Scandalous Prince (Mafia Royals 2) - Page 78

“You always were so good with words,” I grumbled and swiped a tear from under my eye. “Is that how you got so much action?”

His grin was lopsided as he shrugged. “I got action in order to forget about the only girl I wanted to bend over the table every time we had family dinner. I don’t think you realize how many fantasies I’ve had about just your mouth or pulling your hair just to see you gasp. And now I get you for one night, and you can’t say no. I get you for the first time without lies, masks, without wondering who you loved more, Valerian or Breaker. Tonight, I’m just me, and I’m going to fuck the hell out of you.”

Breaker would never talk to me like that because he had known he’d get slapped.

But I liked it.

I liked it way too much.

And suddenly I was reminded of the time he’d spanked me, first the anger, then the embarrassment and then the need for more pain mixed with the pleasure he promised.

“You can try to hide behind that defiant lift of your chin and your perfection, but I know something else nobody does.” He started to circle me as I tensed under his perusal, and then he stopped behind me, grabbing the side of my neck with his hand and pulling me back against him, his fingers digging into my skin lightly as he whispered in my ear. “Violet Abandonato likes to get dirty. Tell me.”

I swayed back against him, my eyes unfocused as his hands moved to my soft blue cotton shirt and jerked it over my head, causing my hair to fan out around my naked shoulders.

I had no bra on.

He trailed one finger down my neck and then across my ribs toward my jeans. Both hands moved to my hips as he held me in front of him. I could feel his hard length throb against my ass, even through his jeans. He was ready. I moved my hips against him.

He bit out a curse as my mouth parted, needing to taste him but not wanting to beg him for it.

“It will always be you, Vi. Only you,” he whispered, and then he was almost violently pulling my jeans down to my ankles. I stepped out of them and stood still, clad in a pair of black silk underwear, topless, waiting for his next move.

But he did nothing.

He just held me against him again, this time, I could hear his heavy breathing, I could feel his restraint.

And I wanted him to snap.

I wanted him to take me.

And I was too afraid to ask.

But the longer I stood there with his arms wrapped around me, pinning me against his body, the more intensely mine pulsed with need, making it impossible to stand still.

I shook with it.

And there we stood.

My back to his front.

No words were spoken.

And then his teeth tugged at my right earlobe, his lips wet as he spoke against my ear in Russian. I had no idea what he said, but for some reason, it made me hot, because it sounded hot. I was so screwed when it came to him, literally.

“Beg.”

“No.”

“Beg.” He tugged harder, “Your time’s running out. If this is really our last night, I’m going to make it so memorable that you can’t help but think about me every second of every day, that you physically hurt for my touch, that you think of my fingers inside you, you think of my mouth sucking you, my tongue devouring you, my dick filling you…”

I let out the breath I’d been holding, my voice was shaky. “Please.”

I almost whimpered when a ripping noise had my underwear falling to my feet in a flutter, my ass bared to him, my entire vulnerable body bared to him. And then he was flipping me around, ducking his head and my legs wrapped around his face.

Down I went.

Down he went.

I fell across the bed, and his mouth managed to stay lodged between my legs as he gave one brutal swipe of his tongue. But then he drew back and said, “Not good enough.”

I clenched the sheets in my hands, desperate to grab onto something. “Please!”

“Please, what?” He had a full view of all of me, and he looked like a man who’d just won the lottery.

I gulped at his full mouth, glistening from me, from what he had done to me just by standing behind me. It would be embarrassing if I wasn’t in almost physical pain to have him keep going.

“Please.” I locked eyes with him. “Valerian.”

Eyes wild with a feral glint, he lowered his head, and I nearly lost consciousness as he swiped his tongue, then used his fingers, finding every single sensitive spot that could drive a woman insane.

“More, please more!” Maybe begging wasn’t such a bad idea if this was the outcome over time?

Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Mafia Royals Crime
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