Page 52 of Twisted Play (Cruel Games #1)

EVA

Cole and Tristan crowded me up the stairs after my last package arrived, hustling me out of the group of laughing teammates and hookups.

“Such a naughty little slut,” Cole said. “Taking advantage of my trust to buy thousands of dollars of toiletries.”

Fuck yes, I had, the asshole. “And pajamas,” I reminded him, holding up a black paper bag with a designer name emblazoned across the front.

“You won’t need them,” he snapped.

“Maybe you shouldn’t tell me I can do whatever the fuck I want if you don’t actually mean it,” I said then froze, aghast at my daring. Nothing they’d done to me in the last week had given me any indication they were interested in back talk.

I had spent a fortune, mostly because I was feeling bratty, because I needed to prove they couldn’t control me. Guilt set in.

Cole laughed quietly. “I’ll take it out on your hide,” he promised. “And then you can buy whatever the fuck you want. How about that? ”

I blinked, oddly reassured by the offer. Yes. Please punish me. I wanted nothing more than the oblivion of the pain Cole inflicted, of the pleasure Tristan wrested from me.

“How about next time, you don’t kidnap me, and then you won’t have to worry about how much I spend on skincare?” I snapped back, part of me terrified, a larger part of me determined to push Cole into doing what he wanted to anyway—hurt me, humiliate me, then fuck me in tandem with his best friend.

“Eva,” Tristan said against my cheek, “are you okay?”

“No thanks to you.” I was a goddamned mess, and I didn’t know what I wanted.

We reached the top of the stairs, and Tristan caged me against the wall. Why was that move so sexy? I wanted to melt against him, but if I did, I wouldn’t get what I wanted. And if they were going to subject me to this bullshit, the least I could get out of it was sweet oblivion.

“What’s wrong?” he asked me.

Everything. Nothing.

Instead of answering, I surged up to bite his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

“Kitten,” he gasped, his eyes brightening with pleasure. “Fucking hot. Is that what you want tonight? Rough?”

Before I could lick the blood from Tristan’s lip, Cole yanked me away and shoved me into his bedroom.

I hadn’t been able to really look around the last two times I was here, but now, it was neat as a pin, absolutely without personality. No photos. No artwork. Not even a hockey trophy or two, save for one wall filled with bookcases and books.

I would have walked over to inspect them, but one of the men shoved me face first onto the bed and knocked the wind out of me .

“Sparrow,” Cole purred, and the way he said it did something to me. Heat spiraled in my core. I liked it when he was mean.

Fucked up, Eva.

Fingers traced down my spine then reached around to unbutton my jeans.

“So fucking hot,” Tristan said as he bared my ass. “I think we should tie her up.”

What? Wait. If they tied me up—my thighs clenched, pressing together—if they tied me up, they’d be able to do whatever they wanted to me. And something in me really fucking wanted that.

“Go ahead, sparrow. Fight me,” Cole growled, one hand on my bare ass, the other holding my back down.

“Is that what you want?” I gasped. “For me to fight you so you have to tie me down before you beat and rape me?”

Cole’s dark chuckle ran through me like a live wire. “No, Eva. I want you to fight me because it lets you pretend you don’t want this. Because if you ever had to admit how much the way Tristan and I treat you turns you on, you’d shatter into a million pieces.”

Tristan’s hands ran over my bare ass. “You want this, whether you can admit it to yourself or not. You’re going to beg for our cocks by the time we’re done with you.”

“I love her like this,” Cole murmured. “On my bed, fully dressed, her ass hanging out, begging me to mark it up.”

Tristan took my hands and bound them together with a silk tie then yanked them over my head. He fumbled a bit with the knots, my anticipation growing with every moment he delayed the promised punishment. When he finally got the tie attached to the headboard, I tugged hard.

I couldn’t move .

My stomach dropped, but to my embarrassment, my pussy clenched. Did I like this?

Hands stroked down my back and then over the bare skin of my ass. When a finger slid between my thighs, I hid my face in the blankets, embarrassed at what they’d find.

