Page 66 of Cracked Ice (The F*cked Up Players #1)

twenty-eight

P erfect tits hang freely between my legs like fresh apples ready to be plucked from the most forbidden tree.

But it’s like I told her. They call me Morningstar for a reason, so I will have this girl no matter how sinful the act.

I’ll have her screaming my name and roaring obscenities all night long.

Tonight will be a night of transformation, where my little stalker transcends—and accepts—her destiny with me.

Where she’ll break the mold from the perfect picture of innocence into a dirty little slut just for me.

I even get a two-fer since, apparently, Trevor is in the mood to play today. It’s been forever since he’s let me play with him, but judging by the look of withdrawal on his face right now, he needs this too much to stop.

He needed this win tonight and I blew it. Fucking me when he’s angry is a common enough occurrence, but even more so when’s he’s angry with himself and can’t handle the stress load.

He’s right though, I knew how badly he wanted to win this game, and I did kind of fuck him over on that one, so I’m more than happy to make it up to him now.

More than anyone else, he’s stuck up for me.

Stuck by me. And he’s the only one who I’ve actually talked in detail with about my family.

All but the last detail of course but, the point is, I trust him enough to share in this little experiment.

He wouldn’t be here otherwise.

Actually, this works out better because he’ll help me determine if keeping her is even possible.

To see if she’ll live up to the fantasy I’ve built up in my head, or crumble like all the rest. For so long Trevor was the only one left standing, the one I thought would be there with me to the end, but he’s made his choice time and time again, and it’s never me.

Friends is the extent of our relationship, but this is good too.

Rare, but fucking good all the same. I guess now it’s Sydney’s turn.

Will she play so nicely with me or will she cut and run too?

Something tells me she’ll exceed all my expectations and more.

“Open your mouth.” I can barely contain the shaking in my voice, anticipation building up to near toxic levels when she obeys without question, her mouth opening wide to receive whatever I’m willing to give.

My cock strains in my pants at the sight, but I refuse to free it again.

With her tongue extended, pink and wet, chest panting like a trained pet awaiting its treat—not even my pup has ever managed to look so sweet and devious at the same fucking time.

She’s a liar and a stalker, I know, but she’s also a doe-eyed princess that could topple countries without ever knowing they were waging wars in her name.

“That’s it, baby. Nice and wide for me,” I murmur, sticking two fingers in.

The second her lips wrap around my digits I almost lose what’s left of my mind.

Fuck the plans. Fuck control and breathing exercises.

Give me chaos, carnage, and ecstasy. Give me her decadent mouth and timid tongue to use and fuck and .

. . Sydney makes a sound in her throat that brings me back to reality.

I pull my fingers back before pushing in again.

Making sure I let her suck and reacclimate before shoving farther inside, slower this time.

I test her gag reflex, being nice enough to give her practice so that I don’t gag her on my length the first time she ever sucks cock.

I got carried away before—and it’s likely to happen again—but just this once, I can go slow and steady for her .

Dead though they may be, my parents did raise me to have manners.

I can be sweet too.

Sometimes.

Sydney moans and that sweetness turns tart.

“Who knew the best way to fix that smart mouth of yours was to make you open it more?” I tease when she starts taking initiative, sucking me all the way down her throat until I’m tickling her tonsils.

This time, rather than gagging, she glowers at me. And, fuck, I had no idea eyes so cold could burn so hot.

“Ah-ah-ah,” I chide. “Don’t look at me like that. Wouldn’t want you getting lockjaw when I shove my cock past those full lips and so far down your tight throat, you’re swallowing me whole.”

She inhales sharply through her nose. A serrated gasp that makes me wish I did have my cock inside her.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” I coo. “I’m finally getting you all to myself . . . well, not all to myself, but double the trouble, double the fun, am I right?”

I look over her head and wink at Trevor, who bites his lower lip, looking as enraptured as I am with how her throat bobs to swallow. Though he patiently awaits his turn.

Such a good pup.

I grin down at Sydney and her forehead crinkles in that way I fucking love.

“Oh, don’t make that face. You can’t be mad at me, Princess. It’d break my heart.”

She loses her focus and gags, before yanking her head away to speak. “Are you sure you have one?”

