by LP Lovell
I swallow, fighting back the moan, the want I have to give into the pleasure swirling through me. I suck him back deep in my throat, running my tongue along the side as I do. And now, Preston is doing nothing but causing a nearly unbearable form of torture with each soft, slow sweep of his tongue. Never have I been this wound up, my body buzzes with something akin to adrenaline, but it's so much more toxic than that. This feeling—Tobias's cock thrusting in and out of my mouth, Preston's hands roaming over my body, his tongue nearly bringing me to the brink only to force me away from the ledge time and time again—it is the most powerless form of power I've ever experienced. I'm drunk on it. Addicted, like it's a shot of pure heroin. And I am now certain that the intentions these two men have is not only to possess me, but to ruin me. They want to ruin me so that they know, once they are gone, no man will ever be enough. They want to be the thing I crave but can never have, because, honestly, what form of power is greater than this, having someone crave you like you are a drug?
And this is where I lose all inhibition. I moan around Tobias's cock, feeling it twitch in my hold, tasting the promise of his orgasm and wanting more. I fuck him harder with my mouth, more violently. His fingers tighten in my hair and he groans. I look up at him, watching as he tosses his head back, whispering the word, "fuck" over and over between needy moans. Each sound that leaves his lips drives me further to that edge, and I can't help but to thrust my hips, grinding my pussy over Preston's face, determined to force him to give me what I want.
Suddenly, Tobias tears away from me, grabbing his cock. His entire body goes tight with strain as he stares right at me. "I want to see you come, Ella," he says through clenched teeth, pumping his cock hard. And just like that, Preston switches gears, grabbing my thighs and pulling me down harder on his face. His tongue flicks over my clit and he thrusts two fingers inside me, deep and hard. My mouth falls open on a silent moan and I reach down, grabbing a handful of Preston's long hair as my hips roll against his face.
"Ah, fuck," Tobias groans, his eyes shuttering for a moment before he's coming, his thick cock jerking as he shoots a stream all over my chest. It's the most erotic thing I've ever seen, and my entire body detonates, wave after wave or orgasm crashing over me in a relentless moment that seems to go on forever. By the time Preston finally lets up, every bone in my body feels like liquid.
The second it's all over, embarrassment creeps in. I climb off Preston and kneel on the floor, keeping my eyes fixed down. I can feel both sets of their eyes on me, and I just want to crawl in a deep dark hole.
There’s a groan before Preston's jean-covered legs come into view. Will he want to fuck me now? And why am I nervous about that? Perhaps because that truly does make me a whore. He strokes my hair.
"Ella, you stay like that and you're going to make me come," he says, dropping to a crouch in front of me. "Look at me," he commands.
I do, holding his gaze as he drags a finger across my chest, allowing it to slide through the warm, wet mess Tobias left there. His eyes drop to my mouth just as he places his index finger against the seam of my lips, pressing inside. I allow him in, wrapping my lips around the salty taste of Tobias on Preston's skin. He watches me, his eyes darkening dangerously with each passing second. I circle my tongue around his finger and his eyes slam shut, his teeth clenching as he yanks his hand away from my mouth.
"Get dressed. There's a restroom at the back of the office. You can wipe yourself off, but don't wash it. We're going to play." He pushes to his feet, turning his back and striding out of the room. Tobias is already gone.
I quickly make my way to the back of the office and into the restroom, wiping off as instructed before I pull my dress back on. When I come out, Preston is waiting for me. I stop next to him and he leans down, pressing his lips to my chest and skimming his tongue over the spot where Tobias came. When he looks up at me, his eyes flicker. "Good girl, you're doing so well." He smiles at me before he takes my hand and leads me from the room.
7
The door to Club 33 swings open, the loud bass vibrating through my chest. Preston guides me along the corridor, up the stairs, and straight to a booth in the corner of the room where Tobias sits, a topless girl dancing in front of him. His eyes glide over her body. When he notices us walking toward him, he reaches inside his breast pocket, takes a wad of cash out, and tosses it on the table before dismissing her with a single flick of his wrist.
I take a seat in the booth next to Tobias and Preston slides in beside me. Tobias glances down to my chest, a flicker of a smile dancing over his lips. "Can you still smell me on you?" He laughs.
I clear my throat and glance around. "Quite upscale for a strip club," I say.
"Gentlemen's club, my dear." He lifts his glass to his lips before shooting his gaze to Preston. "Day one. Game one," he says, sweeping his finger across my cheek. "There is nothing more powerful than sex. I want you to feel power, Ella…”
My heart beats faster with each passing second that he remains silent, his eyes locked on mine. Preston’s hand sweeps over my arm.
“What do you think of women who take their clothes off to entertain men?” Tobias asks, his eyes flickering. “And remember,” he says with a smirk, “do not lie to me.”
“We know what you think of it,” Preston whispers next to my ear.
