Page 10 of Dangerous Games

“You may get dressed if you’d like, but I’m not leaving.” He is calm but stern. I know he means what he says. It angers me, but I say nothing. There is no point in arguing with this pompous jerk. I glare at him, scooting back onto the bed. He’s toying with me. “Why are your juvenile records sealed, Nanette? What happened to you?”

And now he’s prying, trying to get at my weak spot. Well, I won’t let him. “Get out,” I scream, throwing a pillow at him. He knows nothing, and he will know nothing. I won’t ever tell a soul what happened. If I do, they’ll know. They’ll know what Jimmy did, why he was hurt.

“I told you; I’m not leaving. And now I have questions. Like, who was it, you or Jimmy—”

“Shut up! Just shut up! Get out,” I shout again, tossing another pillow at him but he merely smirks. He knows something, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of confirmation. He’d have to beat it out of me. He sits there so smug, in control of his emotions like a damn robot, and all I can do is tremble. I can stand naked in a room full of strangers. That sort of transparency is easy. I understand it.

I’ve used my body for years like a tool. Men do what I want when I flaunt my curves. I run four times a week to make sure my body stays in prime shape too, just to keep my tool effective. But this? Dominic knowing my darkness, the pain, the wound. This is not okay. This sort of transparency isn’t safe. It’s scary.

Dominic stands, slipping his suit coat off. He drapes it over the chair then loosens his tie. As he slowly pulls it from around his neck, he says, “So you’re going to fight me the entire way? You know I have my ways, Nanette. You think you came here simply to be leverage against Jimmy. I’m a complex man. You can’t see all the things I do all the time, but in the end I get what I want.”

“Stay away from me,” I say, trembling. He unbuttons his shirt as he stares at me as each button is loosed. I can’t pull my eyes away. His shirt opens slowly, inches at a time as his fingers work. His body is bronzed, hours in the sun or a tanning bed. His cut, well-defined muscles rippling across his chest and abs. He leaves the shirt hanging open and reaches for the corner of the sheet, just out of my reach.

I scramble, trying to hold onto it, but he tugs at it hard, yanking it from my grasp. It whips across the foot of the bed and falls to the floor, and I am left exposed, only my panties to cover me. I fold my arms over my chest. “You’re a pervert. What do you get off on forcing women to fuck you?” I curl into a ball, leaning back against the headboard.

“Quite the opposite,” he growls, slipping his shirt off. It falls to the floor at his feet, and he steps out of his shoes. I see the growing bulge in his slacks, and it makes my groin ache. I know what he wants, and just seeing how quickly he gets hard simply because I’m here in this bed arouses me too, but I refuse to admit it to him. “Women get off on the fact that I even talk to them. But this isn’t what it is about.”

“What do you want then?” I’m not following him. He clearly wants to fuck me. His hands are working his zipper now, sliding his slacks down. His cock is hard, so long his head pops out of the waistband of his boxers. I swallow and try to look away, but he catches me noticing it.

“Don’t worry, Nan. You’ll get it soon enough. Just tell me, was it you or Jimmy?”

“I don't know what you mean,” I tell him squirming farther across the bed. I’m at the edge, ready to fall off as he pushes his boxers down and they fall to the carpet. I know exactly what he means, and I won’t tell him. I’ll never tell anyone.

My pussy hurts, screaming at me to use my feminine wiles to seduce him, to let him fuck me until I’m screaming his name. Maybe that will satisfy the beast in him, and he’ll let me go. I’ve done it before—used my body to escape like this. I just…

“Tell me, Nan. Did the judge hurt you?”

I gasp. How does he know? What does he know? I try to turn away, but he reaches for me, snatching my ankle. With one hard pull I’m supine on the bed, reaching for the far side, but his hands pin me down. “Go away!” I screech, pushing at him, but he is in my face, body pressing down on mine now. I turn my head and he breathes into my ear.

“Remember, you volunteered to come here, because you want Jimmy to finish his job safely.” The low grumble in my ear sends vibrations through my entire body. I shudder with arousal. I want him; I want him so bad I can taste it. Why do I want him? What’s wrong with me? He’s keeping me here prisoner until Jimmy kills someone, and I’m stuck in the middle of this strange arrangement. How can I possibly want him?

“Go away,” I mumble again, keeping my head turned, but he nibbles on my ear.

“Tell me your secrets, Nan. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me…”

His words haunt me, making me fawn at his touch. Jimmy said that, right after it happened. He said those words, and they freed me. Why are they freezing me now? Why am I here, letting this man grope my breasts? How could he possibly save me? He doesn’t know what happened. He can’t undo the past.

“I don’t need to be saved,” I snap, and look up at him as he pinches my nipple, twisting it between his finger and thumb. “You can’t save me.” There is a hunger in his eyes that is unmistakable. I’ve seen it in the eyes of a hundred men; they’re all the same. He thinks he owns me.

His cock grinds against my panties and I can feel the moisture there. I know he can feel it too. A look of desire flashes in his gaze and he grinds against me again and again, a slow methodical rhythm that finds me pushing back, wanting him too.

“Someone is feeling a little aroused, aren’t they?”

“Fuck you.” I try to resist, but he’s right. I want him. I can’t fight it.

“Don’t hate me, Nan. I’m only giving you what you want. I saw it in your eyes when I walked into Jimmy’s kitchen.”

His hands slide down my torso to the elastic of my panties and push them down. When they’re around my thighs he slides his cock between my legs, letting it dip into the moisture I’ve made. He’s thick, and long. It smears my juices everywhere and makes me clench instinctively. I hiss and grip the sheets. I want him in me so badly.

“I hate you,” I whisper, whimpering as he pulls away.

“You don’t hate me. You’re only saying that because I own you. I know what you want, what you think, how to turn you on.” He rises and tugs my panties off and I scoot back toward the headboard, but he pulls my legs back. “Stay here. Trust me, you don’t want to do that. You want to obey me.”

I whimper again, torn inside. God how badly I want him to fuck me, but he is the enemy. He can’t do this to me, keep me here as his fuck toy while my brother does some dangerous job for him. And I don’t want to want him. I want my body to fuck off, to shut down and be disgusted by him, but the instant he drops to his knees and plunges his tongue into my slit I am undone.

He eats me, sucking and slurping at my folds, growling and squeezing my hips as he scrapes his stubbled face along my thighs and groin. “Shit, Dominic…” I hiss, reaching for his hair. It’s amazing the way his tongue moves across me, filling me and then pulling away. He moves his head back and forth, rubbing his nose across my clit as his tongue thrusts into me and I’m on the edge already.

I’m leaning over him, tearing at his hair and my body is on the verge of collapse. I put all my weight on his head, and he doesn’t even seem to mind. It’s like this is what he wants, to make me a puddling mess to control me, but this is my game; this is what I do. Not him. He is a killer, not a lover.

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