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“Roark… I’m going to… I can’t…” she pants each word. “Please… Oh God… Please.”
I suck her sweet nipple into my mouth then bite down adding a hint of pain that causes her whole body to shudder beneath me. Drawing her ever closer to orgasm.
“Are you going to cum for me, Princess?”
“Yes… no… yes…”
I chuckle darkly at her response, loving how lost to me she is. I thrust into her with renewed force, rotating my hips each time to draw out her pleasure. Her pussy flutters against me and I know she’s close. I grip her hip with my free hand, slightly changing the angle so that I’m hitting her g-spot with every thrust. Her sweet lips part in a silent scream as her pussy clenches down on me in release. I let go of my control and ride her to completion, filling her with my seed. Marking her in a way that only we will know.
Afterwards, we share a long shower together and unable to resist her wet skin as it slides against mine, I fuck her against the wall, ignoring the fact that she’s probably sore. I’m enough of a bastard that now that I’ve had her I just want more, consequences be damned. I take her on a quick tour of the house, showing her the main attractions--including the natural pool that’s landscaped to look like a rock-lined lake bowl in the middle of a hill behind the property. I also show her the huge library that takes up the entire third and fourth floors, complete with ladders on rails that slide along the perimeter of the room and grant access to the higher levels of the room. I show her my art collection, which houses several pieces of art thought to be lost, including Rembrandt’s Storm on the Sea of Galilee and Raphael’s Portrait of a Young Man.
When I bring her to my training room, she immediately goes to the rack where a set of training Blade’s rest. She hefts one up, raising her eyebrows at me. “Is this real?” she asks.
“It doesn’t shoot bullets and the blade is dull,” I say. “They are for practicing.”
“Oh…” she says thoughtfully. “Would you show me how to use one?”
I laugh. “What for?”
She glares. “Do I have to have a reason?”
I shrug, moving to take one of the weapons. “Good point. Fine. You want to learn, I can show you a few tricks.”
She jogs to the center of the ring, hiking up her dress as she runs and looking adorably awkward while she holds the training gun like it’s a poisonous snake. She points it at me and does a sad impression of impersonating gunshots.
“What do you need me for?” I ask with a grin. “Seems like you already have this down.”
“Show me how to use the pointy part,” she says.
“Well. Using the pointy part is straightforward. The tricky part is finding a way to get it close enough to your opponent without getting cut yourself. That’s where this comes in,” I say, tapping her free hand. “Your free hand is for grappling. In duels, it’s usually the grappling that determines the winner or loser, not fancy work with the Blade. Here, try to use your weapon on me.”
She flashes a mischievous smile before her eyes turn serious and she starts to inch toward me. She’s pointing the Blade at me like she plans to shoot my head off instead of trying to cut me, so I easily weave inside her reach, pinning her Blade arm to my side and using my free hand to hug her to my body. While I have her close, I steal a quick kiss, pulling away with a smirk.
“Hm,” she says. “So if someone comes at me with one of these, all I have to do is hug them and then kiss them? Should I use tongue?”
Even though I know she’s only kidding, the idea of her kissing someone else makes my stomach burn with acidic heat. “You shouldn’t kiss anyone unless you want me to put a bullet in them,” I say.
She raises her eyebrows. “It’s almost like I have the power to execute people just by kissing them, then. Hmm.”
“Don’t toy with me, Elizabeth,” I say warningly.
She grins. “Fine. Show me some more moves so I don’t have to use the kiss of death.”
“Speaking practically, if a man ever really did come at you with a Blade, he would underestimate you. Give a man a blade and a defenseless target with orders to kill, and nine times out of ten he’ll attack like this.” I demonstrate by pulling my arm back and thrusting the weapon straight toward her chest, stopping a few inches from her skin. “It’s the simplest kill, and it’s the most lethal. But it also is a weak position.”
“Doesn’t look weak,” she notes.
