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“Good,” he says again, but inhales as he looks down at me hungrily. I’ve only just met this man, yet the anticipation of his touch is unlike anything I’ve ever felt with anyone else.
He gets onto the bed, positioning himself between my legs. His hand still rests on my chest, where it lingers for a moment before he begins to trail his fingers downward between my tits.
“Where shall I touch you first, Eve?”
To show him, I reach up, caressing my curves and palming my tits. “Here,” I breathe, running my thumbs over my peaked nipples. My back arches at the sensation, finding even my own touch deeply arousing.
“Hands above your head,” Laurence says, and I slide my arms out of the way, gripping the edge of the mattress as his touch moves ever so slowly to mimic what I just showed him. His touch on my nipples is not only significantly better than my own touch, or anyone else’s, it’s better than I ever imagined. He rubs me gently, and heat courses through my body. He hums appreciatively at my labored breathing, and then he adjusts, pinching my nipples delicately.
I slide my feet across the top of the bedspread, squirming under his attentive touch.
He switches to gentle again, tugging lightly on my nipple, only to betray my senses and twist it harder. When I moan louder, he watches with satisfaction.
He pushes my thighs up around him, his hand still palming my breast as the other hand slides up to my other breast. But it doesn’t stop there. It moves to my throat, where he grips me lightly.
“Is it rough that gets you off?” he asks, and when I don’t immediately respond, he slaps my tit. I yelp, biting down on my lip as he proceeds into his routine of rubbing away the hurt gently, then twisting until it stings and slapping me. His grip on my throat tightens.
“Does that feel good for you, Ten?”
The name switch rattles me, but in a good way.
He gets to the slapping portion of the routine again, and I wince and squirm beneath his touch. My face turns hot, my body convulsing as the throbbing between my legs starts to become unbearable.
“If I put my fingers inside your pussy, how wet will I find you?”
“Why don’t you try it and find out?” I challenge him, slowly opening my gaze to meet his eyes through heavy lids. I don’t want him to stop his torture of my tits, which are peaked and begging for more of his touch, but I’m also eager to feel that same attentiveness between my legs.
“As you wish.”
He keeps his hand around my throat and abandons my nipple to trace the curve of my hips. His fingers reach between my legs, where they tease the outside of my pussy, sliding up and down. I buck underneath his hand. He tightens around my throat to the point of labored breathing and presses his hand flat on my navel, pushing me down into the bed.
“You’re at my mercy, Ten. Remember that.”
I stop my bucking and allow his fingers to continue their slow torture until I’m rewarded with his fingers slipping in between my folds, teasing my clit.
“You’re going to be an obedient player, Ten.”
I nod. His fingers slide inside me like he promised. I think I would do anything for him as he strokes inside me, his thumb keeping pressure on my clit.
“I need to hear you say it, Ten.” He says it like a threat, and his fingers stop inside me. “Tell me you’ll obey.”
I whimper, bucking my hips again. “I’ll obey you, please. I’ll do whatever you say.”
“Good girl.”
And then he fucks me with his expert fingers until I sink into oblivion.
Chapter Eight: Eve
The Guiding Hand
The Players are lined up in the same room we were in for the first game. Our doors line the walls, our numbers already dwindled by two. It would have been three if Laurence hadn’t taken it upon himself to save me from disqualification.
Iris appears in her tight skirt and button up, looking very business formal, as per usual. Her hair is in its usual tight bun as she smiles at us.
“Good morning, Players. Welcome to your second game. I’m sure you’ve all had some time to get to know your Advocates.” Her gaze lands on me, eyes narrowing slightly. “While some of you have been given gracious second chances.” She clasps her hands behind her back and begins to pace in front of us. “You have been given a very generous opportunity here, ladies, and while the games are for entertainment, carrying yourself like the refined women you are is also important.”
Her eyes land on me again, giving me a pointed look this time. I roll my eyes, bored of this “refined, quiet women only” dialogue she’s giving. But I can tell people like Monica and Stella are eating it up. Stella smirks, raising her chin.
