Page 31 of Ruthless Game

That wouldn’t do. Bad girls didn’t get to come.

I withdrew my fingers, pleased by the way she cried out in denial. I wanted to edge her more, make her sloppy wet and so desperate she couldn’t see straight before I got to the main course.

A meal I’d yearned for for years.

But I was no longer a boy who yearned. I was a man who took.

This is truly fucked up, my conscience piped up.

I told it to shut up.

Waiting her out was an exercise in self-control. After Emma had left, I’d studied the shit out of the female body, thinking if I knew how to make a woman come in various ways, I’d be more comfortable with touching one. It hadn’t worked, but I basically had a summa cum laude in the female orgasm. I wanted to make Emma come, but I wanted to torture her more. She should know what it felt like to be denied something you desperately needed.

Once her body calmed and she was further from the edge of orgasming, I pushed my fingers back inside her pussy. She clenched around me right away and began to pulse as I rubbed tight circles on her swollen little clit, watching her face. It didn’t matter how much her earlier insult had pissed me off, it couldn’t stop me from being captivated by how beautiful she was. Her cheeks had filled out, face rounder, fuller, lips and eyelids still delicate and soft. There was a perverse satisfaction in turning my fairytale princess into a writhing whore.

Don’t call me that, you can’t call me that, please, Max …

I froze, words from long ago echoing in my ears.

Heaving a breath, I dismissed the memory, focusing on the present, and what I’d planned to do.

Get my mouth on the pussy that I’d once thought was only mine.

But first …

I worked her pussy harder, faster, anger moving through my body to my fingers as I pumped and played and set out to fucking destroy her.

I was rewarded moments later, as once again, she tightened. Just as she was about to come, I stopped thrusting my fingers and playing with her clit, but left them where they were so I could feel her squeeze around me, so tight from the need to come. Denying her made me feel stronger, more powerful than I had in a long time. Especially when I looked from her poor clit, brutally red from being overworked, to her face, scrunched up with dissatisfaction, wet from the rain, eyes glassy.

“Please, no more. I can’t, I’m not …” she choked on her words.

“Not what?”

She didn’t answer.

“I’m not strong enough for this,” she whimpered weakly.

Something about that pissed me off, enough to spank her cunt. Not hard enough to make her come, but hard enough for it to sting.

She made an adorably pitiful mewling sound. I almost came right there on the spot.

Lowering my hand to my cock, I squeezed it through my jeans.

“Oh, baby, is the big, bad man hurting you by giving you so much pleasure, only to take it away? Does it feel so good it hurts? Does it hurt so bad it feels good? I think you like this. Don’t worry, I’m going to make it worse,” I crooned.

Slipping my messy fingers out of her messier pussy, I lifted them to my lips and finally did what I’d always wanted to do—licked them clean.

Oh, fuck.

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuck.

Yellow Starbursts.

I didn’t know why her taste reminded me of them, but there was a sweetness, a sharp tang to her, and I needed more of it. Immediately.

Popping my fingers out of my mouth, I flexed my hand. There was a slight tremor, too small for her to see, but the awareness shot through me. Once upon a time, all I’d wanted was to get my mouth on her, to taste her, to make her feel good with my lips and tongue alone. I’d wanted it almost more than I’d wanted to fuck her. And it was about to happen, exactly where I’d pictured it, except all the love between us was gone.