Page 35 of Ruthless Game

Emma

By the time I got home, my face was dry. I let myself back into the house, careful to be quiet. My parents were long asleep, and Jeffrey probably had his headphones in so he could play video games without disturbing anyone.

I felt ravaged, destroyed, my legs so shaky I could barely walk. My body was sticky from the residue of Lawson’s cum that hadn’t been rinsed off by the rain, and I could feel beard burn all over my breasts and thighs. My sex still clenched weakly, needing something. No, not something. Lawson. I needed him to finish what he’d started, but I was beginning to understand he wasn’t going to.

No matter what I did.

And the worst part? I was beginning to like it. No, not like it—crave it. I’d never been able to let go that way, to let someone else take all control—fight them, beg them—and still not get what I thought I wanted. As painful as being edged was, being so close to coming was exhilarating, and mind-bendingly pleasurable.

I still wanted to come though.

I walked softly to the shared hallway bathroom, humming to myself. My skin was buzzing. Admitting how I truly felt was like getting a contact high. Turning on the shower, I stripped, letting the steam caress my skin like a lover’s hands. Like Lawson’s hands. I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water fall over my body and face, oddly sad as it washed away the claim Lawson had left on my body. The heat did nothing to calm my body, and so I slowly slid my hand between my thighs, uncomfortable as if I was being watched. I touched my sensitive clit, covering my face with my hand so no one could hear my moans and whimpers. As I stroked myself, I saw Lawson in my head, the intensity in his dark blue eyes as he touched me almost frantically, like he couldn’t decide where to look. The feel of his mouth on my sex, sucking and biting, spitting in my mouth and then kissing me like he owned me⁠—

Oh thank god, I was going to come.

And why did I feel so guilty? Like I was doing something wrong, something he hadn’t given me permission to do? What was happening to me?

As if he’d heard my thoughts, my phone vibrated on the cabinet that held the towels.

I reached my hand out of the shower so I could glance at it, but I’d already known who it would be.

Blackmailing Asshole: Don’t you dare touch yourself, Angel. Or there will be hell to pay.

Emma: What kind of hell?

Blackmailing Asshole: Don’t try me.

Something alien possessed me, because I responded with:

Emma: What if I want to find out?

My phone started vibrating again, this time with a “Blackmailing Asshole calling.”

I answered, excitement so sharp, it felt like nausea.

A video appeared. Lawson, shirtless, a pillow behind his head.

“Can you prop up your phone in the shower?” he asked immediately.

There was a small shelf in the shower, and if I angled the phone away, it wouldn’t get soaked. And my phone was waterproof.

“I think so,” I said.

“If it gets messed up, I’ll buy you a new one. Put it in the shower. I want to watch.”

I blushed. It didn’t matter that I’d been naked on the rock earlier, letting him watch me shower felt intimate in a much more intense way, especially because he didn’t have his hands on me, and I felt like I had more control.

I hesitated.

“God, when you blush, your whole body turns pink.”

“It’s the hot water,” I said immediately.

“Bullshit.” One of his hands disappeared from view. “It wasn’t pink a moment ago. I love that I can see how embarrassed you are, Star—Angel. Love the effect I have on you. Squeeze some shower gel on your tits. Get clean for me, baby.”

Picking up the lavender scented body wash, I popped open the top and squeezed the bottle. Cold gel hit my cleavage, starting to slide down, thick and a little sticky.

“Massage it around your chest.”