Indebted (A Kingpin Love Affair 1)

“Then I’ll just do it myself…” She lunges forward, as if she is going to do something. Except I am faster and more experienced when it comes to fighting. If that’s what she wants, she doesn’t stand a chance.

I grab her, my touch gentle. She struggles against me, her elbow coming to land against my stomach. It doesn’t affect me, though. I have been shot at, punched, kicked, and beaten many-a-time.

“Stop,” I demand, pushing her back onto the bed. She squirms even more, as if she thinks she can actually get away. She needs to stop—she is making me hard with every scrape of her thigh against my cock.

Since she won’t stop, I decide to take matters into my own hands. I push my weight onto her, which in turn pushes my cock against her thigh. A gasp leaves her lips as her heart races under her shirt. I can hear it even without being against her chest.

“Get off of me!” she cries out. It sounds like a cross between a need and a hate. It’s as if she wants me in that moment, but at the same time wants me to go away. If that is the case, I completely understand.

“I know you want it. You want me as much as I want you. You want my cock inside your tight pussy, don’t you?” I push my arousal against her again, thrusting my hips in an upward motion.

She shakes her head no, but with every small thrust, she sighs as if it alleviates some of the pressure deep within.

Her eyes darken, and her tongue dips out onto her bottom lip. She wants me. I know it, and she knows it. It is getting there that is going to be the hardest part.

“Let me fuck you… Let me satisfy all those desires deep inside that pretty little head of yours.” My hands caress her as I leave a kiss against her neck.

“You’re demented,” she hisses. She is on the edge, at the point where she wants it but she doesn’t. I just need to give her that last push into wanting…

“Yes, I fucking am,” I murmur against her ear as I suck it into my mouth. I hear her cry of pleasure, and I’ll be damned if my heart doesn’t speed up a little bit.

“This is wrong…” she utters between pants. I know why she thinks it is wrong, but I don’t care. She will have to understand and learn if she ever plans to make it in this life.

“Nothing is wrong. It’s merely what you think is right and wrong that has you confused.” I push her down, parting her legs with my own. Devouring her neck and ear, I wait for her to say the final words.

I may be a bastard, a ruthless killer even, but I am not one for taking women against their wills. There is always a tight, warm pussy that wants my cock. There is no need to take when it can be given by others.

She shudders, her hips gyrating against my own. She whimpers again, her eyes opening. They shine brightly back at me as I slide my hand down to her sweatpants, cupping her there. Her head falls back, and her eyes close for a brief second.

“We can’t,” she states, fighting against it. I will admit she is strong, but I am stronger.

“Then I’ll taste you… I’ll have you begging to ride my cock…” I murmur in her ear as I pull myself off of her. Gripping the hem of her shirt, I pull it off in one swift movement. Her pants follow suit, and she lies before me in nothing but a black thong.

“It was wrong. What you did was wrong.” Her words are real, and the force of them stop me dead in my tracks.

“I never said my actions were right. In my world, that is what happens when you don’t pay a debt.” I whisper against her skin. She smells completely delectable, and I am holding back from taking a bite of her.

I bend down to press my lips against hers when I hear a throat clear behind me. “Sir… You’re needed upstairs. There has been a break in.” Mack’s voice hits my ears, but it takes a moment before what he says registers in my mind. Shit.

“I’ll be right up,” I respond, clearing my throat. I’m flustered, and as I look down at Bree, I see she is too. At least I’m not alone in the need for pleasure.

“I need to go up there and see what the problem is.” Her eyes search mine as if she’s looking for something, like a missing piece to who I am. I’ve seen many women look at me with that same look, but most of the time it disgusts me. Disgust isn’t something I feel right now, though.

“Okay…” Her voice is meek.

“Stay here. I will come for you later.” Pulling myself off of her takes every ounce of my will power, and it’s even worse when I come to a standing position and my cock is aching painfully in my pants while she’s just lying there as if she’s on the menu for dinner.

“You aren’t releasing me?” Her eyes plead.

“We’ll talk when I come back,” I promise, walking to the door and closing it behind me. Her warm eyes are on me the whole time, and I know she’s down. She’s sad, broken, and confused and leaving her here is the last thing I want to do, but in the grand scheme of things, I haven’t a fucking clue as to what to do with her.

I take the stairs two at a time, and at the top, Mack greets me to give me a report.

“What happened?” I furiously demand. I’m back in mob boss mode.

“Someone jumped the fence in the back yard. The silent alarm went off,” Mack explains, his eyes never leaving mine.

“To the office. I can’t believe you weren’t watching the fucking cameras,” I growl. There should be no reason to get me; I train these men to deal with these issues.