Page 50 of Twisted Play
“I don’t understand. What are you asking me for?” A lie. I knew what he was asking.
He bit my earlobe hard enough to draw a yelp from me, and to my utter embarrassment, an answering throb of desire pulsed between my thighs.
“Everything.”
“What does?—”
“Get on your knees.”
Oh.Oh. He wasthatkind of asshole. To my shock, my clit pulsed at the thought.
I sank down, my body remembering Alek’s training even as Cole’s presence overwhelmed my senses. Different men, different control, but my response was the same, a nauseating mix of shame and need that made me hate myself.
My bruised heart broke again. What was it about me that made me ripe for these brutal men to pluck? I’d allowed myself the brief fantasy of believing Cole actually liked me, that he was interested in me, even if I hadn’t let him prove it.
The industrial carpet bit into my knees through my pants. Cole didn’t move, didn’t touch me. He just watched with cold eyes. The silence stretched between us, broken only by the distant hum of the A/C and my shallow breathing.
I should flee. I should scream. I should do anything except kneel here, letting yet another man force me into submission. But just like with Alek, my body betrayed me.
“Hands behind your back.” His voice was rough, but whether with anger or need, I couldn’t tell. I linked my fingers together, fury mixing with arousal as my nipples tightened at his commanding tone. He circled me slowly, his footsteps echoing in the empty office. I forced myself to stare straight ahead, even as every nerve ending screamed at me to track his movement.
His fingers brushed my hair aside, exposing my neck. I flinched, expecting him to grab at me, but he just traced one finger over my skin, so lightly it might have been my imagination. My breath hitched. Would he be gentle with me? Or was this just another way to break me?
“So obedient,” he murmured. “I’m going to enjoy making you beg. Now, pull my cock out of my pants.”
My face burned as I reached for him with shaking hands. The fabric of his sweats was soft against my fingers, a stark contrast to the hardness of his muscles underneath. I could smell him, that woodsy, sandalwood scent mixed with sweat and something darker.
I shoved his pants down in the front. His cock sprang free, already hard and leaking. I hated how tempted I was to stick out my tongue and lap at the drop of precum.
“That’s it. Wrap your hand around the base.”
“Oh, are you going to coach me through this?” I snapped.
“Yeah, sparrow,” he rasped. “I’m gonna make sure you know how to do this right. Now, spit on me.”
Something about the low, hypnotic tone of his words had my body following his directions before my mind could refuse. I did as he asked, watching my spit drip down fromthe tip to my hand as I shoved the parallels between this degradation and what Alek had done to me deep inside my soul, where I couldn’t examine them or how turned on I was.
“Now pump your fist up and down.”
I did.
“More spit.”
I spat again, running my thumb over the slit at the end of his cock, and he moaned.
“There you go. A little more pressure.”
I tightened my fingers around him and fucked his cock with my hand, watching it get sloppy and shiny with my spit and his precum.
“Such a good fucking slut.” He scraped his fingers over my scalp. “You like it when I degrade you as much as you like it when I praise you, hm?”
My pussy clenched at his words, and my nipples tightened into hard nubs. For once, gratitude filled me for the thick bras I wore to contain my large breasts. Sick. I was so fucking sick. This couldn’t possibly be turning me on.
“Now lick it,” Cole murmured, tugging my face closer to his cock with my hair. I breathed in his faintly sandalwood scent, mixed with musk and the salt of his desire, then tentatively reached my tongue out.
“Oh, fuck yes. So fucking good. Keep going, sweetheart.”
Emboldened, I licked up and down his cock like a fucking lollipop as he guided my head with his hands.
