Dark Queen - Page 56

“It has to be believable, little ballerina. Real.”

The nickname he uses for me sends a warmth blooming in my chest. I hate myself for being so easily softened.

This man has been an asshole to me. I should hate him. But amongst the hate is a lust and desperate need to stay here, stay with Swan, with him.

“I can role play, make it believable. Eventually, who knows? It may become the real deal.” I jut my chin forward, showing confidence.

“How many men have you fucked?” he asks, and I blanch, the question catching me off guard. Clint’s face forms in my mind, and I fight the urge to shudder.

“What does that matter?”

“Because it matters.” There’s light amusement in his tone. He wants me ruffled. “How many boys have you let between those thighs? How often do you seek pleasure?” He chuckles when I glare at him. The sound tightens my stomach. It’s stunning.

“Pleasure doesn’t have to come from men fucking me,” I retort. “I prefer to see to my own needs. Too many disappointments in that area.”

Surprise flashes in his eyes. “And yet you want to get married?”

“Not want. It’s an arrangement that will suit us both.”

“I’ll be fucking you if your finger wears my ring—and I’m no little boy. I like it rough. I’ll want to coat you in my cum every chance I get. Make you sore for days on end. There’s not a hole in your body I won’t try to stick my cock in. Chains, cuffs, dildos, whips—I will use them all to bring you to surrender. How do you feel about that?”

The room closes in around me, his form seeming to expand, the ego an entity of his own.

He’s trying to get me flustered, make me back out, but all he’s done is excite me.

“So, added perks we both can enjoy. Win, win.” I swallow, trying not to pass out from the need inside me.

“Show me,” he says, stepping closer to me.

My brow pinches. “Show you what?”

“Show me how you pleasure yourself. That’s what you said you do, right?” A flush burns my skin. “You want to prove you’re mature and able to play your part, prove it.”

Bastard.

He tilts his lips into a smug smile, a gleam in those impossible blue eyes. Lifting his drink to his lips, he says, “Well?”

Has he not been in the room for the last hour? I’m not shy.

My arousal is leaving a wet spot on his desk right now.

His belt has my ass imprinted on it for fuck’s sake.

I swallow down the disobedient girl inside me and call on the girl who wants to be his whore. I’ll gladly let him fuck me until I can’t breathe his name anymore, then let him resuscitate me to fuck me all over again.

Standing, I walk to his cabinet and take the bottle of whiskey, downing some of the contents while watching him.

The amber liquid stirs a warm burn down my throat. I grab a handful of ice and drop them in his glass. “You’ll need this,” I tell him, smirking.

I take my position back on his desk, and he takes the seat opposite, getting an eye level view of my bare pussy as I tug at my dress until it sits just above my thighs.

His eyes widen, jaw tensing. He didn’t think I’d do it. Screw him. The alcohol loosens my limbs and my mind, and I give him a show.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Luca

She kicks off her shoes and slides her bare feet up my calves before resting them on my thighs.

The ice in my glass chinks, slowly dissolving in the liquor.

My thighs spread, opening hers further, causing her pussy lips to part slightly, giving me a view of her glistening pink cunt.

It’s pretty, just like expected. It takes everything I have not to lean in and devour her.

I swallow thick, willing my cock not to rip through my slacks and impregnate her.

It empowers her seeing what she does to me.

She’s right, she is wicked.

I don’t think I’ve ever met a match more perfect for me.

She came undone under the punishment of my belt, wanted more. The red welts on her skin elicited a drop of precum to soak the tip of my cock.

She leans back on one hand, keeping eye contact. Slipping her free hand down the front of her body, she bundles up the fabric of her dress, hissing when her fingers meet the heated skin of her cunt.

They slide through her folds with ease. She’s soaked and in desperate need of fucking.

The sound of her slickness as she pushes two fingers inside her almost buckles me.

Both our breaths catch, and she bites down on her lip, pushing her hips into her hand, moaning.

“I feel so fucking good, Luca. Listen to how wet you make me,” she teases. “I’m thinking of your juicy fat cock right now, fucking me, stretching me, making me a bad, bad girl.”

Tags: Ker Dukey Erotic
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