Page 111 of Cruel Pleasures

Finally, after resisting for so long, he gives in too. He goes against whatever disciplined principles he has and lets the moment take over. Soon he’s pulling his dick out and his fingers fist into her hair. He slides his length past her lips, engulfed by the heat of her mouth.

The erotic sight sets off another surge of adrenaline through my body. Enough that I’m approaching the final stretch. A last burst of furious energy turns my movements into a blur. I’m pounding deep, my thrusts fast and rough.

“This ass is so tight, minx,” I grunt, sweating bullets. Every muscle in my body burns. “So unused, isn’t it? Not anymore.”

Her answer sounds muffled around Ryu’s cock. After first attempting to slide her head back and forth, she’s settled for propping it open for Ryu to fuck. His fist remains in her hair as he does, sliding himself in and out of her pouty, smart mouth.

Unable to hold on any longer, I hit my fill. The pressure that’s built up over the last hour explodes. I plant myself whole and come buried in her ass with a rumble from deep in my chest.

Ryu and Imani follow not a minute later. As my hips work in shallow thrusts, my orgasm buzzing through me, Ryu spills down her throat. She sags against the binds, the expression on her face more vacant than when she’d been high on spice.

Some combination of dreamy disbelief.

We untie her together in tense silence.

She can’t stand on her own. She slumps against Ryu as I slip her dress over her.

“Bedtime, bunny,” he says, stroking her cheek. “You have been sufficiently punished.”

He scoops her up into his arms to carry her. My hand clamps down on his shoulder to stop him.

“We shared her tonight. But tonight’s an exception,” I warn. “Save the moment in your memory banks. It’ll never happen again. She’s all mine.”

Ryu’s lip curls. “We’ll see about that, Hurst.”

26. Ryu

Strangelove - Black Math

Two men watch over one woman as she sleeps.

It’s a scenario I never anticipated I would be in. We’ve each taken over a different corner of the room. As Imani dozes peacefully in bed, Hurst and I have waged the next stage of our war—who will be the man that walks away as victor? Who will be the man who wins the prize we’ve fought for?

Hurst shoots daggers at me from where he’s pacing. I’m by the window, my arms crossed, as I track the time by how far along the sunrise is.

Remnants from last night linger. More than just the memory of Imani writhing and my fingers tweaking her engorged nipples. My mouth against hers, then the way she’d screamed in pleasure as Hurst fucked her. It’s the discarded dress on the floor and faint trace of perfume in the air.

It was unknown territory for everyone involved. A culmination of the obsession we had developed since this ordeal began.

Hurst stops his pacing at the foot of her bed. “You shouldn’t be involving yourself in matters that don’t pertain to you.”

“I was tasked to watch over her.”

“By the Hostess.”

“I’m failing to see your point.”

“The woman is insane, or have you not been paying attention?”

“That woman is your mother.”

His face darkens. “Which makes me the perfect person to assess her mental instability. She hired you as payback at me. No more, no less.”

“It sounds like a matter you should discuss with her,” I say. “I will continue to complete the task that I’ve been given.”

“You mean ensure Imani is destroyed. You do realize that’s where the task was headed, don’t you?”

A rare frisson of irritation runs through me. Hurst would be the one to bring it out of me. “I’ll handle the task how I see fit.”