Page 83 of The Games We Play

Forty-Two - X

The day my brothertold me he was getting married, I tried to talk him out of it. Bringing anyone into our world, trying to start a family, the idea oflove, it was suicide.

I’ve learned that the hard way.

But hearing Puppet say those three words, even aftereverythingI’ve put her through—I’m the furthest thing from a saint, and I’ll damn her soul to hell with me if that’s what she truly wants.

“Say it,” I rasp, needing to hear it one more time like I’m Beetlejuice, and the third time she says my name will set me free.

“I. Want. You. Xane.”

I close my eyes and revel in the feel of those words as they settle on my skin, and the weight of them hits me in my chest. She said my name, not X. She’s staring at me and knows my name, something I’ve wanted for so long and didn’t think I’d ever have.

Who am I to deny the woman who carved her initials into my chest? The idea of watching her live her life with another man’s hands on hernearly sends me over the edge, and I growl as I grab her ass and lift her onto my hips.

This woman is my creation. Mine.

I press my lips to hers and moan as hers part, and I slip my tongue in. Something cold bites against my throat, and I pause, breaking the kiss, and lean back to stare at the fiery blue eyes staring directly at me.

“Puppet?” I question a hint of humor in my tone. I’ve had enough knives pulled on me. I know what one feels like.

“If youevertry to leave me behind, I’ll kill you, Xane Collins.” Her skin is flushed pink. I lean into the knife, kissing each cheek, then her nose.

“Are you threatening me, or is this foreplay? It’s hard to tell.” I nuzzle into her neck, and as the knife slips away, it slices into my skin.

“It’s a promise,” she hisses, her hands tangling in my hair.

My lips find hers once more, and she bites down, nearly drawing blood before sucking, and my cock tents in my shorts. I carry her to the bedroom and close the door with my foot, not daring to take my hands off her. How is this real? If it is a dream, I never want to wake up.

I lay her down on the bed, and her needy hands claw at my back. “Patience,” I purr, and she scoffs and reaches for my shorts. I stand up and slowly slide them down my thighs. “Remember what you wanted earlier tonight? I’m a starving man, Puppet.” I grin and slide her ass to the edge of the bed before dropping to my knees. I spread her legs and gaze at her perfect pink pussy, it taunting me as it glistens.

“Xane,” she begs, and it’s my name coming off her sweet lips as her cunt greedily waits for me.

My name.

Because she knows who I am now, and she still chose me.

I groan the moment her sweet desire coats my tongue. It’s been months since I’ve had her, and I nearly lose all restraint to take this slowly and savor every second with her. My fingers dig into her thighs, and I flick my gaze up to the beauty lying on her back, writhing as I work her clit with my tongue.

“Xane,” she moans, and my cock hardens, demanding it take the place of my tongue to have her scream my name instead. I pull back and push to my feet.

Puppet props up on her elbows and scowls at me. “No! You can’t do this to me again,” she whines, and I chuckle.

“I’m going to take excellent care of you, Puppet.”

I fist my cock, and she licks her lips. Her eyes dart from my cock to my face, and a fire burns in their blue depths.

“I have an idea,” she says with a maniacal smile. Before I can protest, she’s up from the bed and out my bedroom door.

Naked. What the fuck?

I poke my head out the door into the hallway, looking for any sign of my pet. She comes running down the hall, giggling with a bag over her shoulder.

“What are you doing?” I ask, unable to contain the amusement in my voice.

She drops the bag and bends over, digging through the contents. Her ass is on full display, and I run my hand up and down my cock as I watch her.

She squeals with delight, and I arch a brow. “What are you—?”

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