He laughed. “Right. You’re the biggest liar here.”
“The more you lie the more you push her away,” I said. “She thinks you don’t like her.”
Maybe it was the weed lowering my inhibitions.
“I want your pussy, Snitch. Not your psychoanalysis.” With one hand still holding the cards, his other came between my thighs.
Deep. Breath.
He’s fucking with me. I know he’s fucking with me. He wants a reaction. I struggled not to give it to him. I’d always been too sensitive, and even with the material of my skirt as a shield, it wasn’t enough. It was too thin, and I wished I’d worn something thicker.
Grayson Crowne’s birthright was to own and possess, and it bled into the weight of his hand, the casual way he held me.
“I’ve been thinking about how to punish you for that stunt you pulled.” He lifted his leg, spreading my thighs around his knee.
I swallowed a breath. “This isn’t my punishment?”
“Maybe I want you to beg me while I gamble your body. I haven’t decided.” He exhaled hot smoke, blurring the poker table, the glittery room.
My belly did a wicked twist at his words, feeding at the heat that was burning me to ash in his lap.
Don’t. React.
That’s what he wants. All of this is a game. He wants me to fall apart in his lap so he can laugh when I do. I stayed stock-still, saying the words over and over in my head.
“I’ll never beg you.” My words were jagged and rocky, and I swear Grayson smiled against my neck.
“I’ve been thinking we should put your virginity to the test.” His lips vibrated against my skin. “It’s always the quiet, modest ones that are the freakiest.”
I know he was just saying it to get to me, and what sucked, is it did. Somehow, my virginity was still the most special thing about me, even though I’d lost it years ago. The reason these guys were willing to bet houses and cars and companies.
“I remember the way you begged. How you whispered more.”
He was growing hard beneath my ass, but when he spoke, his words were laced with no emotion.
I tried to focus on the cards flying across the table. On his long fingers dealing the cards. But I couldn’t fight the deep, needful ache inside me. It was consuming me, and he was going to humiliate me.
I had to fight back.
“So says the loudmouth playboy virgin with a hard-on,” I whispered, words too breathy for my liking.
He tensed.
Then picked up his cards.
When he spoke, his voice was rougher. Meaner. “I don’t believe for a minute you haven’t had a cock inside this pussy.” He gripped me harder, and my lips parted on a hollow breath. I couldn’t lift my head to determine if anyone could see what was happening. I stared at the table, vision blurring, as humiliation coursed through my veins.
I almost caved. Just to sate the need growing untamed inside me. Instead I tried to subtly shift against his thigh, I wasn’t sure if to relieve the throbbing or encourage it.
He laughed, dealing the next hand. “Does the idea of being sold get you wet? If you ruin my jeans I’m going to be pissed, Snitch.”
I fought everything in my body to grip his thigh and give in. Instead I pressed back against his erection.
“If you come on my back, I’ll send you the dry-cleaning bill,” I whispered back.
Gray froze, then slammed his knee between my thighs in a harsh, violent thrust. I gasped, gripping his thigh. It was still a game to him…but I was falling apart.
I didn’t realize the rule I needed to make until it was already broken: don’t come with Grayson Crowne. I was too hot, my thoughts disappearing into the throbbing ache between my thighs, tingles sprouting with my goose bumps.