Page 9 of Twisted Play

He didn’t help me, just moved his hands to his thighs and watched.

Hot tears pressed behind my eyes. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry, though. I’d always hatedgiving blow jobs—the way men grabbed my hair and used my mouth while acting like they were doing me a favor, the way they never reciprocated, the way they made me feel worthless.

The quiet, “That’s a good girl,” that escaped Coach was like warm honey pouring through the cracks in my chest. My whole body lit up at the praise, even as I hated myself for it.

“Don’t stop just because I praised you,” he growled.

Hurriedly, I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, the heat of his skin scalding my fingertips. I didn’t expect the way his breath hitched when I touched him, or how that tiny loss of control from such a powerful, brutal man would unfurl a fierce sense of power in my chest.

“There you go,” he said as I reached into the slit of his boxers and pulled him out, and fuck me, I practically glowed with pleasure. What the fuck was wrong with me?

Coach’s breath stuttered as I wrapped my fingers around him. His cock mesmerized me—thick, hot, veiny, and already dripping precum.

“Do you know what to do?” Cruel amusement tinged his voice.

“Can’t be that hard,” I snarked as I ran my thumb over the tip, smearing the evidence of his desire over his skin. His thighs trembled under my touch, and I marveled at the way his breath caught when I squeezed him.

I wanted to do a good job, and I didn’t know what to do with that thought as I humiliated myself in the coach’s office. I shouldn’t care about pleasing him. This was just a means to an end—the job I needed to save my father.

Fuck, the urge to bend my head and taste him was so fucking overwhelming. His cock jerked in my grip, and a primal pride blossomed in my chest at my power over him.Even on my knees, even debasing myself, I could make this massive, terrifying man react to me.

“Spit on me,” he commanded softly. When I didn’t react, he reached around to tug on my ponytail, hard enough to let me know he could make it hurt if he wanted to. The sheer size of him overwhelmed me, making me feel protected and trapped at the same time. “I told you to do something,malyshka.”

Wetness pooled between my legs, the command in his voice as arousing as it was upsetting. The overwhelming desire to let go of my fierce control, my need to do everything right and be perfect in every way, to give into his commands, terrified me more than his brutality ever could.

I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t crave his praise like a flower to the sun. But when his fingers tightened in my hair, bringing a flash of hot tears to my eyes, need coiled tight and hot in my belly.

“I said spit,” he growled.

To my shock, I did exactly as he commanded, watching my spit run down his shaft, mesmerized. “Move your hand up and down,” he instructed me, as if he thought I’d never done this before. I flushed with embarrassment and then pulled myself together. Why should I care if he knew I was inexperienced?

I slid my fingers over his cock, shocked to find my nipples hardening under the cheap lace of my bra, the scratchy fabric tightening with every breath.

“I’m going to tell you what to do, Eva, and you’re going to do exactly as I command. Do you understand?”

When I didn’t answer, he yanked my head up so I could look at him. His dark, hooded gaze burned into mine, and I couldn’t look away. “Do you understand?”

I gave in.

“Yes, sir,” I whispered, pumping my hand up and down as I ceded control and surrendered to the inevitable. To him.

His grip in my hair loosened. “Good girl.” His praise rushed through my veins like a drug, and instantly, I craved more. “Now, lick the tip.”

As if in a trance, I did exactly as he asked, bending my head and darting my tongue out to catch the bead of precum gathering there. The salty taste exploded on my tongue, and I moaned before I could stop myself, heat flooding my pussy.

He groaned, the sound raw and desperate. I did that. I made him lose control. I could do this. I could do this, I could get him off, I could get this job, and I could save my father. All I had to do was submit.

I lapped at him, savoring his taste and the way his thighs trembled under my palms. My too tight skirt dug into my thighs as I shifted, trying to relieve the ache between my legs.

“That’s it, baby girl. You’re so good at this.”

His praise fucking unlocked a longing inside me. I wanted more of it. I wanted him to love how I blew him. I wanted him to want more. I wanted him to want me until his want drowned out my self-hatred.

Fucked up, Eva.

When I closed my lips around the tip, his hands clenched into fists, but he didn’t move, letting me take the lead. That tiny concession to my control made me bold. I sucked harder, and the broken sound that escaped him sent aching desire rushing to my clit.

I could own this moment. I could make him fall apart like he was making me fall apart.