I swallow and my eyes drop to my lap. “I uh…I don’t, I mean, I think it’s…”
“Disgusting?” Tobias asks.
“Demeaning,” Preston counters.
“Yes.”
“But why?”
I shrug. “It’s…it’s just…” And to be honest, I can’t tell them why because I’d be a hypocrite. These women dance for men to make money, and now it all seems so ridiculous that I ever looked down my nose at them, because here I sit between Tobias and Preston, paid for seven days of my life. Paid to be their fuck doll, to let them use me.
“Think about it a little differently now, little lamb?” Tobias places his fingertip underneath my chin and tilts my head up. “And I promise, you’ll think very differently of it after tonight.”
Preston slides out of the booth and holds out his hand. “Come with me, sweet Ella.” I glance at Tobias and he nods, so I climb out, following Preston around the bar and through a doorway.
He points to a door. “There’s a thong on the stool. A pair of stilettos. Put those on and leave your clothes here. “
I open my mouth to speak, but catch myself. My chest tightens, my cheeks heat.
“Game one, Ella. You’re going to dance, and…” he chuckles, “well, Tobias will tell you the rest.” He opens the door and I walk in, closing it behind me. Sure enough, there, on the wooden stool in the corner of this small room, is a black lace thong and, on the floor, a pair of glittery silver shoes.
Am I going to do this? I slip my dress off and fold it, laying it on the stool as I take the thong. Am I going to walk out of this room and into that bar nearly naked? I pull the thong over my thighs and step into the shoes, glancing down at my naked breasts. My pulse skips and jumps. What choice do I have?
I open the door and Preston smiles when I step out. “You are beautiful.” And he turns around, making his way down the hall. I can only assume they’ve arranged this, surely they have, but I can’t ask, now can I?
When we step back into the bar, my first instinct is to cover my breasts with my arm.
“Act the part, Ella,” Preston grabs my arm and shoves it down by my side.
Tobias glares at me as we cross the room. I feel men’s eyes on me. I feel dirty and wrong. When we stop at the end of the table, Tobias grins. “Now, for the game, you must make that man,” he points at a tall, dark-haired man leaned against a table at the back of the room, “get into a fight with any other man here. I don’t care who.”
“But…”
Tobias holds up a single finger. “Don’t.” And just like a naughty child, I drop my gaze to the floor. "You must use all of your many assets, little lamb." A sadistict smi
le pulls at his lips and Preston laughs. My face heats. I want to crawl into a hole and never come out. “Oh, and by the way, you have two hours. Good luck." Tobias winks before he slides out of the booth.
"We'll be watching," Preston whispers before he turns and follows Tobias to the stairwell.
A waitress stops beside me, balancing a silver tray with a drink. "Vodka tonic," she says. "Compliments of Mr. Benton."
"Thank you." I take the drink, panic settling in my chest. This is nearly impossible—make two complete strangers fight, and yet this is my first game? Shaking my head, I take a sip of my drink, skimming the bar. My mind whirls, my thoughts jumbling. In a matter of minutes, I've polished off my drink and the waitress almost immediately replaces it. “Mr. Benton said to tell you one hour, fifty-three minutes,” she says before she turns and walks off.
My stomach knots and kinks. There's a group of men sitting at the table next to me. The man on the end glances at me and holds my stare. He raises his hand to his face to sweep a piece of hair from his forehead. I notice his split knuckles, the butterfly stitches on his cheek. Smiling, I place one foot in front of the other, swinging my hips as I approach the table. He turns toward me, his eyes dragging over my body.
I don’t say a word. I fight the fear pummeling through me, struggling to keep my hand from shaking as I place it on his hard shoulder, and then, I swing one leg over his lap and straddle him. “On the house,” I whisper, and he grins.
I'm nervous and uncomfortable, but I think of the money, the possible two million dollars as I force my body to move in time with the music blaring over the sound system. I rub my hands over his chest. I lean down next to him, blowing a warm breath over his neck, and I grind and grind and grind over him, with each arch of my back, my breasts brush his face.
“Fuck,” he says, and even though his hands keep twitching by his side, he never touches me. Not once, but I can see him fighting it.
I have to make him feel invested, feel something if I have any hopes of making him fight. My mind skips and hops over scenarios, pulling scenes from romance novels and movies, and the only conclusion I can come to as how I can possibly accomplish this task: I have to make one guy in here feel like he needs to protect me. I must make myself seem helpless or pathetic or...
“I'm sorry. I'm not very good at this,” I say, dropping my gaze. "It's my first time."
He smiles. "Well you did good."
The song ends and I climb off his lap, chewing at my bottom lip as I stare at him. "Thanks,” I say.
His eyes never leave mine, and I take in a deep breath before I walk away, praying that was enough.
The guy in the back of the room is watching me, sipping on his drink as a girl dances in front of him. She bends over and shakes her ass, and he tosses money on the floor before he smacks her hip. She walks off and he stands, tips his beer back, then slams it on the table before he motions me over with his finger.