I grin, gripping the base of her skull and pulling her head back by her hair. She hisses, but her eyes remain trained on me like the good girl she actually is—sharp tongue aside—while her soft palms hold onto my thighs like they’re her lifeline.

“Sure, I do. It grew three whole sizes, the moment I met you.”

The corner of her mouth twitches before she’s biting her lip. But her mouth reopens on a scream when I pull her hair again and shove my fingers back in.

“Now suck.”

Her lips close over my fingers again and I let out a long groaning breath that feels more stolen than vital.

Who knew my snarky Little Stalker Princess, who teases and schemes, would be so good at following directions?

She’s pure sugar and sin staring up at me like that, her hair mussed, and her lip gloss smudged.

I’ve never seen someone so perfect willing to break for me, shatter for me. I’m fucking addicted.

My eyes cast to Trevor, who’s barely keeping it together himself.

One hand resting on the peak of Sydney’s ass while the other rubs absentmindedly over the bulge in his jeans that I’ve yet to permit him to free.

He won’t do it of his own accord because then he’d have to take responsibility for his own actions and there’s no way he’s doing that.

I tip my chin toward him, signaling that it’s okay to touch himself. Similar to Sydney, he needs the instruction to keep going, to get out of his head and in this moment. His chest deflates with relief as he unbuttons his pants, keeping them on as he slips a hand inside.

I lean forward, whispering to Sydney. “Is this how you thought your night would go? Did you imagine you’d be kneeling before me while I train your throat to take my cock?”

Her soft whimpers spur me on further as she shakes her head, her hair falling loose as she lies through my fingers.

“You naughty girl, I bet you did,” I taunt. “I bet you hoped and prayed and wished upon a star I’d fuck this throat.”

She growls in protest, her teeth scraping against my fingertips. An adorable threat.

I tsk. “Let’s not do that. There’s punishment for biting, and you know who those are for, don’t you?” She reluctantly nods. “Good. That’s my girl. You see? I know how bad you want to be good for me.”

I can feel her moan, and it’s another tear in my fragile resolve.

Not only that, it’s the way she looks at me.

She looks at me like I look at her . That same little twitch in our eyes that makes us a little different from everyone else.

It’s not psychosis, it’s acceptance. A shared consciousness that allows us to accept the current truths, to accept what is .

What is abnormal.

What is broken.

What is fucked .

And as fucked up as it is, I’m so goddamn grateful I found her, because I don’t think I have it in me to ever let her go.

I want to keep her forever . . .

and ever . . .

and ever.

My middle and ring finger strokes a line over her tongue, deeper and deeper down her throat, the heel of my palm anchored on her chin and my free hand holding the back of her head.

She groans, letting her warm saliva gather and spill down the sides of her glossy pink lips as I thrust. I want that pink shimmery shit coating my cock by the end of the night.

“Stick your tongue out more and relax your throat, that way you won’t gag so much,” Trevor murmurs in her ear, coaxing her with his saccharine voice and tender touches.

She should relish those touches, because I won’t be near as gentle with her when the frays of my control finally slip.

I’ll be the one giving her what she really needs.

“I don’t know, I kinda like the sound of her gagging on my fingers,” I muse, driving in and out, compelling her to make those noises again.

“I have to teach her the right way, or she won’t just gag when you let her suck your cock, she’ll choke,” Trevor insists, brushing the loose tendrils of Sydney’s hair away from her face, then landing a chaste kiss to her temple.

Choke , not die.

I roll my eyes, and he glowers over her shoulder at me.

“Patience, Lucien,” he soothes, stroking a hand down Sydney’s chest. “You’ll break her if you’re not careful, and then all of our fun would be ruined, you don’t want that to happen, do you?”

It’s a bit of a trick question. On the one hand . . .

Sydney’s eyes bug out and she tries to talk around my fingers. I laugh.

Trevor’s only teasing, but he and I both know he’s not entirely off base. It’s why I’m glad he’s here, I’d lack all restraint if he wasn’t.

A shiver ratchets up Sydney’s back and she moans around my fingers when he cups her tits, pinching her nipples between his fingers.

She’s loving every bit of this, and I can tell that at least part of her is glad Trevor stayed.

She squirms at the reaction he’s soliciting, her ass wriggling against him as he kneels behind her.

The beautiful panic in her dilated pupils, where fear and sadness fight to the death in her irises, is a sight to behold.