Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Never, never, Victor.” I alternate from hard thrusts to pulling out, making Luxury crazy as she attempts to clench her walls around my cock.
Her only show of defiance.
I pull out, sliding my cum-soaked cock around her clit. I glide and caress until her teeth stab into my shoulder. The pain intensifies my pleasure and her torture. When it seems the air in her lungs has perished, I charge into Luxury so hard her breasts cuff her chin.
“Yes, yes, yes.” She grounds down on my dick.
My balls tease her arsehole with each hard pounding. “Say you’re mine.”
Luxury’s voice is deliciously husky and sultry as she cries, “I’m yours.”
I wrap my arms around her, settling deep inside of her quivering channel. “Forever,” I bite out.
“Yes, forever . . . I’m yours, Victor.”
Satisfied, my cock stabs savagely at her insides. Long, rapid thrusts send her lower back into an arch. Too many orgasms have left her body empty, her thighs slide loose from around my waist. I grip one and pound out my frustrations until her screeches fade.
“Alright, Luxury, your fucking heart’s beating out of your chest.”
A flush glows across her skin. I press a kiss to her adorable nose. “My enchanting Little One, listen up.”
Her breasts judder against me as she respires.
“Squeeze my fucking cock with your cunt. Make daddy cum, or I’ll fuck you into tomorrow.”
“I can’t . . .”
My fingers wind through her hair until I have the strands twisted tightly about my knuckles. “Do it.”
I capture Luxury’s mouth, pouring all my energy into a kiss—reviving her.
Her spasming cunt captures my entire cock as she climaxes around me. I surge against her, my own powerful orgasm funneling straight into the condom. It should be her body.
That’s my only regret. That my cum isn’t washing Luxury’s lovely cunt.
10
Victor
A few hours later, we’re opening the door to her bedroom after a quick shower. Luxury whispers a complaint about me ripping up her things as she starts to descend in a pair of jeans and a fuchsia blouse.
“I will purchase you more ugly sweats. As for the undergarments, you’ve been fully warned,” I reply.
“My dad might realize I’ve changed clothes.” Her gritted reply stops upon seeing Whitson seated on the couch in the living room.
“Dad,” she stammers. I grip her hand encouragingly. Only her facial expression gives us away.
Has he sat here since I went to console Luxury? The telly’s off. He’s looking off in the distance until she speaks. Finally, he turns to us, saying, “Now that you two are . . .” Whitson stops, clearing his throat. “On to a more pertinent subject, Luxury, you’re accompanying Victor to Arlington.”
Luxury snorts. “Arlington? Where . . . okay, Dad, so apparently, Arlington is . . .”
My duchy. “A parish in England,” I advise.
“I’d rather my daughter’s in the hands of a murderer who has no intentions of harming her.” As soon as said, Jonah scrutinizes me beneath beady eyes.
“I’ll most certainly ensure her safety with my life.”
Luxury gasps. “Dad, you’re aware of Victor’s . . . occupation? That’s fine, but stop being paranoid about Uncle—”
I cut in. “Luxury, do not minimize the situation. All damning evidence points to Dr. Charles Everhart.”
“Uncle Red?” Luxury gawks. “I still can’t believe you think he would do anything. Dad, you two are brothers.”
Her father’s hands tighten in his lap in a restricted rage. “That motherfucker is no brother of mine.”
“Okay, then he’s like Momma’s brother. He cared for her as much as you did. Still cares.”
Instinctively, I wait for Whitson’s retort. So far, Luxury’s tenacity has unearthed more than I could. The doctor’s a fucking genius, guarding his tongue at every turn. Vehemence transforms his eyes into black coals. He has more to say. Luxury hit a cord, but bullocks, he’s calculating his every word.
“I’ve known Uncle Red my entire life.” She settles onto the couch across from her father’s chair, attempting to take his tensed hands in her own, but her father won’t allow it. “Uncle Red’s patient and kind. He taught me t—”
“Ride a bike?” Dr. Whitson sniffs.
“That too. I was going to say the importance of placing family first. Not to answer a call at the dinner table.” Luxury bristles in resentment. “To look at someone when they’re talking to you. Uncle Red encouraged my interests in school. He was the first to visit you in the hospital last month—”
“He came?” Whitson’s eyebrows crinkle.
I attempt eye contact, but he’s evasive. The good old doctor has a secret. I need to speak with him privately.
“Yes, Dad.” Luxury looks back and forth at both of us.
“Lux, tell us, verbatim, what happened during Everhart’s hospital visit,” I ask, standing near the stairs and away from the floor-to-ceiling window where silk drapes now hang.
“No.” She holds her chin up, defiant. “If I’m being interrogated, it will be at the hands of Detective Caruso, and he never suggested . . . suggested . . . that.”