Page 33 of House Rules
“Hm. A question for you, first. Why are you here, little firebird?” he asks as the pleasure in my core builds with the way his fingers are working my clit. My eyelids feel heavy, but I can’t close them. I can’t look away from his gaze.
“I’m here because you and the other Titans?—”
“No, I want to know why you’re here. I know why we want you here, but no one forced you to sign that contract. What do you want with us, little firebird?”
“You asked for me specifically.” The urge to tell him everything—the mafia’s threats, my father’s debts, the sword of Damocles swinging over my head—I want to tell him all of it.
I know better, though. Taking a breath, I lock it down and push the urge aside.
Maverick shakes his head a little. “You read the contract. You’ve gotta know Con is aiming for revenge. Why would you agree to that? Why would you agree to let us use you, fuck you, hurt you, and do whatever the fuck we want to you…for an entire year? Do you have so little self-respect?”
I flinch. That stings. Of course I respect myself. I respect myself enough not to want to end up dead.
His fingers work harder, moving faster as he demands his answer, but I don’t know how to answer him without spilling my truths, so I say nothing.
“Stay quiet, then. I’ll learn your secrets, Phoenix, every single one of them. I will pull them from your body one by one. Whether it requires pain or pleasure, I will find out what makes you tick. Nothing will stop me, even if I have to spend hours taking you apart and putting you back together again. I’ll have it all.”
“Do you promise?” I ask on a swallow. I’m pretty sure his words are meant to be a threat, but theysound like they’ll make a heaven out of the hell he intends.
He smirks to cover his surprise. “You’re an odd one, Phoenix Jones.”
“What are you going to do about it?” I rephrase my earlier question, suddenly feeling bold, sexy, and wanted. I’m not sure if it’s the dress, the fire in his eyes as he stares down at me, or the way his fingers are still moving inside my channel and over my clit, pushing me towards what promises to be the best orgasm of my life.
“Little firebird, there are so many things that I’m going to do to you. This year, you’re going to learn to crave my cock. You’re going to learn the right way to serve me on your knees and how to take my cock wherever I tell you to.” He takes my hand and presses it to his chest, then slides it down his body so I can feel the hard ridges of his abdomen beneath his silky button-down shirt, and then still further, down to his jeans where I can feel his hard cock throbbing.
Sweet Saint Mary.
I knew he had to be big. There’s no way a man could get to be six feet, five inches, with shoulders asbroad as Maverick’s, and not be proportionally endowed. The man is built to be a linebacker in the NFL. I knew he would be well above-average, but I didn’t expect his cock to be so thick.
I’m not sure, feeling it through his jeans, how I’m supposed to fit that anywhere. Though he did just say he was going to teach me how to take it. I have a feeling I’m going to need several lessons.
“So how long, little firebird? How long will it take to train your body to take all of this?”
I have no idea what the right answer is, but I keep my hand where he left it and stroke up and down, getting a feel for it, feeling more than a little powerful as his eyes slide closed for a moment.
“Yeah, this game’s going to be fun.” He grabs my throat and squeezes just behind my jaw so my mouth opens. Sliding his fingers from my body, he uses them to paint my lips with my own arousal.
Then he seals his lips over mine, tasting all of me in one sweet and tart kiss. I can taste myself on his tongue, an unfamiliar but not unappealing flavor.
He draws back, staring down at me broodingly. “Good girl,” he murmurs once again, almost thoughtfully.
Releasing me, he steps back and then walks out of the room.
I remain standing there, frozen. I don’t understand.
He clearly wanted to fuck me. The way he was touching me, how hard his cock was…I don’t get why he didn’t? He can. Wasn’t that the entire point of that ridiculous contract?
Isn’t that why they had me sign away my rights for the next year? So I am theirs to do with as they please? Why would he walk away?
I suddenly feel cold and empty, tears prickling at the back of my eyes as my body continues to tremble with the remnants of my denied pleasure.
He left me on the edge of something brutal and beautiful—and I can’t decide if it was mercy, cruelty, or just another game.
But I want to win. I want him to lose his grip the way I just did. I want more than pleasure.
I want proof that even Titans can fall.
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