“Taste this,” Cole said, and my imagination went wild with a vision of Tristan sucking on his fingers. One of them hummed, and my pussy clenched around nothing. Fuuuuuuuuccckkkkkk.

Warm hands slid down my legs, taking off my jeans then drawing my ankles apart and tying them to the bed, presumably with more of Cole’s silk ties.

I couldn’t imagine how they planned on getting the rest of my clothes off, but the sharp slap of a hand on my ass, the sting fading to a delicious warmth, distracted me from wondering.

“Oh,” I whispered as Cole warmed me up. Pressure grew in my core, and I gave in to the need to grind my pelvis into the bed, seeking friction against the bundle of nerves there.

Cole and Tristan might degrade me, but they’d never judge me.

In some ways, when they were torturing me, I was freer than I’d ever been before.

“Look at you,” Tristan breathed, “needy little thing.”

Every movement rubbed my nipples against the lace of my bra, pushed into the coverlet.

Cole continued to pepper my ass with slaps while Tristan slid his finger between my legs to trace up and down my slit. “You’re so wet,” he whispered reverently.

“Do you know what you did to earn your punishment tonight?” Cole asked me.

I whined as Tristan traced my entrance, teasing me rather than filling me like I wanted. “Because I spent your money?”

He laughed. “Stupid fucking slut. You think spending my money bothers me? Fuck, I’ll give you anything you want if you get on your knees and ask me for it like the gorgeous little cocksucker you are.”

And I wanted to. Fuck, I wanted to get on my knees for him, and I didn’t understand why.

“No,” he continued. “You’re being punished for fighting with us about coming to the house tonight.

And then I’m going to punish you for being such a distracting little snack during practice.

I’m going to punish you for making me force you to buy what you need for a goddamned sleepover instead of being a good girl and doing what I told you to do in the first place. ”

My heart thumped once, twice, and then started up again, faster than before.

“When I tell you to do something,” he spanked me hard, “I expect you to do it without argument.” He spanked me again and again, until I was whining and writhing in my bonds, the pain transforming into need. “Do you understand?”

I nodded against the blanket.

“Use your words. When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I breathed. “I understand.”

Hot hands palmed the globes of my ass, their touch burning as much as it soothed. “Is there anything else you need for tonight?”

The abrupt change in conversation made me slow to respond, and Cole spanked me again while I thought.

“Wait! I’m thinking,” I gasped.

Tristan continued to run his fingers through my folds, occasionally hitting my clit, never dipping into me like I wanted, making it impossible for me to formulate a thought.

“I don’t have anything to wear tomorrow,” I gasped .

“Great. We’ll take you shopping,” Cole said.

“I meant to the game.” I moaned as Tristan slipped a finger inside me, gently playing with me, never giving me the rough fucking and the feeling of fullness I wanted.

“Same answer,” Cole said. His hands left my ass for a moment. “Get my belt out of the top drawer?”

No.

No!

I shrieked and began to struggle. Spanking me was one thing. Hitting me with a belt was quite another. “No!”

Cole smacked me hard enough on the inside of my thigh that it startled me out of my panic. “If you continue to make noise, I’m going to cut off that scrap of lace you’re pretending are panties and gag you with it.”

He wouldn’t.

He absolutely would.

I bit my lip, and Tristan rewarded my acquiescence with a second finger inside me. Oh, fuck, that felt good.

“Yes, please,” I moaned, losing myself in the pleasure.

Tristan’s dark chuckle pulled me back to the present.

“Belt, asshole,” Cole snarled.

Tristan pulled his fingers out of me with a wet squelch, and a moment later, leather snapped through the air. I stiffened, as though I stood a chance of protecting myself from the cruel pain.

“Just two, sweetheart,” Cole murmured. “One because I can, because you are so fucking gorgeous laid out there for me like a present to unwrap, and another because next time I fucking tell you to do something, I expect you to do it. Can you count for me?”

He wanted me to participate in this travesty?

