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His wet finger slipped down between my ass cheeks and circled that sensitive back hole. Bastard. He knew exactly what he was doing. Knew exactly where to touch me to set me off. He slipped his finger in my ass and I let out a cry. With his finger in my back hole and his thumb in my pussy, he pulled and rubbed at the sensitive flesh between both holes, playing my body like an instrument.
“Come.”
He sucked my clit into his mouth. I screamed as I came, my hands above my head, gripping the edge of the mattress, my fingers digging into that little seam like it was a crack in a cliff face, gripping it so tightly that my nails might crack. My back arched off the bed, taking the sweat-soaked sheets with it, rising like I was being exorcised.
Just as I was melting into the sheets, feeling like I could lose myself forever, there was Mason kneeling between my legs, pinning my hips down like I was his prey. His hungry eyes told me everything. He wanted to rip me apart. To destroy me. To make me a meal and to devour every single last bite.
I felt Mason’s cock at my entrance, urgent and pressing. I felt me pressing back against him, just as urgent. Rising back up from the bed to meet him. To challenge him. My trembling thighs straining as I hitched my hips to urge him closer. My body was already aching again. Already hungry again. Already wanting again.
He plunged into me, hard and fast. I was so wet I accepted him fully, our twin groans echoing as he rammed into the hilt.
No hesitation. He pulled back and thrust into me again, the pressure already building back up inside me.
“Fuck, I love this tight little cunt.”
He was merciless. Fucking me like he hated me. Like he was punishing me. Throwing my legs up over his shoulders so he could fuck me deeper. And fuck, his dirty mouth…
“Such a greedy little slut. My dirty little slut. Look at the way you’re milking my cock. You’re going to come for me again, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I cried out.
He reached out, wrapped his hand around my throat and squeezed. A rush filled my head. Spots danced in front of my vision. My entire body buzzed.
“When you come, who are you going to come for?” he growled. His cock was relentless as he rammed into me like he was trying to break me apart.
“You,” I croaked.
“Who do you belong to?”
“You,” I chanted, barely a whisper on my numbing lips. “You, only you.”
“Then come.”
His hand loosened around my throat and the rush of blood flooding into my head made my whole body electrify, sending me over the edge.
I screamed his name. Heard him scream mine. Felt his warmth spill into me. We held onto each other as we rode our orgasms together.
We sagged together, and it was like the last ten years—the time, the distance, the hurt—were exhaled along with our breaths. He gently placed my legs down then lowered his forehead on mine as he rested forward on his elbows. For a few long moments, it was just our breaths tangling just like our bodies were still tangled. Like our souls were. There was no then and now, just us.
“Rachel,” he whispered, his voice breaking, “I—”
There was a high-pitched moan. A moan?
I turned my gaze over to see Miss Last Night, sagging against the pillows.
Oh my God. She was here. She was still fucking here.
And she’d just come from watching us come.
We’d fucked in front of her. Our intimate moment, destroyed by the reminder that this was just a fucking game.
“Bravo! Bravo! So fucking hot!”
She brought her fingers, wet from her cum, to her swollen lips. Her grin turned my stomach as she sucked them into her mouth, choking herself on them as she pushed them deeper inside.
I turned to look at Mason and just like that, the world came crashing back. The past ten years and all their emptiness. The blackmail. The lies. The game. This fucking game.
What the fuck did I just do? Mason was above me, chest heaving, wide eyes like he’d only just woken up, too.
