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I drop back onto my futon as the overwhelming power pulses through my veins. I’m a fucking queen now, born from the ashes with the sole intention to fly. I am unstoppable. I’m a fucking force.
No one can stand in my way, and if they do, they better be prepared to meet their maker because I will slaughter anyone who dares to stop me.
A soft breeze blows through the open window and I can’t resist gently roaming my fingers over my body. I push the soft champagne silk off my shoulder and glance up to the guard standing by the door. His eyes are on me, mesmerized by my beauty and enraptured by desire.
“Fuck me,” I demand, my stare boring into his as I untie my gown and slide my fingers down my excited body.
His eyes harden, snapping up from my hand to my eyes. “I … I’m sorry, Paris,” he says, caught off guard as he shakes his head. “I cannot. I am married.”
I let out a disappointed sigh and reach behind me to my bed, really wishing that it didn’t have to come to this. My fingers curl around my gun and I raise it, my stare falling back on his as I spread my legs wide. “I’m your fucking queen and I get what I want. So drag your useless ass over here, drop to your knees and eat my pussy until I come on your face. Is that understood?”
He swallows hard and I ignore the disdain in his eyes. “Yes, Paris. Of course, anything you want.”
The guard starts making his way across my room, removing his utility belt as he goes, gently placing it down before peeling off his shirt and showing off his ripped body that he’s been keeping from me all this time.
He gets down on his knees and curls his arms around my legs, dragging me down my futon to get me right where he wants me. His tongue hits my clit almost immediately and I shudder under his touch. It’s amazing but it’s not the same as that one blissful night that I got to be with Andrew, all the way back before London had to come and ruin it all. Nothing ever compares to him.
I glance across the room at the guard who stands stationed by my side entrance and flick the gun towards him. “You,” I snap. “Touch me.” He simply nods his head and starts moving toward me, removing his belt and shirt just as the other guard had done.
As he grows nearer, I look down at his body. It’s definitely not as impressive as the other guy, but I bet his secrets lay somewhere else. “Remove your pants. I want to see what you’re working with.”
He nods and removes his pants, revealing a long, thick snake that has my mouth watering. “Come to me.”
He steps in beside me, kneeling on the futon and I curl my fingers around his hardening cock. My fist roams up and down his velvety skin and I feel the small bead of excitement at his tip. “Play with me,” I insist, reveling in the feel of the married guy’s tongue working my clit.
Damn, what is it about a married man that gets me off so good?
Guard number two bends down and curls his mouth over my waiting nipple, flicking it as I work his cock and sending me right into an intense pleasure. My blood pulses rapidly through my body. It’s been far too long since I was touched last, but let’s face it, Harding didn’t have the skill to do me like this.
My orgasm builds and everything clenches inside of me and just when my world is about to be thoroughly rocked, my bedroom door barges open, the doorknob slamming into the wall behind it and puncturing the drywall.
“YOU PROMISED THAT LITTLE BITCH WAS DEAD,” Ida Carver demands, storming into my bedroom like a raging whore only to pull herself up short as she looks over me with my guards. “Ugh, fucking pathetic. My husband did not die so that you could fuck around with the help. Have some class about yourself.”
The guards stop and my glare drops down at the man between my legs. “Did you hear the word ‘stop’ come from my lips? I don’t think so. You were told to eat my fucking pussy until I came, and after that, you’re going to fuck me until I scream. You both are.”
They get back to work and a shallow laugh comes tearing up my throat, even more so when I take in the disgust etched across Ida’s face. “Stop being such a prude,” I laugh at her. “Come and join me. God knows it’s been millennia since you’ve got your rocks off. It’s time to celebrate. We’ve won.”
“WON?” she shrieks. “We haven’t won anything. You got played. The funeral was a sham. Elodie Ravenwood is alive and breathing, shitting all over your attempt at world domination while you’re here letting your guards fuck you senseless. She won. You just proved yourself to be a joke. Again.”
