against each other. Even in jeans, the movement sent sharp sparks through me like someone was setting off mini fireworks in my pussy.

Finally, I arrived at the hockey house. I stumbled, my vision blurry from pleasure-pain, falling to my knees.

That’s how they found me, on my hands and knees on their front porch, moaning like a wild thing.

“Jack,” Judah—or Levi, I couldn’t tell—yelled. “Your party guest’s here.”

There were footsteps, and then I smelled Jack’s familiar scent—ice, spice, and whiskey—as he bent down and scooped me up in his arms like a bride.

“C’mon, princess. Your carriage awaits.”

I moaned, curling against him like a cat seeking pets.

“It hit you hard, didn’t it?” His laugh rumbled in his chest against my ear. I wanted to burrow into the sound. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you better.” He paused, and I might have realized how sinister he sounded if my brain wasn’t already blown with need. “Or worse.”

All I could do in response was whimper.

“Fuck, that sound is so sexy,” he growled.

He could talk. His growl made me wetter. I wanted to rub up against it, so I settled for rubbing up against him.

We were moving through the entrance, down the hall, around the living room where we’d danced with each other, past the kitchen where I’d first seen him, until we reached a room I hadn’t seen before. Big and dark, with a huge wood table in the center of the room. And then I was being lowered onto the table, slowly, gently, on my hands and knees. I stretched like a cat, and I think I must have purred? Or something, because laughter echoed through the room, and it wasn’t only Jack’s.

No. Even in my mindless state, I recognized the twins and Isaac. There were others in the room, guys I recognized from the research I’d done on the team before transferring. I should’ve cared, I should’ve been worried. Nothing goodcould come from me being on the table, surrounded by strange men. This was the stuff of nightmares. I should’ve run, but all I could do was moan at how cool and hard the table was under my hands and knees.

I felt hands on me, big hands—Jack’s hands. My sneakers and socks were removed, then my jeans were unzipped and peeled off, until I was bare below my waist.

Jack stroked me where I needed him, and I shivered.

“Fuck, already so wet,” Jack groaned.

And then there was a thick finger pushing inside my pussy. I moaned. It was exactly what I needed, and yet somehow, not enough.

“Jack,” I whined. “Please.”

He leaned over my body, his mouth on my ear. “Please what, princess?”

“Please, I need you.”

“Need me how?”

“Need your hand, your mouth, your cock. Need you to fuck me. Please, Jack, please, fuck me,” I begged.

Later, I would be horrified by the way I’d acted, but the Vixen had buried the part of me that rejected sex and was ashamed that I got off on Jack’s force and control. Right now, I was free to stop judging myself, or him, and just feel.

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