“Fuck you!” I winced, immediately regretting my loss of temper because Brock struck her again. Her teeth came close to ripping into my cock, which would hurt like fuck, but I was more furious at myself.

I couldn’t stand her mouth around my dick, hot and tight and so fucking perfect, couldn’t stand the way her throat opened for me, sucking down my length until she made continuous gagging noises. Most of all, I couldn’t stand the spasm of pain that tightened her muscles, because while she was enduring the brutal lashings, I was getting off on it.

Her helplessness made me harder, desperate, and fuck, I wanted to explode down her throat, despite the scrape of her teeth.

Cleft grabbed my chin. “Fucking beg.”

Shame flared, searing my flesh and heating several layers below. “Please let me come.”

“Still not buying it. Hit the bitch again,” he told Brock.

Another bite of leather on flesh, and Alex’s muffled cries shuddered around my shaft, pulling at the beast in me. I groaned, heaving in air, my heart rate thundering in my chest. I had to stop this. If I came…

Fuck.

What would they do to her then?

“Make your stubborn piece of shit boyfriend beg like he means it!” Cleft shook her head, and she sucked harder.

“Don’t hurt her!”

“Make me believe it, Mason. Last chance.”

Alex and I exchanged a heavy glance, and she didn’t need words to plead. The way her eyes pummeled me said it all. She wanted me to give in and find pleasure in her mouth. Wanted me to end this already.

Ah, fuck. “Please, I’m begging you.”

“Begging me for what?” Cleft asked.

“Fucking let me come in her mouth!”

He bobbed her head in rapid thrusts, his fingers fisting her hair, and Brock returned to filming our humiliation. Her mouth gloved me in blessed hell, sucking my cock so deep, I thought she might swallow me whole.

“How bad do you want it?” Cleft asked.

Bad, more than I’d ever wanted it in my life. I gritted my teeth, lips pulled tight, and threw my head back with a long groan. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. A woman’s mouth had never felt so fucking good.

“You don’t have permission.”

Too fucking late. God himself couldn’t stop the eruption. I pumped my seed down her throat, letting out several hoarse cries, limbs rigid from the rush of release. Cleft let go of her hair, and she inched back, her tongue lapping at my tip to catch the final drops.

The ensuing silence was profound yet tenuous, and as Alex lowered to her haunches and hung her head, the disquiet spelled fucking doomsday.

12. Wicked Games - Alex

12. WICKED GAMES - ALEX

“Sugar, your boyfriend has a defiant streak.”