Pretty Sinner (The Oligarchs)

Kaspar kept me safe and cared for me in a way nobody ever had before. I remembered the beginning of our relationship back at Blackwoods before he killed Alice. We were a good fit. We laughed together, we joked and had fun. There was incredibly chemistry buoyed by good conversation, compatible ideas and upbringings, and a silly, fun, incredible friendship. He was the man I always dreamed of when I closed my eyes at night.

Up until he strangled my roommate.

And saved my life.

I moaned into his kiss. I was lost, lost, lost. Spiraling and dizzy. Blacking out. Dropping down. He pulled me to the couch and pushed me down roughly. I stared at him with parted, tingling lips. My tongue was numb. My heart tried to rip its way free from my chest. He stood above me, towering and brutal, then knelt down with his hands on my thighs, leaning close.

“You know I’ll give you whatever you want, don’t you?” He whispered in my ear and sounded pained. “I’d do anything you asked. If it was within my power to grant, I’d grant it. I’d kill whoever, burn whatever, rip apart the world if it would make you happy.” He kissed me again, longing and pained. “But I won’t murder your sister. Not until you’re sure.”

I grabbed his hair and pulled.

He grunted, teeth clenching.

I tried to hurt him. I succeeded. He didn’t push me away.

He meant what he said. If what I wanted was to cause him pain—he’d let me.

I slacked my grip, but didn’t release.

“I hate that you’re right. That’s the worst part of all this. I want her dead and I don’t want her dead. What I really need is my sister back.”

“I’m afraid you won’t ever get it.”

“No, I don’t think I will, either.” I kissed him and bit his lip. “This life takes so much from us. Why does everyone want it?”

“They don’t know how bitter is tastes from the inside.”

“Do I taste bitter to you?”

“No, love. You taste sweet. You’re the only sweet thing in my life.”

“But everyone else is wrong.”

“Yes, everyone else is wrong.”

I sighed and pressed my forehead against his. “I hate this.”

“I know. There’s no easy answer.”

“If we leave Erin alone, she’ll rip Darren to shreds and start her own family. She’ll be a nightmare.”

“And if we kill her, you’ll have to live with your sister’s blood on your hands. Could you do that?”

He fisted my hair and pulled my head back before I could answer. His lips found my throat and kissed as his free hand tugged my shirt free. I let him undress me and reveled in the way his eyes took in my flesh. He drank me like a man dying of thirst. He was insatiable. I loved him for it.

He kissed my breasts, my chin, my ears. His tongue was a flower between my legs. I moaned and leaned forward, pressing my breasts to his muscular chest, then reached down to unbuckle his belt.

I wanted him. I needed him now.

There was one thing that could take my mind from the wreck of my life.

He grunted as I took his pants off. His cock was already hard. It strained against his boxer briefs, struggling to reach my eager cunt.

I was dripping wet and crazy with want.

When did this become so easy?

Throwing myself into his arms.

Accepting his pleasure.

He pulled my hair again. Harder this time. Painful, insistent. He unhooked my bra and teased my nipples with his teeth and tongue. He bit my collarbone as he shoved my legs wide and unbuttoned my jeans. I lifted my ass while he slid them off, watching as my legs were revealed.

My soaking pussy. My damp panties.

He kissed my inner thigh, moving up until he shoved aside my underwear and began to lick me, lapping me up. Tongue along my slit, rolling among my folds, moving in tight circles along my nubby clit. He sucked me and did his work, slid his fingers inside, fucked me with them.

I was exposed, naked. I was all his. I could see the city unfurl out beyond the windows, the lights in the buildings coming on, as he fucked me with his fingers and kissed my lips. He made me taste myself and I loved it, the filthy bastard.

“You like that I’m a caged beast, don’t you?” His voice was a harsh whisper. “I know you see the way I stare at you.” His fingers pumped faster. Pleasure rocked as he used his thumb to rub against my clit. My breasts shook with each new breath. “You bask in my need. You love that I love you.”

“God, yes, I do,” I moaned, tilting my head back. Distantly, I was aware that he’d admitted it—that word love, ringing like a bell.

“You can’t get enough. And the truth is, I can’t either. I want you to glow for me, love. I want you to get high every time my tongue finds your delicious little cunt. I want you living on the edge, never sure when I’ll take you, but always ready. You’ll exist for me, a beautiful gift, and I’ll unwrap you. I won’t be gentle, but I will always make it feel good.”