Page 98 of Ruthless Game

But now? Now, with him on the wet tile floor, staring up at me, tears in his eyes, I only wanted peace. Only him.

Not that I wouldn’t let Max make it up to me. I deserved all that, and more, for what he’d put me—us—through.

Starting with making sex good for both of us.

Shutting off the shower, I said, “Max, stand up.”

He did immediately, towering over me, but seeming small for the first time since his father had died in high school. “Where do you want me?” he asked.

“Bedroom.”

He nodded, letting me lead him. His breathing was shallow, his dick still hard. My pussy ached, both from the sharp pain of his penetration earlier, and this consuming need to have him inside me again. His cock inside me had been a painful revelation of everything we’d missed out on for so long.

Not anymore. From now on, we’d have this, whenever we wanted it.

But first, I was going to torture him for once.

When we entered the bedroom, I pushed him. He didn’t move, of course—my small, curvy body was no match for his huge, tall, broad one.

“On the bed,” I told him.

He climbed on, waiting for my instructions.

“On your back.”

He lay back against the pillows. God, this was power. This was choice. This was everything I’d been missing, and I felt it burn so good in my core.

I climbed on and over him, grabbing his cock, stroking it a few times, feeling it jerk in my hand. And then, without a word, I began to lower myself over it, first sliding back and forth over the crown, then letting my walls engulf the tip. I went slow, so slow. Not only to make it hurt less, but to make him hurt more.

“Oh, god, fuck, Emma. Starburst⁠—”

I slid down, lower, lower, placing my hands on his chest to balance myself. Something about the angle meant he hit my G-spot in exactly the right place, and I gasped as his eyes rolled back in his head.

“That’s so damn good, so good. God, your cunt is fucking heaven⁠—”

“Not God,” I corrected, like he had, once. “Emma.”

“Emma, you are my goddess,” he groaned. “The only thing I’ll ever worship. Let me pray to you, Angel. Let me⁠—”

I sank lower and his words turned into a gibberish growl. I cried out as he bottomed out inside me.

“I’m so full,” I whimpered. He was everywhere. So deep, it was like I could feel him in my throat. I ached, but it felt so good.

“Does it still hurt, Angel?” he asked.

I nodded, then shook my head. “Yes, but so good.”

“Yeah,” he said, like he agreed. “The best kind of hurt. Angel, I need you to move.”

I stared down at him, power infusing me.

“Beg,” I told him.

“Please, Angel, Starburst, I’ll do anything, if you move. If you let me move.”

“No,” I shook my head. “Not yet. Beg harder.”

He groaned. “Please, beautiful, please move. I’m trying so hard to control myself but I won’t be able to for long …”