Indecent Games Duet - Boxed Set

by Clarissa Wild

  Our breaths are hot with arousal, and her hand reaches down between my legs, her fingers around my waistband. She tugs down my sweatpants and pulls my dick out. I’m so hard for her she moans out loud at the feel of me, and when I feel how fucking wet she is for me, I thrust in immediately. She moans out loud as she undulates on top of me, fucking me hard.

  Neither of us cares about the two dead bodies, nor do we care that we’re covered in blood. And if I’m really honest, it only makes this sickly hot.

  She fucks me so hard I feel like I’m a dildo that she’s riding, but I love it all the same. She sits up, and I take the opportunity to squeeze her tits and twist her nipples. However, she immediately grabs my wrists and pins them to the floor. The animalistic sounds coming from her mouth, the growling, tell me something. It tells me this isn’t just fucking for the release. It isn’t just fucking for the pleasure. It’s fucking for power.

  And the moment she softens her grip, I clutch her arms and roll her over with force. She growls and tries to bite me, but I retaliate with a swift thrust into her pussy. My cock forces her into silence as I stare into her eyes and command her to do my pleasing.

  When I smash my lips onto hers, she bites, but I lick up the blood with a smirk. Then I lean up and grab her by the chin, making her look at me as I slam into her. My brother’s blood is smudged across her face and tits, and I love how fucking primal it looks. How fucking horny it makes me.

  Her hands are trying to grasp me to roll me over again and get her on top, but I’m not letting her get close. Instead, I pin her to the floor and fuck her even harder. She opens her legs even farther and moans when I take her nipple between my teeth and tug.

  I know she likes what I do … but she can’t help always trying to be at the top.

  It’s what we do.

  Who we are.

  Fighters.

  Winners.

  Conquerors.

  And in each other, we’ve found our match.

  Her hand reaches between her legs, and she furiously starts masturbating as I fuck her pussy raw. She’s so tight and wet that I lose control, and I close my eyes for just a second to enjoy the sensations.

  Only to find me rolling around again and having her end up on top of me. She slams me down on the floor and holds my hand down harder as she swivels around on my cock. She brings her blood-soaked finger to my mouth and makes me suck on it. One of my hands is free, and I use it to flick her clit, making her moan out loud.

  A few seconds later, her eyes roll into the back of her head, and I can feel her muscles tighten all around me. Wetness coats my cock, and I come undone.

  Howling, I come inside her, my seed pulsing deep into her pussy, just like it should.

  She holds my hand in place over her clit, as if to signify that it belongs there. That she’s not only mine, but that I’m also hers.

  Breathing heavily, she slowly falls down on top of me, my cock still inside her. She rests her head on my chest, and I listen to her breaths as she listens to my heart. I pet her hair, which is still slick from blood and sweat, and I wonder if this is the best sex I’ve had in my entire life.

  “Is it over now?” she mutters suddenly.

  I smile as she lifts her head with a curious look on her face. “Yes, it is … and you won.”

  27.

  Accompanying Song: “Technically, Missing” by Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross

  Naomi

  A week later

  I hold my mom’s hand as I hand her the last envelope.

  “Oh, honey …” she murmurs. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Open it,” I say.

  She parts her lips. “But you haven’t even told me where you’ve been yet. How your vacation was.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” I say. “Just open it.”

  She sighs and does what I ask and then her jaw drops when she sees the numbers on the check. “F-fifty million …” she stutters. “I can’t take this.”

  I squeeze her hand. “I want you to use this money to pay off your debts and Dad’s medical bills. And”—I pause to slowly unravel my hand from hers—“this is the last time you’ll receive money from me.”

  “Thank you. I don’t know what to say,” she says, tears welling up in her eyes.

  I cock my head. “Well, you can start by apologizing.”

  She frowns. “What do you mean?”

  I lean back. “I wasn’t on vacation, and I think you know this.”

  She shakes her head, but I place a finger on my lips to silence her.

  “I know I’m adopted, but …” Her eyes widen when I say these words. “I also know you received me from a man in exchange for a deal.”

  “Nao—”

  “Shh,” I interrupt. “It’s too late to deny it. I know the truth now.” I lean in and grasp both her hands, pinning them to the table. “What you did was wrong, and you know that.”

  She licks her lips and sucks on the bottom one but doesn’t respond.

  “But you can do the right thing now,” I say.

  Her face turns dark, and her eyes fill with guilt. “I know what we did, and I always regretted it. We just … we wanted a baby girl so badly; we’d do anything for it. I didn’t know what that man needed you for. Tell me he didn’t hurt you,” she pleads.

  “He didn’t. But what’s been done can’t be undone. You made sure of that.”

  She swallows. “I’m sorry, Naomi. I really am. And your dad is too. We can never make it up to you.” A tear rolls down her cheek. “But we love you. We really do, with all our heart.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Prove it to me.”

  “What do you want me to do? I’ll do anything,” she mutters.

  “Anything?” I ask.

  Without hesitation, she says, “Anything.”

