Page 40 of Twisted Play (Cruel Games #1)

EVA

I shuddered, waiting for the impact of Cole’s belt against my ass, craving the absolution that would come with submitting to his violence.

When the crack of leather didn’t arrive, I looked over my shoulder. Tristan and Cole stood behind me, shoulder to shoulder, two men so handsome they took my breath away, their eyes hooded, and their pupils blown with need, despite the furious set of their jaws.

“Are you on birth control?” Cole asked me.

“What? Use a fucking condom!” I snapped, but when I tried to stand, a strong hand shoved me back to the surface of the desk. One of them caught my hands and held them behind my back.

I kicked out, only to find a hard body pressed between my legs, rendering me immobile.

“I haven’t fucked anyone else since that night,” Cole murmured. “And Tristan hasn’t fucked anyone this semester because he’s had hearts in his eyes for you. We’re both negative. ”

“Please don’t do this,” I begged him, my control finally slipping. “Please.”

A hand stroked up my side and then curled around my throat while another one caressed my ass. It delved between my legs, tracing up and down my slit. “Are you on birth control?” Cole asked again.

“Yes,” I choked out.

“Have you been tested recently?”

“I haven’t slept with anyone but you since—” A sob exploded out of my throat. “Since before my surgery.”

A finger stroked over my clit, and I whimpered. Then, a hot, thick cock pressed against me. Tristan released my arms and moved to my side, running his fingers through my hair as Cole slid deep inside me in one, confident stroke.

Tristan’s anguished face destroyed me. A sob tore out of my chest as he watched his best friend fucking his girl, the sounds of our flesh slapping together obscene in the silent locker room.

Every time Cole plunged into me, stretching me, filling me, I found it a little harder to pretend this didn’t feel good, like this wasn’t the best fuck of my life, like every single nerve ending wasn’t screaming for completion.

“Tris—”

“Not a word, slut,” Cole growled at me, never stopping the steady strokes that emptied every thought from my head outside of the bliss from his cock scraping my insides. He lifted my knee up to the desk, changing the angle, and I saw stars. Fuck.

“Please,” I whispered, not sure what I was begging for.

“Please what, slut? Please keep fucking you? Please let Tristan fuck you? Please don’t tell Coach you’re spying on the team for the bratva? ”

Tristan cupped my face, rough fingers sliding across my skin as his best friend fucked me.

Cole played with my breasts, making it hard for me to get the words out, but I had to fucking let Tristan know. “You’re a good man, Tristan,” I said finally. “You deserve better than me.”

“Yes, he does,” Cole muttered, and shame suffused every inch of my body.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, lowering my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see the hurt on Tristan’s face. “But if I didn’t?—”

Cole snapped his hips, and I couldn’t finish the goddamned thought as his cock hit that perfect spot and bliss ricocheted through me.

Tristan’s eyes left mine to look at Cole’s. “So you’re fucking her?”

“I’m keeping her secret in exchange for her obedience,” he said.

“And if I don’t feel like keeping her secret?”

“Tristan, no,” I begged. “You can’t tell, please.”

Cole slowed his fucking, resting deep inside me. I was full and stretched and god, it felt so fucking good.

“Make him the same offer you made me, sparrow.”

No. I liked Tristan. I liked the way he treated me.

I liked what a good man he was. I liked—it didn’t matter.

I didn’t deserve him. I deserved this, to be treated like a whore, to be used and discarded, because that’s what happened to women like me who lied and cheated and ruined everything they touched.

“I’ll do anything,” I whispered, closing my eyes, unable to stem the tide of tears that streamed down my face as my heart broke. “Please don’t tell. I’ll lose everything.”

Cole twitched his hips, and I moaned as pleasure coursed through me .

Tristan pressed his lips together in a grim line. “Is this what you want? Is this what you think you deserve?”

What I want? No. What I deserve? Yes.

Cole spanked my ass and moaned, “Fuck yes, sparrow. Clench that pussy and strangle my cock.”

This was exactly what I deserved, for being a liar and a spy and for making Tristan think there was a possibility there could be anything between us.

