Page 38 of Deadly Rival

Tempting. Very, very tempting. I’d be able to get my head on straight, and maybe, by tomorrow, I’ll be out of here. But I’m already having to fight to keep from squirming on the bed. I swallow before asking, “And what if I fail?”

He smiles again, and I’m pulled in by the expression even though I know it’s a mask. The combination of the flash of white teeth and the amusement in those vivid blue eyes, is dangerous. “If you fail, then I get to come all over that pretty face of yours. And we play the game over and over again until I get tired of it.”

I’m drenched in feelings, floundering in a sea of them. There’s a hot, traitorous pulse between my legs, which I try to ignore, and a sticky dose of revulsion, bolstered by anger. He’s not doing that to me. Absolutely not. He’d probably photograph it and send it to my dad as a Christmas card.

Why? Why did I have to think that?

“Do I get to refuse?”

“Refuse, and you forfeit. I’ll come on your face anyway.”

There’s something about the matter-of-fact way he says these things messes with my head. It’s as though he’s laying out the rules of Monopoly. Shouldn’t he be cackling maniacally or look like a disgusting creep? Shouldn’t he be more obviously messed up?

Stop. Nail down the rules. “How long do you have to do it?”

“Five minutes. And you have to relax and let me do as I please. If you fight, you forfeit.”

Damn it.

“This is gross and sick. You realize that, right? You know this is wrong?”

His thumb finds my clit, and unprepared, I don’t have time to school my face. My lips part, and I sigh as he circles his thumb. I didn’t think it was possible for him to look more smug. I was wrong.

“I don’t care. And soon, neither will you. You’ll beg for this.”

Arrogant bastard.

He makes a show of checking his Patek Philippe watch. It’s subtler than some I’ve seen but still flashy enough to catch the eye. Irritatingly, it suits him rather than looking overdone. He turns it to me, showing me the time. “Relax and watch yourself on the screen. Five minutes. Starting…now.”

Thank God he told me to watch the screen. If anything is a mood killer, it’s watching myself bouncing like a trained monkey. Pathetic. Weak. I let the rage and revulsion fill me as I stare at myself. The footage has already looped, back to the start. Was it really only a few minutes? It felt like forever. With that sight in front of me, this should be easy.

I expect him to dive right in, target the vibrator aggressively on my clit, but he doesn’t. He presses to the side, so the vibrations only tease. Then he rolls one nipple between his fingers and lowers his head to the other.

Oh my God.

Lines of white fire shoot from his fingers and tongue, straight into my needy clit. The light vibrations, too far from where I want them, have me desperate to press my knees together.

No. Don’t be stupid. Focus on the screen.

I do, but even that pales as Sebastian twists one nipple and sucks the other. Why is he being so fucking gentle? Why is he…

He shifts the vibrator, rolling it over my clit for a second before pulling away. Then he does it again. And again. Everything between my legs is on fire, and I could almost grab his stupid, teasing hand and put the vibrator on my clit myself.

What the hell am I thinking? The screen, the anger. Focus.

I try to, but my eyes are drawn down by the magnetic power of watching what Sebastian is doing. His strong fingers stretch my nipple, twisting just enough to hurt, and I gasp as my core spasms with need.

He looks up, and our eyes meet. His have darkened from a summer lake to an evening sea. He watches my reaction as he twists my nipple again, harder this time, and I can’t hide the way it makes my thighs clench.

How long has it been? Five minutes, surely. I must be safe now, right?

He moves the vibrator again, and this time, he doesn’t tease. He presses it to my clit, and my body surges toward pleasure.

No. No.

I stare at the screen, trying to summon the rage. The anger. It has to be there. I need it to protect me.

But the vibrations roll over my sensitive skin and force me toward the edge. I try to fight it. To will my body to behave. It’s useless. I can’t stop the blistering orgasm that rolls through me, and I can’t even hide it. My pussy clenches, and moisture spills from me, dampening my thighs, Sebastian’s fingers, every damn thing, and my breath comes out in a desperate whoosh.

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