  I smile at that admission. It’s precisely what I wanted. Exactly what I needed from her. Her full and utter attention.

  And finally … some retribution.

  ***

  A few weeks later

  “Honey …” I call out from the bathroom. “How much did your brothers actually own in the company?”

  “What, you mean shares? I don’t know … same as me, I suppose,” he calls back.

  “And how much is that?” I ask.

  “Pfft … seventeen percent. Maybe Devon’s was sixteen. I don’t know.”

  I spit out my toothpaste and look at my teeth in the mirror. They seem even shinier than normal. “What happened to those shares? They must’ve been transferred to someone else, right? They wouldn’t just disappear.”

  It takes him a while to answer. “No … my father gave them to me because I’m the only one left.”

  “Interesting. So you own like fifty percent of the company then?”

  “Yes. Father just doesn’t like having shares outside the company.”

  “Hmm …” I reply, not saying much else.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Oh, no reason. Just curious,” I muse. Then I grab the home pregnancy testing kit and take out the stick.

  I sit on the toilet and pee on the absorbent end, after which I flush and hold it up above the sink, waiting until the results are in. I hum in agreement at the results.

  How surprising. Not.

  The pieces of the puzzle are coming together. It’s all falling into place.

  I walk out of the bathroom and into our master bedroom, which has now been completely renovated, along with all the other rooms in the mansion. I couldn’t stand seeing the same furniture that Devon, Anthony, and the eight other girls had used. It just didn’t feel right. So with a smidge of paint, a little bit of retouching, and mostly new chairs, tables, curtains, and beds, all the rooms have been transformed into a beautiful, lavish home. After Max had called the baggers and they had cleaned up all the mess, of course. They even helped him create fake stories about the deaths of all the girls, attributing it to vacation horrors such as bad weather and freak accidents. And for his brothers, of cour
se. They had an unfortunate falling out that resulted in one killing the other then committing suicide with a gun. I wonder what his father will say. I’m not sure which version of the story we’ll tell him.

  Regardless, we now live without worries, without having to care about their families. And we have a special guest room, a gaming room, and even a newly built relaxing spa.

  That’s what happens when you’re the soon-to-be-wife of an heir to a billion-dollar company, which deals with more billions of dollars. You get whatever you ask for. No questions asked.

  So now, I stand in the middle of the room in front of our king-size bed, on which Max is comfortably reading a book, and I slowly slide off my robe.

  “Oh …” Max raises his eyes above his book. “What’s this?”

  I smile and turn my body around, touching my stomach. “Do you notice anything?”

  His eyes widen, and a wicked smile spreads across his lips. “Are you pregnant?”

  I nod.

  He throws his book down onto the bed and immediately jumps off and comes toward me. He grabs the back of my head and kisses me straight on the lips. “Congratulations.”

  “To the both of us,” I murmur.

  He smiles and kisses me again. “I love you so much …”

  It’s the first time he’s said it to me like that. I don’t really know how to respond. “Love you too,” I say awkwardly. I’m not sure, but it feels like the first time I’m genuine and honest about my own emotions.

  “A baby,” he mutters, touching my belly. “Is it really there?”

  I show him the stick. “That’s what it says.”

  “Wow.” He grins. “Finally.”

  “So …” I place my hands on his shoulders and push him down. “You know what to do now.”

  He frowns. “How so?”

  I narrow my eyes. “You know what I want.”

  There’s a glimmer in his eyes, and after a few seconds, he drops to one knee and grabs my hand.

  “Naomi Lee … will you officially be my bride now?”

  “Where’s my ring?” I muse.

  “I will get you one tomorrow. With diamonds,” he adds as if that will make me happier.

  I smile, gently squeezing his hand. “All right.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes. Of course, I will marry you, Max Marino.”

  He comes up and kisses me on the lips again. “Mrs. Naomi Marino.” He grins. “How does it sound?”

  “Brilliant,” I reply.

  “Better get used to it because I’m not letting you go. Not after this news.” He places his hand on my belly and smiles. I suppose a way of asserting dominance over something, or someone, that hasn’t even been born.

  I return the smile, but it’s not one of happiness.

  It’s one of imminent victory.

  Mrs. Naomi Lee Marino. The last bride left standing.

  28.

  Accompanying Song: “Technically, Missing” by Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross

  Naomi

  A few days later

  As I leave my own apartment for the last time, my finger travels along the cabinet, and I wipe away the dust that’s collected. Such a silly thing, to be attached to a broken place like this. To even remotely feel sad about leaving and never returning. I suppose it’s mostly the fact that this is where I first realized what was truly happening in my life. The magnitude of the choices I made in my life and those that others made shaped my very existence.

  That … and the fact that this stack of papers I’m holding in my hand is the only thing I have left of my old life makes me feel like I’m stepping into a whole new one. A whole new me. Like I’ve transformed and put on a new skin.

  If only my past self knew what was coming. I’d have never been sad about my lonely, poor life. Not a single day.

