Page 90 of Twisted Play
Eva’s eyes flew to mine, surprised, perhaps by the concern in my tone. If those fuckers had done anything to her?—
“No,” she said, her eyes downcast and her voice grim. “Nothing I didn’t ask for.”
“Come with me.” I exited the hockey arena before she could refuse.
Her phone buzzed as she scurried to keep up with me. Eva wasn’t tall, and I didn’t shorten my strides.
“Put it away when you’re with me,” I growled, jealous the boys were getting her attention.
Her fingers flew over the keys, and then she shoved it in her pocket. “I had breakfast plans,” she snapped.
When I didn’t say anything, she faltered, stumbling, before looking up at me as she rushed to catch up. “Sir,” she finished breathlessly.
I didn’t give her the good girl she wanted, but I didn’t punish her either. She followed me through the maze of hallways until we arrived at the elevator to my formal office on the fourth floor, far from the hustle and bustle of the arena—and prying eyes.
The doors slid shut. We stood side by side in silence—me furious at myself for my jealousy and at her for being the type of woman men fought over, and her surreptitiously taking deep, calming breaths, inhaling for five and exhaling for five.
What I really wanted was to see her lose that control again.
Today, I’d do it.
Did she let them fuck her raw? Did she spend the whole practice dripping cum, her icy composure a filthy lie?
I had to know.
The elevator dinged, and I gestured for her to proceed, my eyes glued to her luscious ass, the way her thighs pressed against one another when she walked.
Today, I would take the pictures to send to her father and let him know the power I held over his daughter.
Eva stopped outside my office, her eyes flicking over the frosted glass.
“Go on,” I instructed her.
Her eyes flicked to mine, and then she opened the door,settling to her knees beside my chair like she was accustomed to.
I locked the door behind me and pressed the button to lower the blinds over the windows. The mechanical whir as they descended calmed me.
“Strip,” I commanded.
“What?” she gasped, her eyes widening.
“Did I stutter?” Each word was measured, as if I wasn’t imagining replacing every mark those boys had left on her body with my own.
Eva blinked, her full lips parting, and her chest heaving.
“I don’t—I—What?”
I spun in my chair so my knees were on either side of her, one behind and one in front. “Did you think this wasn’t about sex, baby girl?”
For a moment, raw fear flashed in her eyes before that perfect mask slipped back into place. My cock hardened at the sight. Breaking her control had become an obsession—one I refused to examine too closely.
“Right.”
She knelt, a perfect picture of submission, save for the tremor in her hands as she reached for her sweater. Slowly, as if she were moving through molasses, she hooked her fingers under the hem. She paused then took a deep breath and lifted it, her arms brushing against my legs where I caged her in, revealing the soft curve of her stomach, the heavy swell of her breasts barely constrained by the lace of her bra.
Her soft belly pushed out over the waistband of her jeans, begging me to run my fingers over it. I ached to trace the constellation of marks across her skin—bite marks, bruises, evidence of rougher handling than I’d dared. Yet.
“I said strip,” I growled to hide the rasp in my voice. Hereyes flicked to mine, and she flushed, the rosy pink spreading outwards until her entire chest was covered in her blush.Beautiful.I banished the unwanted thought, lest it distract me from my objective.
