Page 72 of Twisted Game


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I spear my tongue into her pussy, lapping at her wetness. She writhes against my face, and I hold her tighter, pinning her down and making her take it.

“That’s right,Solnyshka,” I mutter, my voice muffled. “Scream for me.”

Each pass of my tongue makes her cry out, and those cries get louder and louder as I keep going, moving between fucking her with my tongue and licking at her clit.

It sates something primal inside me, having my head between her legs like this. I haven’t fucked anyone since the night she came to our place, and it had been way longer than usual before that time too. But I haven’t wanted anyone. All I can picture whenever I’m with a woman these days is a head of soft blonde hair, a petite face with delicate features, large eyes, and full lips.

Even her scars make her fucking gorgeous, like no one I’ve ever seen before.

“Malice,” Willow chokes out, bucking hard on the bed.

Something about hearing her say my name like that, desperate and needy, makes me feel wild. I’m almost fucking feral from the desire that beats through my body.

I go to town on her pussy, hard and fast, and it doesn’t take long before she’s shaking, a chorus of pleas falling from those soft lips.

“Oh god. Oh god, please! I’m—”

I don’t stop until she’s falling apart, her high cries reaching a crescendo that signals her orgasm. She bucks against my tight grip, and I hold her down as she rides the wave of it, never letting up on her clit. When she starts trying in earnest to get away from me, I finally let up, releasing my hold on her and leaning over the bed to hover above her.

My cock is aching in my pants, pressed tight against the fly, desperate to be freed. I’m dying to bury myself in that wet heat I was just eating like my last meal. I want to fuck her into the mattress until she’s begging for more.

But I don’t do it.

Instead, I grip her chin and stare down into her eyes.

“Give me the fucking name, Willow,” I say, going back to our previous discussion as if nothing interrupted us.

She looks dazed and strung out, but in a much different way than before. Her pupils are huge, and instead of being deathly pale, her cheeks are flushed now. It seems to take a second for her brain to catch up to the sudden shift of gears, and before it can, the words slip past her lips.

“Colin,” she whispers. “It was Colin DeVry.”

Colin DeVry.

Without a word, I push away from the bed and stalk toward the door, leaving Willow sprawled out on the bed. Her taste is still on my tongue, her scent invading my senses, but I tell myself it doesn’t mean anything. The only reason I went down on her was to break down her resistance and get her to tell me the truth.

But even as I leave her apartment, I know that’s a lie.

23

WILLOW

I lie in bed,completely naked as my lower body hangs off the edge of the mattress. My pussy is still clenching, my clit still throbbing.

The front door slams shut as Malice leaves, and I scoot back up on the mattress, burrow under the blankets, and curl onto my side, my emotions in an uproar. My head is starting to pound a little, and I feel exhausted all the way down to my bones.

I don’t know what he’s going to do, and part of me feels like I should stop him from doing whatever he’s thinking of. But I can’t seem to make myself move, all the exhaustion from the night finally catching up to me.

He’s impossible to understand. His mood swings are powerful enough to give me whiplash, like being in a shower that switches from hot to cold water on a dime. Malice always seems to hate me. He’s threatened to kill me more than once, but he and his brothers have protected me so many times now.

Why does he do that?

And why do I let him past my walls? Why does my body seem to crave him so much? Crave them all?

Maybe… maybe I’m as twisted and fucked up as I always wanted to avoid being. Maybe I’m not normal, not a person who’s attracted to normal guys.

Instead, I crave monsters.

Colin was a monster too, a voice in the back of my head whispers.He just tried to hide it. At least these three men are monsters who don’t bother disguising who they are.

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