Page 67 of These Wicked Games
“Holy fuck! P . . . please. Oli, please.” I’m squirming against the bed, his fingers stretching me wide.
The evil bastard chuckles. “Fuck, you sound good begging.” He smirks. Then his mouth is back on me, working in tandem with the hand inside me, and high-pitched whines leave my lips. I should be embarrassed, but I don’t have the mental space for that right now. I just need him inside me. I’m going to come. I try to reach for my sac but he knocks my hand away.
“If you come before I tell you to, I’ll have you wearing a cage for the rest of the month. Do you hear me? I will edge you until you are sobbing.” I swallow. He slips his hand out and grabs the toy.
“I want you.”
“You’ll get me when you’ve earned me.” He presses the cool tip of the toy to my hole. He feeds it to me, and I take it in, groaning. It’s good, but it’s not Oli. Still, some part of me wants to impress him, show him how good I can be for him. He fits it all the way in. “Keep it inside.” He leaves me to go back to his end table.
I struggle to hold the dildo inside. My ass clenches and pulses around it. I want to get fucked. I need it. “What’s that?”
His only answer is a smirk as he fits the ring over the head of my cock, keeping it just under my head. On the most sensitive part of my dick, because Kuli knows my body.
Oliver fucking Kulivov knows me.
I blink away the well of heat in my eyes. What the fuck is wrong with my head today? I don’t have more time to think as he turns it on and . . . Holy fuck. I grab and squeeze the blankets. My backarches. The dildo slips out of my ass. He catches it. “Naughty boy.” Oli chuckles. The vibration makes my balls pull tight. He slaps the dildo against my entrance before fitting it back inside in one solid thrust. “Dirty fucking boy.” His grin is manic. I feel depraved. Desperate. I drool. I moan. I fucking beg. Then he begins to fuck me with it, and I feel my climax pulse in my shaft. “You come, and you’ll regret it.”
He stops, and with the toy fully seated he grabs my thighs, pushing me back and folding me in half. Okay goalie, flexibility for the motherfucking win. I should be embarrassed by the obscene way he exposes me, but I don’t fucking care, and I care even less as he guides his cock to my entrance.
“Wait!” He cocks an eyebrow at me. “I uh . . .”Pop Tart! Pop Tart!“I um.”
“Your eloquence is astounding.”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m trying to fuckyou.” He blinks, waiting for me, and fuck, I can’t say it. I need it. Any way he’ll give it to me. Oli begins to enter me. It’s too tight. Too fucking much. It burns. It fucking hurts.
I feel alive.
“Holy fuck, baby.”Baby now?Not sure when we got onto a pet-name basis.
“Oh my god.” I swallow hard. It’s absolutely too much. My fingers nearly break gripping the sheets.
“So fucking good. Look at you. Fuck.” He looks down, shaking his head. “Such a good boy.” My cock jerks, because it’s a damned traitor! “Yeah, you like being good for me, huh? My good boy.” I blink up at him. I go fucking numb. I am going to be good. Forhim. Oli thrusts inside. It feels incredible, but he’s going too slow. He’s being too careful. I need more.
“Take it out.”
“Does it hurt?” The worry that pulls at his face makes me angry.
“It’s not enough,” I growl. I need to feel all of him.
Oli pulls out of me, then slowly slips the toy out, setting it aside. I don’t know what he sees on my face. I don’t know what I’ve let slip in my expression. I hate the way he’s looking at me. Oli can hate me, he can be pissed at me, but if he fucking pities me, I’m done.
“What do you need, Dre?”
“Give me fire and brimstone, Oli,” I beg.
Something dark comes over him, like a demon finding a host. It’s like seeing the devil appear before you in real time. He grabs me under my knees, pushing me back, testing how flexible I can really be.
Then he slams into me without warning. My back bows. Pain lights up every nerve ending inside me. I can’t breathe. I can’t think.
I love every fucking second.
“Sloppy little hole. Still so fucking tight.” Oli leans down, giving me another bruising kiss. “You fucking crave it. Say it!” he snaps.
“I . . . I . . .” Oli slaps me across the face. Hard. It shocks me. Excites me. “I crave it. I crave—”
I arch more, melting into the bed. I love the way he feels, how he doesn’t let me breathe. I love the way he presses into me, forcing himself inside my body. I like that it hurts. Love that it feels amazing. I can’t think. Can’t breathe. My body desperately tries to accommodate him. “I could play in this perfect pussy allday,” he growls, punching my chest. I grab his fist as he swings again, holding it to me as he plows into me. Our bodies create a thunderous symphony. His balls slap against my ass. Sweat drips from his powerful body. Oli takes my cock, stroking it. Fucking asshole!
