Page 55 of Ruthless Game

But with one final, loud smack, I took mercy on her and stopped, resting my hand on the heat of her ass cheeks. She wriggled below me, thighs clenching.

“Are you about to come?” I asked, impressed by how responsive she was—to denial, to pain.

To me.

She moaned in response, like a broken animal.

As much as I wanted to see her fall apart on my lap, she didn’t deserve that orgasm. Holding that over her helped me regain my equilibrium. Still, I reached my hand between her legs, sliding my fingers through her soaked slit, making her whimper, especially when I reached her clit and played with it a bit. As soon as her body began to tighten and tense, I pulled my hand away, licking my fingers clean.

“You’ve made a mess,” I told her as I lifted her off my lap and placed her on her knees on the floor. “Clean it up.”

“Clean—clean what up?” her eyes were glassy, from the pain and denied pleasure. Seeing her like that, messy hair, disoriented expression, made me feel more satisfied than I had in my entire life. Hell, I almost didn’t need to come.

Nah.

That was bullshit.

I pointed to the huge wet spot she’d left on my sweatpants.

“Clean. It. Up.”

She glanced around. “With what?”

“Cute, little Angel,” I tsked, delighted that I’d spanked the fight out of her. “With your tongue.”

“Oh.” Her tongue peeked out of her mouth licking her lip, like she was considering it. And god, if I had a heart, I’d have fallen head over heels in love with her again at that very second. Fortunately for both of us, she’d destroyed it three years ago.

She leaned up, placing both hands on my thighs, eyeing my lap. Wrapping my hand in her hair, I tugged her head down toward it.

“Lick,” I ordered.

A moment later, she laved my cock—still covered by my sweats, the poor fucker—with her tongue, running it over the fabric and making me feel almost desperate for her. I’d never had this from her before—her mouth so close to where I’d needed it for so long. I’d never had anyone’s mouth on me. It was too much of a tease, so I told her, “Take it out.”

“Take …” she stared up at me, like she didn’t speak English. Or horny hockey player.

“Take. It. Out.” This was said through my gritted teeth.

Reaching up a hand, she pulled down my sweats with it. My cock sprang out, ready and willing for whatever she wanted to give it, the dumb fucker. I stared down at her, watching as her eyes got so big, as she licked her lips again.

“I want your mouth on me, Angel,” I said, and although it was meant to be an order, it sounded like a request.

A request that became a silenced plea when she lowered her head to my lap again, wrapped her lips around the crown, and sucked.

“Ah, fuck.”

Was I fucking trembling?

Was this everything I’d been missing in my life?

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, staring up at me, eyes wide.

“No, Angel. Keep going.”

My voice was thick, but softer than I’d intended. But what the fuck was I supposed to do, when she was staring up at me, the need to please written across her face. What was I supposed to do, when those perfect lips I’d loved so much moved back and forth over the head of my cock, so slowly, so tentatively. It almost made me angry, how virginal she seemed, but then the video hadn’t been of her going down on that other player.

“Angel, have you done this before?” I asked.

She paused. “Do you want the truth?”