Page 9 of The Games We Play
“Penny,” he growled, his voice edged with warning. His jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with impatience.
Still, I stood my ground, biting back a smirk.
Mac exhaled a slow, controlled breath, shaking his head like I was testing the last thread of his restraint. With stealth and precision, he reached out and grabbed the backs of my thighs before yanking me forward.
I gasped, catching myself on his shoulders before he shifted me into place, flat across his lap, stomach down.
Right where he wanted me.
“I won’t ask again,” he said, voice a low growl.
He brushed a hand over my bare ass, fingers circling, teasing. Goosebumps formed in his wake.
I huffed, trying to keep my defiant edge, but when I felt that same finger move suddenly between my legs, I lost all sense of power I had.
Mac ran his middle finger through my core, starting at my clit and working his way to my entrance before shoving in once and pulling out completely.
“You’re soaked,” Mac groaned, repeating the motion, his fingers teasing, testing. “Care to tell me why?”
I swallowed hard, my breath hitching. My mind was chaos, but somehow, I still managed to blurt out a wise-ass remark.
“If I have to explain that, maybe you need a little more experience.”
Mac let out a dark, amused chuckle, then without warning—crack.
His palm landed hard against my ass, a sharp sting blooming across my skin. I gasped, my body jolting from the impact.
“Did they not teach you that in sex ed? When a female is?—”
Crack.
“Not the answer you wanted?” I was testing his patience, and my God, I was drenched.
“Tell me, Pen,” he said, rubbing my burning skin. “Is it me that gets you this wet? Because this—you over my knee, soaked and squirming—is what I think about when I stroke my cock.”
A whimper left my mouth at his filthy words. I’d always pictured Mac as the silent-but-deadly type. Instead, he was the kind to talk you through it, praise you, and make you crave more.
“Get up,” he said. “Be a good girl and stand. Be a bad one…” He trailed off, his voice a promise.
So desperately, I want to be a bad girl, disobey, just to have him punish me more. But my body was raging with arousal, my pulse hammering in my ears. I needed him to fuck me, rough andhard.
“Yes, sir,” I murmured, standing to my full height.
Mac lounged, pants undone, his cock thick and straining beneath the waistband. He looked wrecked—makeup smudged and hair wild.
“Gimme a spin,” he instructed, lazily twirling two fingers in the air.
Slowly, I followed his command, feeling his gaze rake over me, scorching every inch of my exposed skin.
When I turned back to face him, I smirked. “Now what?”
His lips curled, dark amusement flickering in his eyes. “So eager to follow orders now?”
Mac stood, moving toward me with slow, catlike grace—predatory.
I nodded, teeth sinking into my bottom lip, anticipation crackling between us.
When he was close enough, I lifted my chin, my breath hitching at his proximity.