  ***

  As I walk into the living room of the mansion, I see Max sitting on the couch, watching television while looking over some notes his father sent him. I close the doors and check to see if anyone else is here. When the coast is clear, I walk up to him and wrap my arms around him to hug him from behind.

  Max Marino, husband of Naomi Lee Marino.

  We married on a whim in City Hall. No party. No guests. No fuss. Just the two of us. Well, and that baby growing inside me, of course.

  “Hey …” Max says, kissing my arm as he continues to look over his papers.

  “Those are from your father?” It’s more of a statement than a question, but I already know. What else could it be?

  “Yeah, company things.”

  “Right.” I nod, not really caring. “Did you send all the staff home for today?”

  “Not yet. Donna’s still up on the second floor, cleaning the bathrooms. Why?”

  “Oh … you know …” I snigger.

  “Well, she told me she’s wearing earbuds to listen to some music while she cleans, so … if you want to do something, nobody will hear.”

  “Good,” I muse, and I step away from him.

  I didn’t ask because I want to do something. At least not the something he’s thinking of. My ideas of doing something are entirely different and much more poignant.

  I reach into my pocket and take out a knife that I’ve been carrying around all day, preparing for this moment.

  “Turn around,” I say, and when he does, he drops his papers and his jaw too.

  “What are you doing?” he growls.

  The knife is pointed at my belly.

  “Claiming my end of the deal,” I say without even a sliver of emotion.

  “Put that down,” he says, holding up his hands like he can do something about it when I’m clearly in control.

  “No.”

  “Listen to me,” he says, getting up from the couch. “You don’t want to do that.”

  “I’ll do it if you don’t shut up,” I say. “Now. Sit. Down.” I point at the chair beside me, right behind the small table.

  He does what I ask, slowly striding toward it, his eyes zoomed in on the knife.

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” I say, clutching the knife.

  “Why are you doing this?” he asks. “That’s our baby, Naomi. Ours.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Why would you want to hurt our baby?” he asks.

  “I don’t, and I won’t,” I say.

  “If …” he adds.

  Obviously, he knows there’s always an if.

  I pull out the papers from my other pocket and place them on the table in front of him, then I step back to make sure he’s out of reach of the knife.

  “You signed this. I signed this. This is our contract,” he says.

  “Exactly … and in it, it states that you will give me fifty percent of your shares and give my parents the other half.”

  “Bullshit,” he growls, slamming his fist on the table. “That part was only viable if you received—”

  “Permanent damage.” I cock my head and then touch my belly when he still hasn’t figured it out.

  “A baby,” he mutters. “Permanent damage?”

  “Oh, Max … didn’t you realize? That’s what happens to a woman’s body when she gets pregnant. It changes. And it never turns back the way it used to be.”

  His nostrils flare. “You set me up.”

  As his posture strengthens, I push the knife further into my belly, almost puncturing my skin. “Don’t. Move.”

  “You threaten our baby, put his life and yours at stake … for what?”

  “Fifty percent of your shares. And my parents get the other half. That’s it.”

  “You’re stripping me of all my shares,” he says.

  “Think of it as a dowry,” I muse, smiling like the crazy motherfucker I am. “Now … If you can grab the paper on the bottom, please.”

  He does what I ask and pulls it out from under the contract. It’s a completely new one. One that relinquishes him of all his shares. “Sign it,” I say.

  He throws me one last, angry glance be
fore picking up the pen on the table and slowly penning his signature.

  “What will you do with it, huh? It’s just money. I could give you the world, anything you want. Why are you still unhappy?”

  “I just want what I want, Max. Take it or leave it.”

  Right before he writes the final letter, he says, “What if I say no?”

  “Then you lose your child and wife … just like your brother. And when that happens, I doubt you’ll be able to save yourself from the same fate he met.”

  He makes a fist with his free hand, but the other one signs the final letter, finalizing the deal.

  “Good. Now grab your phone and call the one who’s in charge of the shares. Tell him to give everything to me and show me proof of the transaction.” I point at the knife. “Then, and only then, will your baby … and I … be safe.”

  I wait beside him as he makes the call and finishes the deal. Once he puts down the phone, he says, “It’s done.” The sound of defeat in his voice makes me sigh. “He sent you a copy of ownership via email.”

  I nod and slowly back away from him.

  However, Max charges toward me, grabs my arm before I can even attempt to strike, and forces me to drop the knife. He shoves me against the wall, my wrists pinned under his strong hands.

  “Why?” he says through gritted teeth. “Why did you have to do this?”

  “You know why …” I hiss.

  “Power? Is that all you want? Will anything ever make you happy enough?”

  My lips perk up. “This just might.”

  His forehead leans against mine in a furious battle of wits. “I just gave away my entire inheritance. My rights to my father’s company. All for a baby you wished to kill.” He places his hand on my belly and squeezes a little. “I’d rather die with you than let that happen.”

  I shake my head and smile. “And you honestly think I would kill her,” I muse.

  He frowns, grinding his teeth, whispering, “It was a bluff?”