“I would have given you everything,” Tristan growled. “I wanted to treat you like a princess because I thought that’s how you deserved to be treated. And every time I did, it was like no one had ever done that for you before.”

“Because that’s not what she deserves,” Cole ground out. “This is.”

Tristan’s face tightened in anger, and he gripped my cheeks, pressing his fingers into my face. “Is that true, kitten? Blackmail, punishment, rough sex—is that what you deserve?”

I sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Tristan.” Lies upon lies upon lies—a hole so deep, I’d never dig my way out. Yes, I deserved whatever these boys were going to do to me, and I’d take it if it meant keeping my father alive. If it kept Jedediah Carter away from us and saving my own life.

Tristan released my face and stood, the anger on his face transforming to blankness, and somehow, that hurt more than anything else.

“Yeah, okay, kitten. I’ll give you what you deserve.”

He shoved his sweatpants down over his hips, revealing the cock I’d only felt through layers of fabric at this point. It was girthy and veiny, with two rows of silver studs up the bottom.

Tristan smacked me in the cheek with it, the bead of precum oozing out the trip leaving a smear on my face .

“A whore for Cole, and now, a whore for me. Open your mouth.”

My tears never stopped, but I turned my face away from him, refusing this final humiliation. Cole spanked me, and while I whimpered, I kept my mouth shut.

Tristan reached underneath me to cup my breasts. “I’d have fucking worshipped you, Eva,” he rasped. “Made you come until you begged me to stop. Invited you to sit on my face and never fucking leave.”

He kneaded my breasts.

“Slap one,” Cole murmured. “She likes it.”

Tristan did. When my mouth opened with surprise at the pain, he shoved his cock between my lips, his piercings clacking as they hit my teeth.

I opened my mouth wider, terrified he’d chip a tooth, and Cole rewarded me with a swipe of his fingers around my clit.

“That’s it, sparrow. Show us how much you like this.”

“I don’t,” I tried to protest, but Tristan’s cock muffled my cries. He wrapped his hand around my hair and held my head where he wanted it, so he could fuck my mouth while Cole pounded my pussy.

Together, they set a brutal rhythm, pushing and pulling me without regard to my comfort, and somehow, being used and degraded turned me on even more.

I couldn’t think, couldn’t protest. All I could do was take what they gave me as Cole spanked me over and over, as Tristan cut off my air supply with his cock, as pleasure wound through my body, dark and insidious.

I closed my eyes, losing myself in the rhythm of their strokes, reduced to a messy cacophony of need and humiliation until a finger stroked my clit again.

“Come for me, sparrow,” Cole said .

I whined, and he slid his fingers between us to massage my clit.

The stimulation sent me screaming over the edge, my voice muffled by the cock down my throat.

Bliss exploded outward from my core, euphoric shrapnel obliterating my sense of self as pleasure overwhelmed me.

Tristan pulled out of me, and hot liquid splashed over my waiting face as he painted me with his release.

Cole’s rhythm turned ragged, and he clutched my hips, his fingertips digging into me as he fucked me stupid. Then he pinched my clit, and Jesus Christ, the pain made me explode again, collapsing forward as he shouted my name, filling me with his cum.

When he released me as he pulled out, I collapsed onto the desk, dropping my face to my arms, not caring that I was smearing Tristan’s cum all over me. I sagged, barely able to stand, my legs shaking, and cried and cried and cried some more.

“Shit,” Cole said from behind me. “What now?”

“We take care of her, asshole.”

Firm hands lifted me, and then a wet towel gently scrubbed at my face. I ignored them, letting them move me like a doll as I softly sobbed, unable to reconcile the bliss with my misery or force my limbs to move.

Hands wrapped around me, lifting me, enveloping me in warm fabric. It smelled good, comforting, and I let my head loll against the strong chest that held me.

“Fuck, what’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know!”

I snuggled deeper into one of their arms, refusing to open my eyes, refusing to look at the men who’d treated me exactly the way I deserved to be treated.

“Shit!”