When his semi-rigid shaft popped out of his underwear, her eyes shot up to his, revealing her apprehension. Perhaps her uneasiness was coming from the fact that her fiancé was waiting at home for her while she was here, with another man’s cock only inches from her face.

Fuck it.

He didn’t give a shit whether or not that asshole was at home waiting for her. Elsa belonged to him and this was his fucking time. He watched her teeth worry the soft flesh of her bottom lip. One half of him wanted to kneel in front of her and hold her close, while the other half wanted to torment her further. Suddenly irritated with the thought of her spending her time away from him with Nathan, his vindictive side won the battle.

Turning around, he glared at her over his shoulder. “Shall I bend over and grab my ankles?”

Elsa gulped loudly and turned her reddened face away from his ass. “That won’t be necessary.”

He couldn’t help but laugh under his breath. Like hell it wasn’t. Everything about her and this game was necessary. Without it, all he had was the fucked up reality of his life waiting for him outside the walls of 2500 East Grace Street.

Facing her again, he gripped his dick and began stroking it, amused with her building agitation and arousal.

Yes, arousal.

It was there, too, just below the surface of her awkwardness. She could try and fight it all she wanted, but there was no denying, she still wanted him. At least that’s what he was trying to convince himself of. To face any other actuality would ruin the game for him and that was simply unacceptable.

The game was going to be played fiercely this time, with no holds barred and no limits. He wouldn’t hurt Elsa like he had before, but he was going to break her by all other means necessary. She may have thought by adding her own rules she was gaining an advantage, but he would show her that there would be only one winner and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the red-head staring up at him, pleading for his mercy with her deceptively beautiful eyes.

4: All In

“Why are you making this awkward?” Victor’s eyes narrowed, becoming dark slits of pure animosity. “It’s not like we haven’t been here before, doing this.”

His insensitive statement hung in the air like the thick stench of manure and Elsa huffed as he continued to stroke his now fully-erect shaft only inches away from her.

“How can it not be?” she stared up at him. “The last time I was in this house, the last time you touched me…”

A muscle in his clenched jaw spasmed and his brows drew together in a frown. “I remember what happened,” he abruptly cut her off as if not wanting to be reminded of his abusive actions. “But that’s not the only reason you’re feeling uncomfortable is it? Your fiancé is on the other side of town and you’re worried he might find out about your little indiscretion. Still, I don’t know why the fuck you’re worried. If you’re half as good at lying to him like you did to me, then he should be completely oblivious as to your whereabouts and what you’re doing behind his back. So do me a favor and lose the guilt. It’s unattractive and makes you look older than you are.”

She couldn’t help but cringe at his harsh statement. Yes, she had lied to him, but only because she was playing the game by his rules.

“I guess things aren’t really going to be that different after all, are they, Mr. Black?” Standing and hiking her skirt up over her hips, she revealed her pussy. “Fine. You want it; take it.” His hungry eyes fixed on the prize between her legs as he backed himself up to the white ottoman near the matching over-sized sofa in the middle of the room.

No panties. Just the way he liked. She remembered well the lesson learned from having worn them before and she made sure this time around she would be one step ahead. When she saw his eyes light up, she knew she had one-upped him. Sure, he could have what was between her legs, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to get her heart again.

When he sat motionless staring at her freshly shaven mound like a hungry wolf, she lost patience and rushed toward him. Straddling him as he sat on the edge of the short, square footstool, she fisted a handful of his thick, dark and gray mane at back of his head and shoved his face into her crotch.

In a flash her wrist was in his grips, his thumb on the top of her hand and twisting it in an unnatural position, making her squeal out in pain from his severe self-defense 101 maneuver.

“Don’t ever fucking try to dominate me, Elsa,” he growled just as he released her.

She rubbed her wrist and tried to back away, but his fingers dug into her hips and pulled her back on top of him. She struggled against him as he forced her body backward and off the edge of the ottoman until her upper shoulders and head came to rest between his feet. The position of her body with her legs splayed open and his hold on her hips left nothing to the imagination. Completely exposed and unable to resist his manipulation, he buried his face between her legs. Placing her hands on the floor next to her, she attempted to steady her body while he greedily sucked and licked at her.

She would not be turned on by this, she promised herself. She would not be lured into his sexual trap. With eyes closed, she tried to imagine that it was Nate orally pleasuring her. That it was his hands now pushing her thighs further apart and his tongue lapping at her. That it was Nate’s grunted moans filling her ears. She tried, God how she tried, but it was useless.

His tantalizing and unique smell, citrus and cigarette, kept her from her denying the truth that was all around her - that she was back in 2500 East Grace Street and under Mr. Black’s control.

How the hell did this happen?

Clawing at the carpet below her, she cursed under her breath.

Nate… poor Nate… her sweet, yet unemotional and less-than satisfying lover…

It wasn’t his fault she was eternally doomed to be controlled by Mr. Fucked Up. If only she could pretend it was Nate and not Victor… Tighter yet she clenched her eyelids, fighting the slow burn in her lower belly that was rapidly growing out of control.

Try, Elsa. Try… she pleaded with herself, but her brain wouldn’t allow her to make believe she was anywhere other than where she was. Here, again, in this house with this merciless man with his mouth on her and his hands all over her; his wants being enforced; his needs being insisted upon. Him and his Goddamn demands and rules, and his fucking threats and promises…

A gruff command from above thrust her back to reality, “Look at me, Elsa.”

It wasn’t Nate’s voice or mouth now causing that deep ache in her loins, and she would never forgive herself for what she had done to him.

“No,” she whispered, forbidding her body to be turned on.

Teeth grazed her clit and the tip of a tongue circled around and around.

“Open your eyes so that you know who’s going to make you come.”

He always knew what she was thinking. But how? How did he always fucking know? God she hated him for always knowing… always being in her head. The warmth built up to a blazing fire that couldn’t be denied. When she felt his fingers slip inside of her and hit the spot that only he had been able to access, her body jerked and she squirmed as she tried to escape his penetrative assault.

“I won’t say it again: open your fucking eyes.” He sunk his teeth into her labia as his fingers pumped in and out. Unclenching her lids, she looked him in the eyes, marshaling all her defenses. When she did, his eyes flared wide. There was an unspoken challenge in the depths of his emerald-green eyes and she fought with every fiber of her being not to come.

His rough, thick voice stroked her senses when he ordered her to do the very thing she was fighting against. “Come for me, Peach.”