I pass the girl who was dancing for him and she rolls her eyes at me. “He’s an asshole.”
My heart races with each step I take. He smiles and I flip my long hair over my shoulder, subtly trailing my fingers over my chest, my nipples, my fingers shaking. I stop in front of him and his eyes trail over my body, stopping between my thighs. “I bet your pussy is pretty, isn’t it?”
Disgust knots my stomach and I force a smile as I twirl a piece of hair around my fingertip. Even though I can't see Tobias and Preston, I can feel them watching. The bass pounds through the system and the guy takes a seat, tapping the tabletop. “On the table, sweet cheeks.”
He gives me his hand as I step up on the table, shame washing over me like an unpleasant fog. I take a deep breath and move my hips to the music.
“Turn around and bend over,” he says, and when I do, my gaze locks on the guy with the busted cheek. He’s watching me, and I feel like shit. I drop my ass to the table and grind, my stare still aimed at the other guy as I try to grasp the smallest insight into how I can possibly carry out his task. When I feel hands on my hips, I freeze.
“Don’t stop moving, whore,” the guy says with a growl as he presses against me. I can feel his dick through his jeans and bile rises in my throat, my heart hammering.
His fingers slide around to my ass. "You’re a fucking whore," he says.
I nearly topple off the table trying to get away from him. He grabs me by the waist yanking me up against him. "I bet you'll scream, won't you?” he says.
"Let me go," I shout. "Let me go."
Before he can say anything else, someone grabs me by the shoulders and tears me away from him.
"You got a problem motherfucker?"
I turn around and see the guy I was dancing on earlier, his jaw clenching and that butterfly stitching stretching with each movement of his cheek.
"Mind your own fucking business," the other guy says, stepping in his face.
The nice guy head-butts him and he staggers back a few steps, and then, all out chaos ensues. Fists are thrown, men are shouting and my heart is racing. Before I know it, three other guys have stepped in. A chair goes crashing against a wall. A beer bottle shatters on a table. I get several feet away, and when I turn to run, Tobias is standing right behind me.
"So I tell you two men," his eyes drift over to the brawling heap in the corner, "and you give me four." He nods. "Impressive, Ms. Taylor. Very Impressive."
Preston steps up beside him. "You win, sweet Ella," he smirks, moving closer to me. My heartbeat skitters at his mere proximity, and my breath hitches when he grips the back of my neck and presses his lips against mine.
Tears sting my eyes.
“We wouldn’t have let him hurt you,” Tobias says, but how can I believe that?
Preston takes me by the shoulders and escorts me back to the room I changed in earlier, dressing me himself before we walk out and leave the bar.
There’s a car waiting at the curb. A driver gets out and opens the back door, and Preston and I climb inside.
The door slams shut just as Tobias walks out from the club, the sleazy guy who touched me at his side. Tobias’s face is red, his lips flat, his fists clenched, and the other guy looks terrified.
The window rolls down. “The other car will meet you in ten minutes,” Preston calls out and Tobias simply nods.
Where is Tobias taking him? What have I done? What have I just done?
8
I pull my suit jacket on as I walk back down the alleyway. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I take it out.
“Yeah?”
“So, how did she do?”
A smile works its way over my lips. “Very well. She is perfect and I think…” a chuckle works its way up my throat. “I think this will go over quite well.”
There’s a long moment of silence. “Good.” His voice is laced with a touch of disdain. “Good, Tobias.”
“You wouldn’t be rethinking our agreement, would you?” I ask, my eyes narrowing on the black car parked at the side of the street, headlights running.
“Of course not. How many times have we done this?”
“Four.”
“And has there ever been a problem before?”
“No," I say, "but she’s different. She’s very different.”
He huffs into the phone. “She’s a woman, they’re all the same, Tobias.”
“Such a shame you believe that,” I say, and with that, I hang up the phone and open the door to the car, climbing into the empty back seat.
The driver glances in the rearview at me. “Ready to go home, sir?” he asks and I nod.
Ella Taylor. She is different than the rest. My sweet little lamb. My sweet little sacrificial lamb…
The End of Game One.
Two Guys
The Game Series #2
Available to pre-order now on Amazon.
About The Authors
LP Lovell is an indie author from England. She suffers from a total lack of brain to mouth filter and is the friend you have to explain before you in
troduce her to anyone, and apologise for afterwards.
She's a self confessed shameless pervert, who may be suffering from slight peen envy.
Stevie J. Cole likes to write realistic stories with raw, gritty characters you should hate but can't help but to love.
She's obsessed with rock music, loves sloths, and has an unnatural obsession with British accents.
Her books are not recommended for the faint of heart.
Please visit www.lovellandcolebooks.com to see more titles by Stevie J. Cole and LP Lovell.