Page 55 of The Deeper Game
“You think anybody is really operating on stupid versus smart?” he asked between kisses. “You think you are?”
“Of course.”
“You do?” He kissed me long and strong, tongue like a rough snake.
My breath sped as he smoothed his hands down my neck, down to my breasts. He closed his fingers around my nipples and squeezed, sending bolts of feeling through to my pussy.
I shut my eyes, teetering on the knife-edge of the unknown. “Odin—”
“Look where you are right now,” he whispered. “Look at your life—you’re a fugitive. You let three outlaws have sex with you whenever they please.”
“Your point?”
He trailed his fingers down my belly, down into my yoga pants, and to my drenched panties. He shifted and pushed the fabric aside, touching me with just one finger, sliding it gently in between my folds, amber eyes fixed on mine. I drew up at the feeling of his finger, which he slid back and forth. “Most people would think it’s stupid, how you’re living.”
“I don’t care,” I gasped as he circled his finger around on my sensitive nub now.
I was utterly under his control, now.
He stroked expertly, toying with me.
I fought the feeling, but I was losing my train of thought a little. There was something I was trying to find out!
He added a finger, lengthening his strokes. “So you would say that it is objectively smart, Isis, to become what you have become?” He pushed two fingers fully inside me now.
“Probably,” I gasped as he curled and moved them in a diabolically delicious way. “Oh, God,” I said.
He took over the stroking with his thumb and fucked me with his fingers, taking me in a lewd, hot way. “Would all of this seem smart to an outside observer?” he whispered into my ear, and then he pulled his face away and watched my eyes as he continued to pleasure me, blotting out my thoughts with his clever fingers.
It was a little unfair, him carrying on this conversation with me while he was getting me off.
“What do you say, Isis? Do you prefer to operate on stupid and smart, or something else entirely?”
“You’re not being fair,” I gasped.
“You love a good power imbalance,” he whispered.
He loved it, too. He loved when I was melty and helpless. We all did!
And this new twist now, simultaneously asking me hard questions while destroying my train of thought. It was the intellectual version of being bound and helpless and fucked by a fully clothed man.
“Would this seem stupid to an outside observer?”
“I don’t care,” I gasped, belly lit up with feeling.
“Because you just want it,” he added.
“Yes,” I gasped. “I just want it.”
“You just fucking want it.”
“Yes,” I repeated.
“Precisely,” he whispered. And he finger fucked me in a new way, thumb playing on my sensitive clit, owning me, controlling me.
I tried to focus, knowing I’d just conceded some sort of point, but my entire being was too busy melting under his clever fingers, and finally I broke apart in a thousand-star orgasm, and all I could do was ride it, panting, shattering, as I came.
When I focused my eyes, I saw him standing over me, cock visibly hard in his jeans. “Sometimes you just want what you want, even if it doesn’t seem smart. We want vengeance. The Prime.”
