Cruel Seduction (Underground Kings 2)

The lower simmer of flames that have been dancing between us since she got here combusts into a wild blaze. It’s as if kerosene has drenched us and the drop of the towel is the match that lights the fuse.

Now, I am burning for her.

My hands land on her hips and push her against the wall, shoving my knee between her legs. “Gabby, you have no idea how much I want this,” I say, swallowing to coat my dry throat. “But you need time—”

“I’ve spent enough time away from you.” She leans forward, her lip inching closer to mine, her breath slipping through the crack of my lips to give me the oxygen I need to comprehend everything happening.

My left hand slides up her body, slowly; I’m unsure if she really wants this. I can’t let it go too far. Fuck, this might already be too far. My hand curves around her breast and she whimpers.

She fucking whimpers for me.

I growl, low and deep in my throat with how she responds to me. I make sure not to touch her neck; the bruises are still there, and I know that is a sensitive area. I cup her jaw and bend forward, pausing for a moment to lick my lips and decide if this is really the time to taste her like I’ve always wanted.

When will there be a perfect time? There won’t be. It’s up to the couple to make the moment perfect, and every second she breathes, nothing could get better. My right hand digs into her hip, and I press my lips against hers. I want to devour her, but not right now—not for our first kiss, the one that has been building for nearly a decade.

It is slow, a bit uncertain, tender, and soft. I tease the tip of her tongue with mine, then I break the kiss, letting out an unstable breath.

She does the same.

Perfection. I need more.

Her kiss is more than I’ve ever dreamed about. It's soft, eager, and warm, like feeling the sun after being cold for a far too long. Gabriella thaws me out, boils my blood, and melts me.

I smash our mouths together again and she moans. Eagerly, like I am starved for her sounds, I eat them up, swallowing them whole as the kiss turns from slow and steady, to hot and passionate. My right hand skims up her body and cups her breast. I play with her nipple, and the touch makes her rip her mouth from mine and cry out.

Gabriella rocks against my leg, and nothing turns me on more than seeing her use me for her pleasure. I dip down and suck her bottom lip into my mouth and let it go with a soft plop. I am bewitched with how my fingers roll her nipple. The peak is hard and elongated, begging for me to wrap my lips around it and suck it until that bud is sore.

Her hand rubs along my erection and pre-come drools from the tunnel of my tip, wetting the denim material I am commando under. My sack draws tight, and I am embarrassingly close to coming. My hand snakes out and wraps around her wrist and pins her hands above her head. I steal another kiss from her swollen mouth, and she squirms and rocks against me.

“I want to touch you,” she says, ending her sentence on a soft moan.

I shake my head and kiss along her jaw, plucking her earlobe into my mouth as she uses my knee to rub her clit. “This is about you. Not me.” My hand journeys in the valley of her tits, her skin a golden spun silk. I appreciate her beauty. Gabriella is a mix of sin and goddess. Aphrodite in disguise. “I want to show you that you’re in control here, baby. You’ve been taken advantage of for far too long. It’s your turn to use.”

“I don’t want to use you,” she mutters in the nook of my neck, dashing soft kisses along the vein that jumps with my heartbeat. “I just want us to finally be, Sebastian.”

“We will be,” I reassure her, hiding my face in her shoulder as her body arches. The space between her thighs is a furnace. I can feel her clit rubbing against me, back and forth, the swollen bundle igniting sparks in her body. Every tremble shakes the muscles in her legs, and with every sweep of her hips, her movements grow desperate, fast, and frantic.

The beautiful light bronze skin is flush, darkening to a hue reserved for Egyptian royalty. She is forever kissed by the sun, and no matter how much I kiss her, I can never satisfy my need, and the glowing empowerment held in her flesh makes sure I stay hungry for her.

Her nails dig into my biceps, and her eyes squeeze shut as she tilts her head back. I can’t decide where to look. Her face, how it is drawn up in pleasure? Or the glistening sweat trailing down her neck that I want to drink? Her perk tits, how they slightly bounce from her sliding her hips across my knee? The way her stomach rolls, and her ribs press against her skin with every gyrate? Or, how about the sweetness creaming my jeans? I can see the pink hood sticking to my leg, a tiny flash of the sensitive, erotic hood that hides her clit.

Fucking hell, I want to get to my knees, wrap her legs around my head, and feast. I moan at the thought, my orgasm fast approaching. I’ve had no physical stimulation, not really. I haven’t come without my hand in seven years. Now that I have Gabriella naked in front of me, my leg between her apex, and I can smell her nectar and hear her cries of pleasure, I am going to fill my jeans with come.

I haven’t done that since I realized my cock wasn’t just for taking a piss.

“Sebastian,” my name is a high-pitch squeak in her throat. “Oh, god, Sebastian!” Her hips stutter, and I lick my lips when her body tenses. She is about to orgasm. “Kiss me,” she pleads. “Please, God, kiss me.”

“Never have to ask, Gabby. Never.” I squeeze the apples of her ass and pull her harder against me, robbing her lips before she can take another inhale. Our tongues slide and rock, twirl and lick. Her mouth is sweet, minty from toothpaste, and when my hand buries in her hair, it’s cold to the touch and wet from the shower.

She breaks the kiss and cries out, taking deep gulps of air, and arching her back as her orgasm hits her. Wetness soaks my thigh. My skin is wet from her come. I tighten my fist in her hair to keep myself from shoving my hand between her legs and coating my fingers with her juices so I can taste her.

Witnessing her fall apart is the best experience of my life. I enjoy watching her chase her pleasure. It alters me. If I ever want something with so much ferocity that I’ll kill for it, I’ll still want her more.

I slam my palms against the wall and empty myself into my jeans, come dripping down my thigh, and when her hand strokes down my back, another spasm jerks my cock. “Gabriella,” I groan as the last bit of come drips from me.

We sag against each other, her naked body a quivering mess in my arms as we try to catch our breaths. I bend my head and kiss her again, not getting enough of those lips that I’ve been deprived of for way too long.

Her lips taste of salt. Her entire body is covered in a sheen of sweat. She’ll have to shower again. The kiss is lazy; our lips have no real direction of movement, just gentle slides back and forth.