The Bratva's Heir (Underworld Kings)

Her eager amateur blowjob is more pleasurable than cock sucking from any professional whore. She wants to please me desperately. She’s trying anything she can think of, pushing herself harder and faster to earn my touch on her pussy, to convince me to make her come.

“Time to wash out that dirty mouth,” I growl.

I ram my cock down her throat, pumping hard.

At the same time, I push two fingers into her and rub my index finger against her clit.

Clare lets out an anguished gurgling sound as she starts to come. I feel her pussy clenching and twitching around my fingers.

I unload my balls into her mouth, a hot rush of come directly down her throat. Clare doesn’t even seem to notice—she’s lost in the throes of her own orgasm, insensible to taste or sound or the need to breathe.

My whole body shakes as I keep coming, the longest orgasm I’ve ever experienced. It seems unending, wave after wave of pleasure pulsing through me as I accomplish exactly what I’d pictured in that prison cell.

Reality is so much better than fantasy.

I could never have pictured Clare so eager, so compliant, and so shamefully flushed as she finally sits up, wiping her mouth.

She’s embarrassed by how hard she came, and how she bent to my demands. She can’t even look me in the eye.

I pull her close against me, stroking her hair again.

“Don’t be ashamed, little bird,” I murmur in her ear. “You cannot fight me. See how good it feels to submit…”

And though she won’t answer me, though she won’t admit it out loud, I feel how her body relaxes against me, how she sinks into the warmth of my chest.

Chapter 12

Clare

Somehow, I’m back in my seat. Buckled. I look down at the fastened seat belt in a daze. Everything feels surreal.

I can still feel the fiery lash of leather across my ass and thighs, but already, the painful ache of the punishment he gave me has begun to fade to a warm flush.

I’m sure the way he brought me to orgasm had something to do with that.

He’s wrapped a bandage around the cut on his arm that’s already begun to heal, like he has some kind of superhuman strength. I, on the other hand, am still nursing my wounds.

“Is this what you do?” I ask in a low murmur. I try to keep the pout out of my voice.

I don’t know where we’re going, but this road isn’t familiar. Makes sense. Though I’m sure he’d love to drag me back to the sex club, he’s being targeted and can’t return to the same place twice.

“What do you mean?” he asks. It’s faded to dusk outside the window, a lightish gray blue with a melancholy edge. His large, rough hand—the same hand that made me climax just moments ago—comes to rest on my left thigh. He releases a breath. I wonder if he realizes he did.

“When you’re in a relationship. She defies you; you punish her. You dominate her. You make her climax. That’s how you bring her to heel.”

Such a funny expression, to bring someone to heel. I read it online once, and thought it bizarre, but for some reason it seems to fit quite well now.

Why are we talking about this? Why did I bring this up? I don’t want to talk about what he did with other woman any more than I want to feel that unrelenting bite of his belt again.

At least for now.

He smirks. I love that smirk.

“No.”

“Constantine, don’t lie to me. You’re better than that.”

“I told you, little bird, I have not lied to you. What I’m telling you is the truth. Have I dominated women? Yes.” The rough edge of his accent makes each word cut sharply, and for some reason they seem to have more emphasis that way.

He gives a shrug, before he takes a hard left and we ascend a small hill. “Have I spanked a woman before? Also, yes. I like things kinky, and I like to be the one in control. That much is likely clear to you.”

Ah, yeah. You could say that.

“But I don’t have relationships with women, Clare. So, no. You know Roxy and I were engaged for an arranged marriage with no wasted love. What we did here, me and you, was between us.” He pulls into a parking garage and cruises to a stop on the first floor in a space marked private parking only. There’s a contemplative look on his face, as if he wants to say something more, but can’t quite bring himself to do it.

He turns himself fully toward me, the full force of his gaze penetrating. “We’ve had a long few days. For one more night, we’re free from the hounds of hell at our heels, as it were.” He suppresses a sigh, but I note the weariness that crosses his features.