King of Lies (Empire of Lies 1)

He pressed his fingers against my lips. Then he tilted my chin up with his fingertips.

“The Four Seasons or The Waldorf Astoria?”

“Four Seasons.”

“Penthouse suite or sky suite?”

“Penthouse.”

He clasped my hand and led me to the alleyway that was next to his club. He pulled his keys out of his pocket, and the bright lights of his Jaguar flashed in the darkness.

A gentleman, he opened the door for me and waited until my seatbelt was secure before walking to his side of the car.

The drive to the hotel passed by in a hazy blur, and by the time we reached it, Michael was leading me through the doors of the penthouse suite.

He hung the ‘Do Not Disturb’ hanger on the double doors and made sure they were locked.

Pinning me to the spot with his gaze, he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his suit jacket. He took his time taking off his clothes—teasing me with his every move.

When he was down to his dress shirt, he took his time unfastening every button, and I gasped once his chest was completely bare.

His six-pack of abs led down to a beautifully carved “V,” but the grey and black tattoos that snaked around both sides of his torso took my fucking breath away.

Without saying a word, he pulled me against his chest and kissed the fuck out of me until my knees went weak under his sensuous assault.

“Ahhh…” I moaned against his mouth when he finally allowed me a few seconds to breathe.

Sliding his hand against the side of my dress, he grabbed the zipper and slowly pulled it down.

Staring into his captivating eyes as he took his time, I lifted my arms a bit. He smiled and pushed the dress down to the floor, the green fabric falling to the floor in a silk pool.

He unclasped the hooks of my strapless bra next and let it fall, then he kissed my forehead.

I fumbled for his belt buckle, and he let out a low laugh.

“Take your time, Meredith…”

Pulling a few condoms from his pocket, he waited for me to finish the job, running his fingers through my hair.

The moment his pants hit the floor, my jaw dropped as I caught sight of his cock.

It was at. least nine inches, thick as hell, and way too big to fit entirely into my mouth.

As if he could read my mind, he claimed my lips once more—making my knees weak all over again.

Lifting me up by my waist, he carried me into the living room and pressed my body against the windows. I let out a sigh as my ass hit the glass.

Using his hips to pin me still, he rolled a condom over his cock and slid into me all at once, giving me every inch of him. No restraint.

I cried out loudly as he pounded into me, as he hit a deep spot no man had ever hit before.

“Michael…” I said his name with each and every stroke. I attempted to slow him down, but it was no use. He was in control of our ride, and I was along for however long he wanted to drive.

I couldn’t help but gaze into his eyes as he fucked me, and he couldn’t help but gaze into mine.

My nails dug into his skin as the sound of our bodies slapping together echoed through the room, as he continued pounding into me mercilessly.

He said my name under his breath, and commanded me to wrap my legs around his waist a little tighter, to give him even more control.

I couldn’t.

My pussy was throbbing in pleasure, and I knew it was only a matter of seconds before I came apart in his arms.

“Meredith,” he said, his voice a bit more terse. “Meredith, tighten your legs around me. Now…”

Unable to follow his command, I shut my eyes as tremors began wracking their way through my body, as tremors began traveling up and down my spine.

Before I knew it, I was screaming at the top of my lungs, and experiencing the most intense orgasm I’d ever felt in my life.

Fuck…

I felt Michael gripping me harder, felt him pulling me onto his cock a few more times before finding his own release.

Slowly pulling out of me, he took his time setting me down on the floor. My body still shook from our sex.

I heard him whispering something, but I was lost in a daze.

Several minutes later, I felt him picking me up and carrying me over his shoulder. I felt him positioning me across his lap and running his fingers through my hair.

He trailed his palm against my back, using his fingers to outline the tattoo that wound down my spine, the vine of black roses with thorns that bore small grey cursive with my initials.

“You know that black roses signify death, right?” he asked.