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)
“Do you seek an apology?”
My mouth tenses. Yes!
“I have done nothing to warrant an apology,” Victor assures.
My head cocks to the side as I stare at this deranged man. “You sure? Are there any more women?”
“Yes. In fact, there are thousands of females in all of Arlington and trillions in the world.”
“Victor,” my tone lengthens in warning, “Madeline. Now Angelina. These aren't just . . .” I try to come up with the right words. They aren't buzzards from a one-night stand. Madeline claimed to be his fiancée. Angelina was too bold for my taste.
“Little One,” Victor begins to come toward me.
My eyes roll away from his calming cobalt ones. Victor turns the chair around, and he crouches at eye level.
“I haven't seen Angelina in ages. She means nothing, never did.”
“Well, she didn't carry herself like this was a whim.” I huff as my response. “What about Madeline?”
“That was an arrangement—I will not repeat myself again.”
“Okay.” My mouth tugs into a frown. “Is this an arrangement? Will I not have gotten the memo like Angelina and Madeline? I guess this is where I insert all my queries because you’ll lead me on until? Until when, Victor?”
He hefts a chuckle. “You’re so bloody cheeky, spirited even. I love that, Little One.”
“And I love you,” I snarl, hating the pull, the tug, the fucking hold he has over my body. Loathing how I was jealous of a woman in two point two seconds flat—abhorred Angelina before I knew the bitch’s name. “I love a man that I hardly know. It’s fucking infuriating.”
Victor’s hands frame my face with a gentle, firm touch. “Ahhh, infuriated? Shall we redirect those emotions down a proper course?”
“You have the madman glint in your eye.”
“Yes, the possessive royal, I am. You threatened! When you feel cornered, in the bloody clutch, you threaten to leave, Lux. Can’t have that, can we?”
After all the incensed words and his sharp, clenched jaw, Victor’s tongue tastes of sweet poison, running over my lips. He doesn’t pry them apart.
No coercion.
No pain.
Just a delicious dose of temptation.
“I’m yours, but are you truly mine, huh? Huh? You make me weak,” I murmur as his mouth trails the mounds of my breasts. The heat radiating from Victor’s body is intoxicating. I’m ready to overthrow my inhibitions.
“I make you stronger.”
Voice a hollow croak, I retort, “I asked Monica how you were the Duke of Arlington. I asked Burt about the guestroom. I’ll be damned if I have to google my man this time. But these are all questions that—”
Victor’s lips run possessively over my nipple, sending rivulets of desire quaking through my channel.
I pout. “Stop. We’re talking.”
“I bloody can’t stop, Luxury.”
“Pl—”
“I haven’t licked your other nipple yet. Haven’t tasted your pussy, either.”
“Vic—”
An ardent tongue lashes my other nipple, popping it into his mouth as his hands lightly squeeze my hips. Victor moves to his knees, resting my thighs on his shoulders, calves draped over his back. Deft hands strike my labia, fingertips brushing the folds wide to reveal my clit.
Burying his face in my pussy, Victor takes deep breaths like a man on his first trip to the sea.
My pussy walls convulse, imploring him to impale me to the core. A cloud hazes over my eyes as my juices drip down into my ass, and I quiver in delight. Just as immense pleasure tips me over the edge, pain bites into my clit.
Tears form in my eyes.
“You . . . you . . .” Shocked, I glimpse the clamp squeezing my erect clit. Victor’s mouth plants onto mine, claiming the sputtering gasp.
His fragrant mouth captures my cry. Victor brings me down into a straddling position, legs instinctively wrapped around him as he sits on the ground. Tears fall from my eyes as I bury my face in the crook of his shoulder. Body shaking, I sigh like an addict thrown into the euphoric high of her first hit as he slams into me.
Victor’s all the support I have.
I need.
I’ll ever desire.
No other would comfort me the way he has, hurt me the way he has, and is, now. No other would compare to him. Wanting him to return my every affection is the worst feeling, worse than the clamp tightening around my hard pearl. But being in his arms, even if I’m uncertain of tomorrow or the day after or the day after that, is worth the frightening, fearful, exhilarating experience.
My cries of ecstasy dissolve into mews. Victor’s cock pumps inside of me. Torrents of heat erupt deep in my channel, and the friction of the clamp bites into my clit, washing me anew in ecstasy.
His lips find my forehead.
Torturing me by way of applying the pussy clamp wasn’t my punishment.
Reminding me how much I love him and how he has yet to return my affections―that is my punishment.