All Chapters of Playing with the Enemy: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

I slapped his left butt cheek. Hard. He groaned, and his balls tightened.Yes, Jade… Yessss… I mused as my dick lifted itself.I knelt higher and went in, all the way, in one move.He groaned, pushing back against me, as if inviting me to go even deeper immediately.My body jolted.How long has it been? How long have I waited? Fuck me! God! Fuck me, side fucking ways! This was it! This was all I needed! What I had missed for years! Years!My brain exploded. My heart pumped with such urgency that I thought I would need an ambulance.I rammed into him at such a pace and such zeal that I thought HE might need it first.But this was my star. My ex-athlete. My most malleable instrument. He moved with me. Hit for hit, pull, twist, roll, jerk, however I moved, he stayed with me.Pushing back, dipping low, rising, grinding, as my lower belly, my pelvis, my upper thighs slapped against his gradually reddening as

I wanted to put it inside his slightly open mouth, have him gag over my thickness, but that would have to wait.Now, I had to recharge, with sleep.I touched my side. It was hot, swelling. I would need a massage. I had sprained the muscle around my pelvis. If it had been dislocated or cracked, I would never have been able to take the last round.I saw the face of the therapist I would need to see for this treatment. My dick pulsed. And I swallowed as my heart rate picked up.My gaze drifted back to the sleeping evil. He looked so peaceful. So gentle. My heart trembled. I touched his lips. He didn’t move.I leaned down.No movement.I got lower.No change.I placed my lips on his and closed my eyes.This is hell. My personal nightmare. But I will do what I must, Leon. Everything. And in the end, only one of us will remain standing.With that thought, I stood.He had not budged.I watched him for a moment longer, then limped out. He had my message. The next move would be his, but while

The straps were biting into my skin. Not cutting. It wasn’t hurting. It was simply letting me know it was there. Every breath pulled on it. Every movement strained the binding.And whatever incense had been in the soap or the water or was in the air in the steam room, was making me want to cross my legs, but that would pull the straps around my ass cheeks, and I didn’t want that.There was no underwear in the bundle. I could already see where this was going. That was part of the game. To get me on edge.I wasn’t going to play.So, instead, I closed my eyes and moderated my breathing.==========Jayden’s POV.I went home. I didn’t have a choice. As my ‘driver’ helped me to the door, I slipped a note into his hand.He thanked me and ran off.I let myself in and went to the kitchen. I got ice from the freezer, wrapped it in a dish towel, and gasped as I pressed it on my side.I staggered upstairs to my bedroom and go

I was hot. My skin was on fire. The gel was burning me. Only, it wasn’t. As I stared at my chest, my eyes wide, sweat pouring off my forehead, I knew I wasn’t being injured.But the sensation was real.I croaked as the heat increased with every trembling breath.I wanted to pour cold water, or maybe even icy milk, all over my body. I strained against the binding, and only then did I realize that the chain on my wrist was connected to the chair itself.“Ed!!! Take these off! Take it off!” I bellowed, as if that would move him, as if that would stop him.He stood.“What’s wrong, baby? Is it uncomfortable?”“Ed!”He rubbed his still gel-covered fingers on my tongue.I gaped at him, mouth open. My body wasn’t moving right. It was not responding correctly.My eyes widened, and he bit his lip as he coated my tongue, then my lips with the jelly.Peaches… the word filled my mind as the scent filled my nost

I didn’t go home. My wife would have a conniption if she saw the bruises on me.I went to a hotel I used from time to time. An upscale, frequently used location by the masses. The kind that people win stays and dinners as prizes on shows.The irony that I had returned to my office the day after an attack by a squad of killers, but would not dare go home to my pregnant wife with the marks I had on my body, was not lost on me.But Mrs. Sullivan was not as kind as a bullet to the head.I used a wheelchair to get in, not because I couldn’t walk, but because I didn’t want my wounds to take a second longer than they needed to heal.The bellhop pressed the floor number for me and stood to the side.He rolled me into my suite, and I rose to get my wallet from my pocket. It fell, and he helped me pick it up.My words of gratitude froze on my lips.The eyes I was staring at should not be here.I glanced at the door that was closin