Page 18 of Wanna Play A Game?

I feel him staring at me, and I flush.

“You won’t beg for your life, but you will beg for this?”

I press my lips together, angry that it slipped out. Angry that he’s watching me with such a knowing silence. I glare at his mask. It’s dirty, and there’s a small crack on the right side.

The man says softly, “I said I’m not going to hurt you right now. I promise. I know you don’t know me, but I’m a man of my word.”

Yeah, right.

He just sits there. It’s very clear he won’t give me a choice. And that makes me angry. Him being so soft is almost worse than if he came in here and hurt me. What is he doing?

The man leans toward me again with the brush. I jerk my head away.

“Fight me on this, and there will be consequences. They won’t hurt, but I guarantee you won’t like them.” His voice is still soft, but there’s a hint of excitement in it.

I can’t. I can’t give him this. He’s trying to get his foot in the door. If I submit now, it’ll be easier and easier for him to tell me what to do.

He shrugs. “Okay then.” He gently palms my forehead back so my head is cranked back and drags a thumb down my eye. I instinctively shut them. He pins my eye closed by my eyelashes. I try to open it, but he increases the pressure. I stop, not wanting him to poke my eye.

“Good girl.”

I jump when he lets go of my eyes and gently applies the makeup. My breathing is heavy. With my other eye, I watch his other hand gripping the palette. For the first time, I notice a simple smiley face tattooed on it. His hands are big, with veins running through them.

The man continues his process for a while. Neither of us speaks. He even applies fake lashes and lipstick.

When he’s done, he leans back. My cheeks flush, and I feel ashamed, like a pig dressed up for slaughter.

“Damn,” the man breathes.

Anger rolls through me.

“Now, for your punishment.”

He leans in and runs both hands up my thighs. I stiffen. What the hell is he doing?

He slides his hands back down, then up again, this time tracing along the insides of my thighs, getting dangerously close to my pussy. His next swipe up, he brushes my clit.

“What are you doing?” I can’t stop my voice from the shrill rise of panic.

“Punishing you.” He continues and touches my pussy again.

“Stop,” I whisper. The man’s presence is powerful and heady, and I hate him.

He cocks the mask. “No, Cali. I am a man of my word. You break my rules, you get punished.”

He kneels in front of me, and I try to close my legs, but the ties just below my knees prevent that.

The man’s fingers brush over my pussy again, sending a jolt of sensation up my spine despite my leggings. I jerk.

He laughs. “So sensitive.”

I grind my teeth. Fuck him. He won’t get another reaction out of me. He continues massaging the inner parts of my thighs, brushing my clit every now and again. Heat runs along my thighs straight to my pussy as the large masked man kneels at my feet, teasing me. I clench my fists.

“Cali, you need to learn a few things. The first is that you can’t fight me and win. I willalwayswin. And the second is that this pussy is mine. All of you is mine.”

He strokes my pussy directly. Immediate pleasure fills me with every touch of my clit. Good lord, has it been so long since I’ve been touched that I’m this desperate? I hold back a moan. None of this should turn me on.

“What a little slut.” He lightly pinches, getting my clit between his fingers and pulling it.