Page 90 of The Game

“Look me in the eyes when you do. I want to see your descent into madness, Alice,” he swears. Flicking my eyes up to his, he pulls out slightly, groaning as he raises his face to the ceiling in ecstasy before dropping only his eyes down to me. “Come, baby.”

His thrusts are deep but slow, picking up in pace as his thumb circles my slippery clit. “Oh…f-fuck,” I cry. My eyes beg to close, but I obey him, keeping them open and locked on his as he pushes me over the edge, my toes curling as I come hard around his cock, milking him and squirting again, my body spasming with the force and power of my climax.

“Yes…fuck,” he moans, pumping deeply, throwing his face to the ceiling as I feel him pulse inside me, spilling his cum against my womb, his own shudders rocking me. Although I begin to ache almost immediately, I don’t care. This connection—reconnection—is worth everything, even if Jameson will be upset with us.

Tristan drops his sweaty forehead to mine, releasing my wrists, his pierced nipples brushing against my slick skin.

“You’re my downfall,” he mutters, eyes searching mine.

“And you’re my strength,” I whisper back.

CHAPTER 45

Jameson

The lowlight in this dank, cavernous room does nothing to diminish her beauty. It’s as if no time has passed, five long years of her absence squashed under my heel in mere seconds. Her long, thick brown hair falls in perfect waves over her shoulders, her dark eyes like gems of obsidian tracing my face, her pink lips pressed tightly together in that look I’d recognize anywhere—she’s ready to defend herself, because I am ready to storm out and throttle Teddy for making me face my ex in such a way.

My eyes flash to his as he leans against the wall, arms crossed, one foot pressed to the cinder blocks behind him.

“What the fuck is this,” I hiss.

“Jameson,” she whispers, her voice husky, conjuring up all those times I made her say it when my cock was deep in her cunt. I loved Oksana with everything I had to give at the time, and she threw it in my face for another man. Teddy’s lips quirk, his eyes blazing through the darkness as he tilts his chin.

“Little bunny already knows. They met at the circus.”

“Fuck,” I hiss, hand rising to swipe at my jaw and chin as my eyes swish back to her petite form, her shaking hands pressed between her thighs to hide their trembles. My heart lurches in pain for her, for whatever she had to endure while there, but it doesn’t change the fact that she tore my heart from my chest and never looked back.

Glaring at her anew, I set my jaw, prepared to give her whatever she needs so she leaves me in the peace I have been so desperately trying to find these past few weeks. Even in the knowledge that Alice and her have met, I know my feistybabochka; she can become jealous, territorial over what she loves, and I’d never want to drive that type of wedge between us, especially not now.

“What do you need?” I growl, crossing my arms. Her eyes flicker, the tough veneer she always wore—even around me—flimsy at best now. She’s changed, but I stow away my sympathy for her, because I believe her undeserving of it.

“I…just wanted to explain,” she says softly in Russian, and hearing her accent, her words, it makes me miss home more fervently than I have in years. Swallowing down the emotions, I cock my eyebrow and wait. She licks her lips, adjusting her position on the decaying couch, before she drops her eyes and speaks softly.

“I never…never cheated on you. My father, he married me to Vlad Rusalka. I couldn’t tell you because—” My chest seizes at her words as her eyes flick up to me, and we both seem to know what’s coming next. “Because I knew you’d try to interfere, and I couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to you.”

When she finishes, tears glass her eyes, and my heart races an angry rhythm. I loathe the fucking Rusalka's, and she’s right; at the time, I would’ve done something fucking stupid to get her back, and it would have jeopardized our family’s name, and possibly my life. As soon as that thought hits me, though, I think of Alice, of how I’d stop at nothing to get to her, and a sense of peace washes over me; I loved Oksana, but with Alice it’s different, deeper—meant to be. If she’d never let me go, I’d have never had room in my heart for Alice, and even the thought of living my life without ever tasting her lips, hearing her sweet sighs and soft moans kills me.

After sifting quickly through this bomb she’s dropped on me, only one question pushes forth through all the decimation.

“Why are you here, then?”

She licks her lips again, more nervous and jittery than I ever remember her being. She used to be a force of nature, a woman who knew what she wanted, a cutthroat villain made for this life. Now, she’s just a frightened shell, still strong, but in a different, softer way.

“My husband was killed, and I ran. I did not want to be married to another tyrant…but my…my daughter Alina…”

My chest seizes in horror, my eyes widening. She wags her head quickly.

“She’s not yours. I know your sister was upset by that thought…but she is very sick, and her bone marrow donor passed right before we got here. We just…need to extend our visas, find her a new donor…” she trails off, wiping at her eyes.

“Whatever you need, it is yours.”

Her eyes snap back to mine, a new layer of humility added to those black depths I used to get so lost in.

“I do not need much money, and I will pay you back—”

“Jesus Christ, Oksana,” I growl. “You do not know me at all if you think I’d make you pay me back.”

Her cheeks flush at my words, and we both look away quickly as those old feelings arise anew. I used to be the only one she’d listen to, and if she didn’t, she felt my wrath before she felt my love. Before I can allow those memories to fester, a tiny, sleepy voice calls from somewhere behind Oksana.

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