Page 12 of Reckless Games

Adam thrusts in hard and his whole body tenses. But instead of letting go, he bends me back over the bed, my orgasm still shaking through me.

He presses me to the mattress with my ass high in the air for him, and in a swift movement, he pulls out. Something snaps, and before I can process it’s the condom coming off, the first warm hit of his release paints my ass. He shoots himself all over my back and grunts through it. One spurt after another coating me.

Marking me.

Only once he relaxes his grip does he slow. He sweeps his hand over me, through his release, dragging it down with his fingers and wiping it between my ass cheeks.

I look over my shoulder, and he’s painting my ass with his cum. A satisfied smirk spreads across his face, as his dark-gray eyes flick upward, catching me staring. Only then does he pull back, wiping his hand over my ass.

“You need to get some sleep.” His expression slips, even if he doesn’t take his eyes off me. He’s still masked and fully clothed, and I realize this stranger I’ve barely gotten a glimpse of just fucked me in the dirtiest way I’ve ever been taken.

“Sleep,” I repeat, trying to process what he’s saying as I’m still bent over the bed with his cum painting my back.

He nods. “It’s going to be a long week.”

Adam tucks his shirt in and zips his pants up. An unrecognizable hesitation as he looks me over. And when he takes another step back, the distance feels even greater. Then he takes another, slowly walking away.

“You’re leaving?” It’s mumbled, sad. I hope he doesn’t hear it because of course he’s leaving. He got what he wanted. And so did I.

Why am I still disappointed?

Adam freezes, looking back at me, standing there for a moment, before walking back toward the bed. He grips my elbow and helps me up, turning me to stand, facing him. The softest expression I’ve seen yet colors his face as he reaches up and peels my mask off, before stripping off his own, and putting the full force of his chiseled features on display.

I’m not sure how a face can take my breath away, but his does. It’s familiar yet foreign. And something about him feels like we’ve met, even if it’s impossible.

“I was grabbing something to clean up.” He brushes my curls from my eyes, and cups my jaw with his hand, my heart fluttering in response. “Don’t worry. I’m not leaving you, baby girl. You’re mine now.”

4

Lakeyn

Whenamansayshe isn’t leaving but still disappears before you wake up, it should be a warning. But if I was looking for a red flag, those were waving long before I woke up alone in my bed this morning.

Somewhere between letting a man who thinks I’m my sister fuck me, and not minding that he spanked me before painting me in his release, I lost sight of right and wrong. And as I came down from the most intense orgasm of my life, one thing was clear—I don’t care.

This week I’m going to do exactly what I set out to do. I’m going to free myself from the pressures of my day-to-day routine. And when I leave and return to my perfectly planned out life, it will be with the knowledge I did something for myself. Even if it was just for seven days.

It doesn’t matter if Adam went back on what he said, even if my night with him was freeing—intense—orgasmic. There’s plenty of fun to be had here with or without him. I’m going to enjoy myself as much as everyone else.

“Someone looks like they had a good night.” Stella slides up beside me and knocks my shoulder with her own.

Her red hair is up in a messy bun on the top of her head, and she’s wearing blue silk pajamas. Without her mask, she looks younger, barely twenty-one. And her freckle-spotted cheeks draw out her innocence.

This morning, everyone is more relaxed, stripped of the evening gowns. And even if their pajamas are probably just as expensive as their suits and dresses, they’re less intimidating.

The majority of the guests are filtering into the dining hall for breakfast, so it’s easier to get a sense of the group. If I had to guess, there are around fifty people here in total, with an almost even split between men and women. And right now, the majority are wearing nothing more than pajamas. Which is why I don’t feel ashamed or out of place that I forgot my bra when I slipped into a pair of black silk pajama pants and a pale pink tank top. My nipples peeking through is nothing compared to some of the lace.

Unlike last night, when people kept an appropriate amount of distance, this morning people are pairing off—sometimes grouping off. They’re handsy, comfortable, some nearly fucking on top of their pancakes.

The scene is quickly changing, and I can only imagine what another six days will bring.

“You’re zoned out girl.” Stella pops a piece of bacon in her mouth, and her eyes roll back like she’s mid-orgasm at the taste of it. “I’m taking that as a yes.”

“Sorry.” I spin around and add another pancake to the stack on my plate, unable to get enough of anything this morning after what happened last night. “Yes, I had a good night. You?”

“Goodwould be an understatement.” Stella leans her hip against the table and winks. “More like a dream come true—if it was the dirtiest dream there is.”

At least that’s something we can agree on. Dirty dreams don’t come close to what Adam did to me. The invitations might as well say to leave morals and inhibitions at the door.

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