With K still struggling against me, I head for the bathroom instead of the bed I planned to subdue her in. The water that pumps out of the showerhead when I switch on the faucet is fucking freezing, however, it does little to weaken the hardness of my cock. I’ve never seen something so erotic in my life. K is half the size of West, and a shit ton shorter, yet she was up in his face, ruling her monarchy like a real-life motherfucking princess.
“You showed him, didn’t you, K? You proved only real duchesses rule their kingdoms with dignified strength.” I step deeper into the shower until the water flattening her golden locks removes the gunk on her face she only wears on special occasions. “Nuh-uh,” I say on a growl when her hands shoot up to remove the smears of black mascara rolling down her cheeks. “I like you grubby. Messy. Real.” I bite on her lips for each of my words, loving how the roughness of my nips switches the gleam in her eyes from murderous to needy in less than a nanosecond. “My duchess doesn’t need gimmicks to be regal. She just needs to be strong.” The fire in her eyes I’ve admired since day one shines brightly during the last half of my comment. Desire has surpassed her wish to kill. Just like me, there’s only one addiction she’s yet to overcome. Me.
It’s proven without a doubt when her hands drop to the belt in my trousers. I’m not wearing jeans like the night I stole her virginity. With Nikolai willing to put on a monkey-suit for Justine, I backed up his campaign with a pair of slacks and a button-up shirt. He can keep the vest and tie, though. Not even the marriage celebrant telling me it’s tradition to get married while wearing a bowtie got me over the line. K likes my crudeness, so who am I to take it away from her?
“Slow down, Duchess. You’re with kid.” My fucking God you have no idea how good that felt to say. I wasn’t shitting my pants when I bought one of each pregnancy test at the drug store. I was doing everything in my power not to fall to my knees and pray like a soft cock.
Dok is a rare good one in this industry. He took care of K the best he could, but when certain issues extended outside his perimeter of knowledge, he hooked us up with another doctor—a female one. Although she was sympathetic for what K had been through, not all her news was good. I could fix K’s self-worth and mental stability, but I couldn’t do sweet fuck all for her insides. Dr. Laura was so convinced K would never get pregnant, she didn’t rib us like Dok when K’s contraceptive pill went untouched for months on end.
My focus returns to the present when the heat of K’s cunt wraps around my cock’s head. She’s so impatient, she didn’t bother removing her panties. She just pulled them to the side like a hungry little nymph.
“Nuh-uh,” I say again when K wiggles in my arms, wordlessly requesting for me to loosen my grip so she can impale herself on my cock. “Tell me you want my cock first and for how fucking long you want it, ‘cause your every wish is my command, Duchess.”
“Prosím,” she replies in her sexy little accent as her eyes rise to mine, forever aware my dick will never be inside of her unless she proves she’s not close to tiptoeing toward the dark. “Two.”
“Two what, K? Two minutes, two hours, two orgasms…” My words trail off when a flare darts through her eyes during my last two words. “Two orgasms it is.” After securing a better grip on her soggy dress with one hand, the other weaves through her long locks. I then swivel my hips to get her tight, little cunt to open up for me. “Are you ready to see the fireworks, Duchess?”
Her chin barely lowers an inch when I thrust my hips upward. Her moan is felt all the way to my balls. That’s how hearty it was, and I’ve barely given her the first four inches of my cock.
With Eight’s rile playing on my mind, I seal my mouth over K’s before pushing in another two inches. I can’t understand a word she speaks around the exploration on my tongue, but I’m reasonably sure it’s a Czech version of “Oh my God. More. Please. More.”
“You’re so fucking tight, Duchess. I can barely fit in,” I say on a moan as I stuff in another three inches. “This is why your thighs are supposed to be drenched before I fuck you. My cock wants to hurt you.”
“No,” she begs when I twist to face the shower stall exit.
“We’re not going anywhere. I just need you in a better position so you can take all of me.” I carefully push back on her shoulders until the weight of the top half of her body is taken up by the tiled wall my cum squirted up almost a year ago today, and the lower half of her body is distributed on my cock.
“Ohh…” K moans as she begins to shudder.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. A much better angle for you to take all of me.” I notch in the last bit of my cock before adding a roll to my hips. It doubles K’s moans in an instant, and has my chest swelling like the steamy air my lungs are sucking in is made out of helium.
People say possessiveness kills relationships.
I say they’re full of fucking shit.
Possessiveness shows love. If you don’t feel threatened another man is going to swoop in and steal your woman, you don’t love her. Point blank. I’d rather be a neurotic, possessive, jealous motherfucker than have K ever believe I don’t care about her.
When I defend her, she sees how much I love her.
When I kill a man because he hurt her, it assures her she’ll never be hurt again.
Just like when I promised her crown would be the first thing on my agenda once she was fully healed, I meant it.
She has my ring on her finger, my heart in her chest, and my kid in her gut. Next she will have her throne.
I just need to work two orgasms out of her first.
Five
Trey
“Doesn’t count if I weren’t invited,” Nikolai grumbles under his breath when he takes in the black metal band wrapped around my wedding finger.
He’s acting pissed K and I got married with only Eight as our witness, but I know that isn’t the cause for the crinkle between his brows. He’s as uneased about the news Justine was given last night as I am. The Popovs haven’t handled a takeover bid since Alexei and Achim joined forces to pulverize my brain with a tire wrench, however, that doesn’t mean we’re sitting pretty. Even Rico agrees with me about this.
Although Nikolai’s reputation is fierce it has no authority on the other side of the country. The Gottles have had a stronghold on the east coast for decades, not to mention the fact the town Nikolai is planning to take Justine is swarming with members of the Italian cartel. Even if he’s just visiting that side of the country, his stopover won’t go unnoticed. It’s as risky as fuck, and one of the reasons I’m here, hoping to talk him out of it.
After returning Nikolai’s shoulder barge, I mutter, “Certainly feels fucking real.” I scrub at my chin, exhausted. With West’s interference still high in her thoughts, I had to work extra hard to keep my pledge to K last night. She climaxed twice as requested, but it took me fucking her to the point of exhaustion before she succumb to the sensation she strived to ignore her first couple of weeks out of captivity. “We’ll do it again when all the shit dies down.” I stray my eyes to the flight plan Nikolai was in the process of approving before I interrupted him to ensure he’s aware of what I’m referencing. “This is risky, Nikolai. I don’t like it.”
