Page 108 of Twisted Play
Fuck yes, I had, the asshole. “And pajamas,” I reminded him, holding up a black paper bag with a designer name emblazoned across the front.
“You won’t need them,” he snapped.
“Maybe you shouldn’t tell me I can do whatever the fuck I want if you don’t actually mean it,” I said then froze, aghast at my daring. Nothing they’d done to me in the last week had given me any indication they were interested in back talk.
I had spent a fortune, mostly because I was feeling bratty, because I needed to prove they couldn’t control me. Guilt set in.
Cole laughed quietly. “I’ll take it out on your hide,” he promised. “And then you can buy whatever the fuck you want. How about that?”
I blinked, oddly reassured by the offer.Yes. Please punish me.I wanted nothing more than the oblivion of the pain Cole inflicted, of the pleasure Tristan wrested from me.
“How about next time, you don’t kidnap me, and then you won’t have to worry about how much I spend on skincare?” I snapped back, part of me terrified, a larger part of me determined to push Cole into doing what he wanted to anyway—hurt me, humiliate me, then fuck me in tandem with his best friend.
“Eva,” Tristan said against my cheek, “are you okay?”
“No thanks to you.” I was a goddamned mess, and I didn’t know what I wanted.
We reached the top of the stairs, and Tristan caged me against the wall. Why was that move so sexy? I wanted to melt against him, but if I did, I wouldn’t get what I wanted. And if they were going to subject me to this bullshit, the least I could get out of it was sweet oblivion.
“What’s wrong?” he asked me.
Everything. Nothing.
Instead of answering, I surged up to bite his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.
“Kitten,” he gasped, his eyes brightening with pleasure. “Fucking hot. Is that what you want tonight? Rough?”
Before I could lick the blood from Tristan’s lip, Cole yanked me away and shoved me into his bedroom.
I hadn’t been able to really look around the last two times I was here, but now, it was neat as a pin, absolutely without personality. No photos. No artwork. Not even a hockey trophy or two, save for one wall filled with bookcases and books.
I would have walked over to inspect them, but one of the men shoved me face first onto the bed and knocked the wind out of me.
“Sparrow,” Cole purred, and the way he said it did something to me. Heat spiraled in my core. I liked it when he was mean.
Fucked up, Eva.
Fingers traced down my spine then reached around to unbutton my jeans.
“So fucking hot,” Tristan said as he bared my ass. “I think we should tie her up.”
What? Wait. If they tied me up—my thighs clenched, pressing together—if they tied me up, they’d be able to do whatever they wanted to me. And something in me really fucking wanted that.
“Go ahead, sparrow. Fight me,” Cole growled, one hand on my bare ass, the other holding my back down.
“Is that what you want?” I gasped. “For me to fight you so you have to tie me down before you beat and rape me?”
Cole’s dark chuckle ran through me like a live wire. “No, Eva. I want you to fight me because it lets you pretend you don’t want this. Because if you ever had to admit how much the way Tristan and I treat you turns you on, you’d shatter into a million pieces.”
Tristan’s hands ran over my bare ass. “You want this, whether you can admit it to yourself or not. You’re going to beg for our cocks by the time we’re done with you.”
“I love her like this,” Cole murmured. “On my bed, fully dressed, her ass hanging out, begging me to mark it up.”
Tristan took my hands and bound them together with a silk tie then yanked them over my head. He fumbled a bit with the knots, my anticipation growing with every moment he delayed the promised punishment. When he finally got the tie attached to the headboard, I tugged hard.
I couldn’t move.
My stomach dropped, but to my embarrassment, my pussy clenched. Did I like this?
