Page 80 of The Games We Play

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” she says, but she’s losing her fight. Her body isn’t as rigid under my hand. I cup the apex of her thighs and lift her to her toes. She gasps, and I grin.

“Let’s try that again, Puppet.” She shudders under my touch, and I want to lick up her neck to see how the fight leaving her body tastes. I lean in closer, pressing my finger against the seam of her jogging pants—my jogging pants. I groan as I realize she’s in my fucking clothes.

“Fuck you,” she whispers, and I take in a deep breath through my teeth.

“Is that what you want?” Fuck the idea of trying to do the right thing and any other rational thought I was giving myself earlier. If she says yes, I’ll take her on this hood right here, and I won’t regret a goddamn thing about it. I rub my finger back and forth, slowly, teasingly, while keeping her firmly pinned with my forearm. She whimpers, and her legs spread wider, inviting me in.

“How about I tell you what I think you want? Hmm?” I say, staring down at her molten gaze. “You want me to rip these pants off of you so I can get better access to that needy cunt? Then I’d drop to my knees, throw your legs over my shoulders, and devour you like I’m a man on death row, and you’re my last meal.”

Her chest stops moving as her breath catches, and her eyes betray her by flicking to my lips. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Puppet?”

I move my hand from between her legs and slide my hand inside the front of her pants, dipping my fingers to graze across her soaked pussy. Her back arches slightly, and I can tell she’s still fighting her desires. That won’t do. “So fucking wet for me.” I spread her juices over her swollen clit, and she bites on her bottom lip underneath me. “After you came on my face, I’d make you watch as I slowly dropped my pants and worked my cock with my hand. When you begged because you couldn’t take it anymore, I’d crawl up between your legs and fill you with my cock.”

I plunge one finger inside her on the wordcock, and her pussy clenches around the digit. “I wouldn’t be gentle or slow.” Sliding my finger in and out of her faster, I add a second one when her legs spread further. “That’s not what you want. Is it? You don’t want someone to treat you like a child or something fragile.” Her body tenses, and I can tell she’s close. “You want to be destroyed and ruined. My filthy slut.”

“Yes,” she cries out, and I quickly pull my fingers out and step back, robbing her of the one thing she wants. “No, no, no! You fucking bastard!” she screams as she teeters at the peak of her orgasm.

I suck her delicious juices off my fingers, and she shoves off the hood to stand toe to toe with me. I moan around the fingers in my mouth, and her gaze locks onto my lips. “You’re a monster,” she states through gritted teeth.

“And you’re walking your ass back to that farmhouse where you’re safe,” I order, pointing back up the road. My car is trashed, which means I’ll be following her every step of the way. “The mess between your legs will remind you that what I say goes. Nothing has changed between us, Puppet. You’re still mine to do with what I want and when I want.”

“So what, you send me away, and still I’ll be haunted by you? Never to have another man touch me or fuck me until I don’t remember your name? If you’re going to send me away, at least have the decency to give me a clean break! Just let me fucking go!” she screams, and my mind conjures images of other men, strangers fucking Puppet in a bed I’ve never been in.

“I’m not a decent man.”

She scoffs, and I think I see a shimmer across her eyes before she turns away from me. “You should’ve bought me at the auction then.” I feel like I’ve been shot with her words. Is that what she thinks? That thisthingbetween us is nothing more than a power trip? Can she not see how I really feel? What the fear of something happening to her is doing to me?

“Come on, Roxy,” she calls her dog, and I stare after her for several heartbeats before falling into step behind her. As if tonight couldn’t get any worse, it starts to sprinkle.

***

Thunder rumbles, rattling theglass, and I jump from bed. I’m drenched in sweat and pant through whatever nightmare I was having. I can’t remember the details, but the leftover terror courses through my veins. Lighting flashes, illuminating the room, and I fall back into the pillow.

Footsteps stampede past my door, and I jump back up, grabbing my pistol off the nightstand. I wince as I move my stiff muscles and tiptoe to the side of my door frame. The car crash did nothing to help my beaten body, and I’m wondering if I’ll ever feel normal again.

More footsteps race past from the opposite direction, and I crack the door. Another boom of thunder shakes the house, and a blur of yellow bolts past, followed by a half-dressed Tess. I open the door wider, lowering the gun.

“Tess?” She skids to a stop. Her hair is the perfect mixture of tousled from sleep and wild. After our walk back to the house, she closed her door and clicked the lock.

“I’m sorry. I don’t need you. Roxy is just scared of thunderstorms and—well—” She points as Roxy runs past us both on cue to the oppositeside of the house. Her words hurt.I don’t need you. Oh, but you do; you just don’t see it.

“Does chasing her help?” I ask, a hint of teasing in my tone.

She levels me with a glare and crosses her arms. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts, which hits her mid-thigh. I have to force myself to look away instead of drinking her in like I so desperately want.

“I didn’t want her to wake up Doc,” she states.

“Well, it seems we’re all awake now. I made some tea, so we might as well wait out the storm and Roxy,” Doc says, coming up from behind me. “Come on, you two.” He was a worried mess when we got back, although he hid it well. He hadn’t heard from the Saunders brothers yet, so we still don’t know anything about Darius or November.

“Let me get some pants,” I say, and Tess’s gaze trails down my bare torso and lands right on my crotch. My cock stirs like I didn’t just jerk off to her hours ago, and I turn before she can see the reaction she causes. When I get to the living area, she’s sitting on the couch. Thankfully, she found some shorts, too. Not that they’re any longer than my T-shirt on her legs—wait—those aren’t shorts, they’re my fucking boxers.

Is she trying to fuck with me? She arches her brow, and I’m stunned. Perhaps it’s not Tess I’m dealing with right now, but Puppet ready to continue what I started earlier.

I take the teacup from Doc, who insists this stuff is the cure for every ailment, and sit while I grind my teeth to keep it together.

Roxy runs past, panting, and another thunderclap cracks above the house.

“Does this happen every time?” I ask, realizing we’ve not had a thunderstorm since I started watching her.

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