Phoenix is wearing black leggings and a long-sleeved black shirt. She has a black mask over her eyes. Strangely, the mask only adds to Phoenix’s outfit—like she should always be wearing a mask.
Even though I’ve fucked Phoenix plenty of times, it feels strange, almost immoral to do it now.
She chose you. She came to you. She wants you.
I glance over at Liesel on top of Waylon. She hasn’t removed any of her clothes, but I know his cock is about to slide between her legs.
Focus on Phoenix, on fucking her.
But what if she isn’t the one I crave anymore?
I grab Phoenix’s legs with all my rage and flip her over until the rope at her arms twists, tightening the bindings.
She gasps at the sudden movement, at her body twisting in an uncomfortable way. But that’s what this is about—fucking her so forcefully and so painfully that Liesel is terrified of me.
I climb onto the bed and rip her leggings back until her ass is showing. I slap her ass red.
She grunts, but when I reach between her legs, I feel how wet she is.
She likes it.
She would be the perfect match for me, unlike Liesel, who would be horrified if I touched her like this—untamed and wild.
I unzip my pants, pull myself out, and roughly enter her from behind. My hand reaches out to grab her face and shove my fingers into her mouth, pulling on her cheek. Her saliva drips down her chin as I pound into her.
Don’t look at Liesel.
Focus on fucking Phoenix. Focus on making it blissful for Phoenix; that’s the best way to frighten Liesel. If she sees Phoenix loving how rough I am, Liesel will be mortified.
I have no doubt what the next challenge is—fucking Liesel. I’m not sure I can handle it. Not after she just fucked Waylon. Not after I just fucked Phoenix. Not like this.
I want to win.
I want to protect Liesel.
How do I do that?
The bed creaks and breaks beneath us; that’s how hard I’ve been fucking Phoenix. In such a trance that I didn’t notice her sobs, her tears, her pain.
Phoenix likes the pain, though. I didn’t break her.
One glance over at the single tear floating in Liesel’s eye tells me I broke her.
21
Liesel
This is all a game.
A twisted.
Fucked up.
Evil game.
Langston may not realize how dangerous this game is yet, but he will soon.
I ride Waylon’s cock like I have an unhealthy level of love for him. My body pumps over his harder and faster; my eyes are wild with love and lust. I even let my eyes water a little. I haven’t cried in years, but this—seeing Langston next to me, pretending to hurt his wife while I pretend that fucking Waylon is my favorite thing in the world, makes me insane.
It pushes me to the edge of spilling my heart. To telling every rotten truth. To stop the lies between Langston and me. But if I did, we’d both be destroyed.
So I keep pretending. I like Waylon—truly, I do, but I don’t love him. I’m incapable of love.
Yet, by the way that Langston keeps shooting me dirty glances, it’s clear he believes I love the man whose cock is inside me.
Mission accomplished.
That was what I was supposed to do according to my card. Make Langston think I’m in love with Waylon. And I’m sure Langston’s told him to make me afraid of him.
I don’t really fear Langston any more than I did before we started, but still, I wince at every slap.
Maybe I’m lying to myself? Maybe I do fear Langston?
No, I’m just afraid of what will come next. I can’t be with Langston in that way…
Waylon moans, and I turn my attention back to him. I feel him close to coming. I rock my hips against him, pushing him closer to orgasm.
“Come with me, baby,” he says.
I smile at him and stroke his hair like his words are melting my heart.
I nod. “Together.”
Then I feel his warm cum inside me at the same time I yell out his name—faking an orgasm, something I’ve perfected over the years.
Once he’s done shooting cum into my body, I lean forward and kiss him tenderly on the lips.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“My pleasure. I love fucking you here where everyone is watching, knowing that you can have another man’s cock in you, but that you belong to me, no one else.”
“Yours,” I whisper against his lips.
I feel Langston’s hot stare on me. I hear his growl and the rough slapping of skin as he fucks Phoenix with everything he has. Every noise bites into me.
He’s taking out his frustration with me on Phoenix. And instead of feeling pity for the woman, I feel jealousy. I wish I were the one Langston was fucking that hard.
But my body and mind couldn’t handle it. Langston is too much for me. Maybe that’s why I chose Waylon—he’s safe.
I continue to kiss Waylon sweetly until our time is up. I’ve already completed my mission, and I’m just trying to focus on anything else except Langston going to town on Phoenix.
The slapping.
The kissing.
The grunting.
The moaning.
The smell of hot sex.
It’s impossible to shut out.
I sigh into Waylon’s lips.
“I love you, baby,” he says.
I kiss him. I never say the words back because our time is up.
“You both passed the first round. You have five minutes to collect yourself before we proceed,” the voice says.
I take off. I need out of the room. I need to breathe without smelling Langston. Need to think without Langston popping into my mind. Touch without Langston’s lips branding into my memory as he kisses me.
I want to run to the top deck to get some air, but Langston will find me there, and I need some space away from him to make sure I know what I’m doing.
I dart into one of the bathrooms and lock the