I shook my head, and he just hummed. Thwap! I shrieked as the belt hit my warmed skin, agony slicing deep inside me. Then the pain morphed into transcendent pleasure, and I whined as I ground my clit against the bed, seeking release.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he murmured. “Just one more.”

The pain of the second crack of the belt jolted a sob out of me, only for fingers to slip through my folds again, drawing me higher and higher, rather than allowing me to sink into the pain.

Cole and Tristan released my ankles then yanked down my panties. One of them settled between my legs. “Fuck yes,” Tristan said, his five o’clock shadow scraping the sensitive skin of the insides of my thighs.

And then, I couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but accept the endless pleasure as he ate me out like I was his last meal. Fingers dug into the stripes the belt left on my ass, making me scream as pain and pleasure intermingled.

Cold metal scraped up my back, along with the snick, snick of scissors. “What the fuck? I need those!”

“We’re going shopping tomorrow,” Cole murmured.

“What am I going to wear to the—?” A hot tongue teasing at my entrance cut off my protest, licking in and out of me until I couldn’t hold on to a single fucking thought.

“Less arguing, more letting us play with our toy,” Cole purred before tugging my t-shirt off, then cutting through the straps of my bra and tugging that off too.

Oh my god. I was naked and tied up, Tristan’s arms wrapped around my hips, with Cole still stroking his hands over my ass. Tristan continued to lick at me, sending sparks of pleasure through me, an inferno of desire I loved and hated in equal measure.

“Flip her over,” Cole ordered .

Tristan pulled away, and I followed him with my hips, to his laughing amusement. He smacked my ass once then swore softly. “I could watch that all day.”

“We could take turns spanking her all night, just to watch that luscious ass jiggle and turn red.”

“No, please,” I whined as they maneuvered me to lie on my back, their strong arms lifting and turning me, not once hesitating or shaking with weakness. When was the last time a partner made me feel so fucking safe in their arms? Never.

The burn on my ass ached as I pressed into the blanket, but it felt good, like every tiny agony was only adding to the impatient pressure building inside me.

Tristan gently pushed my thighs apart and knelt between them. He stared at my pussy, wet and swollen and needy, wonder in his eyes. “Get out of your head, kitten.”

Cole slapped the inside of my thigh. “The only thing you should be thinking about is how to please us.”

I tugged on my wrists. “Hard to do when I’m tied up.”

Tristan lapped at my slit, then looked up. “Naw. This gorgeous cunt, all pink and pretty, open and soaked for us, pleases me immensely.”

Cole leaned over to lie beside me, idly playing with my breasts. He traced his fingers over my sides and up my curves.

“I love that these spill out of my hands,” he said, leaning in to worry my nipple with his teeth. The sharp sting set off a shower of sparks from his mouth straight to my clit, where Tristan was teasing me with the tip of his tongue.

Cole kneaded my breasts, alternating between sucking and pinching them, his hands squeezing the flesh in a way that made me want to hide my face in embarrassment.

Other men had found my large breasts embarrassing, something to hide, but these men—he sucked a nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue and then sucking it until I cried out from the hurt. “Please!”

“Please what, sweetheart?” Cole asked me, his mouth working over my chest before latching on to my other nipple.

Tristan pushed his shoulders forward, spreading my thighs further, then lifted my legs over his shoulders, the better to devour me with.

“Such a slut for us,” Cole murmured against my skin. “You might pretend you hate this, but your sopping pussy tells me otherwise.”

“I need—I need—please,” I begged.

They didn’t speed up the pace of their ministrations, playing with me rather than driving me forward.

“Let me come,” I breathed. “Please.”

“What do you want us to do, love?” Tristan asked against my inner thigh.

I bucked my hips against his face. “Let me come.”

“How, sparrow?”

“Fuck me with your fingers, Tristan, please!” He did as I asked. “Suck on my clit,” I commanded. He did.

The pressure grew, and I moaned, writhing, trying to press my center against his face. Oh, god, this felt good, the two men playing with me, unable to do anything but allow them, freed from the obligation to protest.

Tristan drew away, leaving a wet, filthy mess between my thighs.

“Come back,” I whined before I could stop myself.