Twisted Game (Filthy Wicked Psychos, #1)

by Eva Ashwood

Sometimes the people you love turn your love against you, and it’s the most brutal weapon in the world.”

“Thank you.” It leaves my mouth in a whisper that still somehow sounds loud in the car.

“Don’t thank me. And don’t go thinking I’m a good man, Solnyshka. Spinning some kind of fucking fairy tale in your head.”

“You want to know what I really am?” he breathes, his face just inches from mine. “I’m not a fucking hero.”

“I’m nobody’s savior,” he bites out, his voice strained. “I’m a monster. And if you cross me, you’ll find out just what that means.”

“Ty izdayesh’ samyye krasivyye zvuki, kogda konchayesh’

I don’t know what the hell is going on with these men, but I’m realizing more and more that I’m in over my head. What is happening? Why am I so attracted to them? So drawn to them?

It’s Malice. And he’s not alone.

Her ass is cherry red from how hard Malice is pounding into her, his hips slapping against her body. He’s fucking her hard and savagely, his face twisted into a primal expression as he drives into her body again and again.

It’s just… so much. Intense and violent and raw. Clearly, Malice fucks the same way he does everything else, and now that I know that, I can never unknow it.

“Good,” he murmurs. “Because I have to admit, when I came home and saw you standing there between the two of them, I was jealous as hell.”

“I’ve been staring at your lips all night. I have to know if they taste as sweet as they look.”

“I knew you had a wild side,” he murmurs. “I like it. Have a good night, angel. Get some rest.”

Willow makes me want something that no one else ever has before.

But this? Willow? She feels like a drug.

Like something that’s going to wreck us all.

“Should I find out?” he murmurs. “Should I see if thinking about me fucking her makes you wet?”

“Yeah,” he muses. “I was right. If I wasn’t, you wouldn’t be so fucking soaked right now.”

“No one in this room knows that you’re about to come. No one but you and me. They don’t know how fucking slick you are, or how you’re grinding against my hand. They don’t know how fucking greedy you are.”

“It is my fucking business. Because you’re my business.”

“No, I’m not,” she says quietly. “I’m no one. I’m nobody’s business.”

“You’re wrong about that,” I murmur gruffly. “This right here? That’s my business.” My hand moves to another small bruise on her neck, a dark pink spot that could’ve come from a finger or a thumb digging into her skin. “This? My business.” I drag my fingers lower, to a spot on her chest just above where the towel is wrapped around her. “So is this.”

“Someone hurts you? Someone touches you? That’s my fucking business.”

Fuck, I need to know what she tastes like.

“He’ll pay for that. He shouldn’t have done it. Do you want me to kiss you and make it better?”

I hope she can feel it. I want her to feel fucking everything. I feel like I’m starving, so fucking hungry for her.

“That’s right, Solnyshka,” I mutter, my voice muffled. “Scream for me.”

Even her scars make her fucking gorgeous, like no one I’ve ever seen before.

Something about hearing her say my name like that, desperate and needy, makes me feel wild. I’m almost fucking feral from the desire that beats through my body.

The only reason I went down on her was to break down her resistance and get her to tell me the truth. But even as I leave her apartment, I know that’s a lie.

At least these three men are monsters who don’t bother disguising who they are.

“Malice shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

“Of course he should have.” “Why?”

“Because you’re our responsibility. And we don’t let people hurt what’s ours.”

“Victor, why are you cleaning my room?”

“Because I’m tired of looking at it. It’s always been a mess, but this is too much.”

“We need to get the girl here. Now. She has to be under our watch all the time. It’s the only way we can be sure no one can get to her and use her to find us.”

“Where am I going to stay?”

“We don’t have an extra bedroom, so you’ll have to sleep in one of our rooms.”

“So choose who you want to stay with, and deal with it.”

“Ransom,” she finally says.

Ransom looks at me like I’m beautiful, and that makes my stomach drop in a funny way.

Fuck it. It’s better this way. The more she hates me, the easier it will be to keep telling myself I hate her too

“Give it up, Mal. She straight up called you out on that last night. We haven’t killed her by now, so it’s clearly not an option. We need to stop bringing it up, and you”—he cocks a brow at me—“need to stop waving guns in her face. It scares her.”

“She’s not as fragile as she looks,”

“She’s a distraction. We’ve got shit to do, things to be focusing on, and we can’t afford to let her throw us off more than she already has. So we have to agree that none of us are going to fuck her.”

“No, that isn’t what I mean. I don’t understand why I like them. Your scars are… chaotic. Disorderly. But for some reason…”

“You know, you look so sweet and innocent on the outside,” I say, lowering my voice a bit as I step closer to where she’s perched on the bike. “But I still see that wild streak in you. Maybe you want to be a bad girl. Maybe that’s who you are at heart.”

“You’re right. Maybe you’re not a knight,” I whisper finally. “But maybe… maybe I don’t need a white knight. Maybe I need something darker.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Solnyshka,” he murmurs. “You say all that shit about wanting a dark