Page 64 of Cracked Ice (The F*cked Up Players #1)

twenty-seven

“ I —uh . . .” I dart to look at Trevor, but he doesn’t appear half as shocked by Lucien’s request as I am. “But . . .”

“My game isn’t over yet, so if you don’t want to play anymore, you’d better tell me right now because I’m nowhere near done with you.” His stare hardens. “Not by a fucking long shot.”

I should say no, respectfully decline or something? Surely, I shouldn’t let bygones be bygones and ride his dick anyway after all this should I?

But you want to. You really really want to ride his dick .

And isn’t that like the height of feminist goals everywhere? It’s my sacred duty to take back my power and suck his dick.

“Is he just going to watch?” I eye Trevor warily, a little unnerved by the smoldering look on his face. His honey roasted skin, caramel voice, and smooth demeanor make my mouth water. The man’s a walking snack.

“No. He’s going to help.” Lucien tilts his head at the captain and throws him a cocky smirk.

Trevor pulls his shirt off, revealing a body that could only be cooked up by my imagination or a science lab.

He takes a step closer to me . . . and then another .

. . and another, until he’s standing right over me.

My chest heaves as he gets closer and the heat that started in my cheeks runs rampant across every surface, a phenomenon that Lucien doesn’t miss.

Lucien bites his lip at my reaction and groans deeply in that way that at least suggests he’s enjoying it, but I feel terrible, guilty even, like I’m betraying him or something equally as shameful even as he makes more demands for us to keep going.

Is it betrayal, if this is what he wants? Is it what I want?

“Can I?” Trevor asks as he stands before me, but I don’t know what he’s asking, I’m too busy staring at his hard chest.

“Say yes, Princess,” Lucien murmurs.

“Yes, to what?” I pant, shifting my gaze between the two guys who look set to take turns wrecking me.

“To more ,” Lucien supplies.

I tilt my head up to look Trevor in the eyes. They’re kind, probably the nicest I’ve ever encountered. They’re filled with vulnerability and understanding, traits I don’t typically find back home.

I take it as a sign.

Slowly I nod, granting him permission.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, reaching out to skate his fingers over my shoulder, featherlight at first as I suck in a shaky breath. He traces around my collarbone to the other side, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

I try to clear my throat to speak, but it does little to prevent the scratched tone of my response.

“Thank you.”

His fingers grip a little tighter as he trails behind me, pressing his bare chest to my back, his dick hard and already nudging against me.

I know I said I wanted to lose my virginity tonight, but never in a million years did I consider I could get two for the price of one.

Talk about a deal.

“You don’t have to be scared.” Trevor rubs my shoulders, urging me to loosen up. “Just relax. I’m going to help you.”

“How?” I rasp, leaning into him for some kind of support, emotional or otherwise. Lucien stares at us while a million other questions flit through my mind.

“This is a trick, right? He’s testing me again, isn’t he?” I murmur behind me so that only Trevor can hear. “This is all some sort of fucked up trust exercise, isn’t it? You can tell me. I’m right, aren’t I?”

Trevor chuckles softly against my ear.

“No, pretty sure he’s past testing you at this point,” he supplies with the audacity to sound amused.

“Oh, really? And what makes you think that?”

“Because you’re here with me.”

I struggle to determine his meaning, but it’s unimportant wording when he practically sings against my skin.

“Now relax and listen to my voice. I’m going to tell you exactly what to do,” he whispers, his breath ghosting my heated flesh, his lips just barely grazing the sensitive parts of my exposed throat and shoulder.

“And if you’re really good, Sydney, you will be rewarded. I promise.”

I whimper in response, loving the sound of being rewarded and appreciating the commitment to pleasure. Trevor’s hands rake over the sequin material of my dress, shifting new patterns into the ensemble before resting on my hips and turning me to face Lucien.

“Okay then.” I nod; my eyes trained on Lucien. “Tell me what to do.”

“Get on your knees.” Trevor repeats Lucien’s words, though without the authoritative command I’ve come to love from Lucien.

“What? Right here?” I ask. I’m at least a few feet away from where Lucien sits on the bench, too far away to reach.

To touch.

To please.

He nods. “Crawl to him.”

I hear the command, but I don’t obey on instinct the way I do for Lucien. Is this really okay? Should I be doing this? I barely know Trevor. I barely know either of them . . . and that’s what makes this all so thrilling.

