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“Tell me,” he orders.
‘I need…’ It takes me a moment to form the words in the right order against his lips.
His mouth parts open, and he lays the tip of his tongue to the pad of my first finger. “Tell me,” he says again. Then he sticks his tongue out and lays my fingers against it.
Fuck. Why is that so fucking hot?
‘Hurt me.’
He sucks my fingers into his mouth and bites down hard enough that my mouth falls open. I start to squeeze myself tightly, but he bats my hand away and cups my balls. I brace myself because I know what’s coming.
The squeeze starts off light, and then the pressure slowly increases. I let it happen. Leaning in, he presses his mouth over mine, not kissing me, just sharing breath as his other hand moves under my shirt to my barely covered nipple.
“Love these tits,” he murmurs.
Something warm burns through me as he pinches my nipple ring and tugs. Hard. And I gasp against his mouth as his other hand squeezes harder.
“I know,” he murmurs when he feels me writhe. “I know, sweet, precious, filthy little thing. I know it hurts. Beg me more.”
I do.Please, please, please, my fingers say as they dance across his back, his thigh, his neck—anywhere that I can reach. He chuckles as he finally releases my balls, and he grabs my dick with one hand while the other moves to my other nipple. The torture resumes. I’m on the edge, and I don’t know what to ask for because I don’t know what I want.
I need this to be endless, and I need it to be over.
I feel like I’m going mad.
Something sharp skates up my shaft, and I realize it’s his nails. He bites my lip hard as he begins to stroke me, and my fingers are babbling nonsense against his back as I try to draw him closer.
‘Fuck…fuck. Fuck me.’
He laughs again and pulls back to nip at my chin as his hand speeds up. I’m so close. I’m so fucking close. “Maybe later. Maybe I’ll take this sweet hole and wreck it until you’re begging me to stop.”
I’ll never, ever beg for him to stop. He can try—he can put me through the worst his depraved mind can think of, and I’ll never ask for it to end.
My silent cry hurts my throat as my ruined voice attempts to be heard. It burns, and my eyes water as my hips thrust mindlessly upward, fucking the loose circle of his fingers. I feel the wetness spill on my chest, and he shoves me down, bending over and making a mess with his lips and tongue.
When he sits up again, his skin is shining with my spunk, and I grip him by the hair, cleaning him up as best I can as he pants hot breaths along my cheeks.
“Fucking precious,” he whispers.
The word is too soft, too real, but I let it hit me all the same. I eventually lie still as he finds the wet wipes in my bedside drawer, and he gets me clean with a few perfunctory swipes. It smells like baby powder, and I fucking hate it—which probably means James is the one who bought them.
“It’s time for me to go have dinner,” he tells me, throws the filthy wipe on my chest, then stands up and leaves.
Chapter11
JAMES
Very few changesin the weeks that follow Kane’s return home. The first few days, we were all on edge, waiting for something to happen—whether it was Kane’s condition getting worse, or Romano deciding to storm the castle, so to speak.
Instead, Kane gets better, and he has another surgery, and everything in our world is rather quiet. Kane goes back to work from behind his desk while Rhys and Aldis handle issues in the city, and he sends Ari and me out whenever things need physical attention. Of course, Kane runs the Walsh empire like a well-oiled machine, and while no one is aware of his current status, rumors have spread about the capture, and a few members of the extended family have retaliated by setting fire to several of the Romano’s storage units.
Again, Romano’s quiet, and while Kane has said nothing, I know he’s worried.
It doesn’t help that the second part of the plan is weighing heavily on us. I still haven’t had Alice the way I want her out of respect for the timeline. I can’t take the risk of getting her pregnant before Kane’s ready for that next step, and he hasn’t said shit about the wedding either.
It’ll be a show—a massive affair where everyone in the public is invited to watch.
It’ll be a goddamn royal event, and I know we’ll be at our most vulnerable, no matter what kind of security protections he sets up.
