Page 1 of The Players

Chapter one

OnethingIneverexpected, in my eighteen years on the planet, was that I would have sex with Hector Contreras, son of my arch nemesis and the man who ruined my family. I never expected I’d look at Hector with anything but disdain, yet here I was in his room, naked as the day I was born.

Fucking him.

And enjoying the hell out of it.

I gazed up at him as he rocked above me—his caramel-colored skin, slick and glistening, his muscular frame like a photo out of a men’s magazine. Hector was the kind of handsome you couldn’t believe was real. Girls stopped in their tracks when they saw him. They threw themselves at his feet just to be near his glory.

And he wanted me.

I lost the thread of thought as he rocked inside me. Strong thrusts that made me moan and pant and claw my fingernails into his shoulders and beg for him to keep going. I trembled as pleasure coursed over my skin, pooling in all the right places. I quivered as the ecstasy built, starting in my core and radiating down my limbs. Hector was a master lover. He knew how to make me shake, building it over and over until I came in a massive wave of ecstasy. Today he was taking his time, the lovemaking slow and luxurious.

My body blazed as Hector pulled me closer to him, our skin skimming against each other with delicious closeness. When I was with Hector, I wanted to devour him, eat him up like dessert, and come back for seconds. His love-making felt decadent as he rocked his hips and hit a spot that made me tingle while calling out his name.

He had talent. I had to give him that.

My mind flashed to our last encounter as he slowly slid inside me. I wanted more than a repeat of last time. Our often frantic trysts, which by all accounts had been fantastic, were rushed. Still, my desire burned like spilled gasoline, not allowing me to take my time. I dug my nails harder into his back and shivered as he hit that spot again and again.

“Faster,” I growled. “More.”

He chuckled as if he knew what he was doing to me. Delicious torture. He leaned down and kissed me, his tongue urgent, entering my mouth with languid sweeps as his free hand roamed down my side and squeezed my ass.

As he began to thrust harder and faster, my ache became nearly unbearable, but he didn’t leave me longing.

“You are so fucking tasty, Vivian.” He cupped my breast, sliding his thumbs over my hardening nipples, making three places in my body ripple with want. I dropped my head back, arching into his touch as the sensations took over my body. Tingles of desire blurred reality and fantasy as he thrust into me over and over.

“You’ll drive me mad,” I said, grabbing onto him. Claiming him.

I was going to explode. The pulse in my core was like a second heartbeat. Having him finish me was no longer a want. It was aneed.

When he started to slow down again, I grabbed his shoulder, panting. “Hector, please,” I begged.

“I like making you beg.” His lips pulled into a devilish smile.

He thrust deeper and harder than before, giving me exactly what I wanted. I cried out, clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure burst like a dam, filling me with ecstasy.

Hector shivered as he came, slick muscles tightening. I ran my hands over his back as he sank onto me. His weight was welcome pinning me down. I loved how big he was and how small I felt in comparison.

His head nestled into my neck, and he inhaled deeply. “You’re so glorious, Vivian.”

I smiled and gently ran my nails down his back. Hector was pretty damn great himself, but I couldn’t tell him that. He was rich, powerful, one of the fucking Lords for god’s sake. He didn’t need praise from me. He had every privilege, praise, and position available, more than I’ve ever had. Even if his father was a dick who is having an affair with some local sportscaster with perky tits and fake eyelashes, he was still a powerful lawyer, one who used his connections and influence to get anything he wanted from more powerful douchebags in our city.

Hector’s father had once used that power and influence to close the case of my parents' murder. He’d wanted an open-and-shut case, so he’d decided my father had murdered my mother and killed himself. It didn’t matter how many times I told the police they were wrong, that my loving father would nevereverdo something like that. Hector’s father didn’t want to hear it. They’d thought I was crazy, just another grieving daughter looking for any reason to believe her father wasn’t a monster.

But I wasn’t crazy. My father would never have done something like that.

Yet, no one wanted to listen to me.

Hector knew this. Hector also knew I hated his father, even though we’d learned that he wasn’t solely responsible for what had happened to my parents. Only a month ago we learned that it was Easton Hill’s father who had something to do with it, too.

The thought of Easton ran a chill through my body, and not the good kind this time. Easton Hill was the most powerful boy at our school. He was the head Lord, or at least he had been before I’d gotten involved with them, and three of the five had revolted against Easton’s tyranny. They’d tried to save me from Easton’s torment, and yet, Easton had still managed to bury me alive in a so-called game-gone-bad.

I’d nearly died. Suffocated in an unmarked grave. The boys had dug me out.

I’d survived.

Barely.

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