But then again, my time for thrills has passed and it’s already so late . . .

“I’m waiting,” Lucien presses, pointing his finger at my face then slowly dragging it down my body until it points to the floor. His gesture, as clear as his earlier command: knees.

Growing up, I’ve bowed to know one, haven’t had to. In all my life, I’ve never even bothered to humble myself before anyone, let alone debase myself for them. Seduce, yes. Meaninglessly flirt, sure. But never more than that.

But now, he’s asking—no, telling —me to get down on my knees in service to him; in front of Trevor.

It’s his captain’s presence that drives me to hesitate, but it also spurs me on. My knees shake, not fearful, but instinctive. They want to bend; to drop and feel the wood press into bone but I can feel Trevor’s eyes. I can smell his scent.

He smells delicious, like fresh nectarines and cinnamon. Everything about him screams he’s a good person . An angel amongst devils like us. A sweet soul tied to bitter creatures.

“You can do it,” Trevor murmurs, one hand stroking my arm softly as he assures me it is okay.

His other hand rests at the hem of my dress, his finger drawing slow circles along my thighs.

“Try not to think so hard about it and just let go. We both need this.” Is he talking about him and Lucien needing this or is he saying he and I need this?

I’m inclined to believe it’s the latter, but more likely that’s the delusion talking.

I’m a toy tonight. Entertainment. A game. Maybe that’s enough. This doesn’t end well for me no matter what part I play, so I might as well play the one that gets me orgasms.

Heeding his words, I allow myself to bend, my body and my rules, because he made Lucien feel good, and if I follow his lead, I’ll make Lucien feel good too. Better than good, better than even Trevor.

My bare knees dig into the wooden floor, palms flat to the ground, as one after the other, I crawl toward Lucien.

My hips sway with the motion, hiking my dress up my thighs the more I move, sliding against my heated skin and exposing me to the cool air.

I can sense Trevor’s eyes behind me as vividly as I can Lucien’s in front of me.

Double the attention.

Triple the intensity.

I’m fucking drowning in it. I make sure to hold my head high while I crawl, peering up at Lucien beneath long lashes that break up the sheer force of his gaze, his potent eyes already on me and predatory.

When I reach the space between his legs, I stop, sitting up and resting on my calves.

But he’s not nearly as relaxed as he was with Trevor.

He’s a smoldering ball of intensity. Even more so when he slowly draws something from behind his back.

It’s the silver glint that catches my eyes first as he twirls that damn knife around his finger.

His focus is on me and the fire in his gaze burns.

It’s one thing if he’s intent on hurting me, but I don’t think I could stand it if he hurt himself. His lips curl into a grin as if he can tell what I’m thinking.

“Am I making you nervous?” he teases.

“Yes,” I answer on a breath.

“Why?”

His gaze dips to my thighs and I swear the knife spins faster.

I lick my lips; my fingers twisted in my lap as I become aware of the perilousness around me.

“You’re not being careful.”

He hums, savoring my growing fear.

“Are you scared?” he croons. His head cocks to the side and his hair flops in his eyes like it so frequently does when he grants me that curious look.

I itch to run my fingers through it. To pull on it again.

But I don’t dare move from my spot. I keep my focus on the blade spinning round and around and around.

“I’m terrified,” I whisper.

A groan stirs from within his chest, bubbling inside as his breath blows out, as if he’s expelling smoke. The air from it billows over my skin, rustling the wisps of hair along my forehead. It’s a contented sigh. A gesture that tells me he wants me to know how much my fear turns him on.

“Oh, Princess, that’s so fucking good. I want this night to haunt you for eternity.

I want it to be celebrated as the night you willingly gave yourself over to the devil.

” His deep chuckle is soft and breathy but promises so much pain.

“I can’t wait to destroy you with my cock.

Your screams of pain and pleasure will be so beautiful. It’s going to be epic .”

The knife stops spinning and he tightens his grip around the hilt, perching his elbows further on his knees as he leans in.

A shiver runs down my spine, but I remain seated at his feet.

He brings the dagger up to my face, tucking it under my chin and pressing close until I’m forced to sit up again.

“Spread your legs for me.”

My body reacts before my mind can even process the command, obeying his call and giving in to selfish desires.

“Oh, Princess, I know you’re more flexible than that.” He taps my thigh with the tip of his boot before settling his own legs apart. “More. Spread those fucking legs for me so I can see if your pretty cunt is weeping for me already.”