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“How do you know I don’t love you?”
We’re sitting outside where I found her drawing in the early hours of the morning. She’s sitting across my lap, her naked thighs free for me to drag my fingertips across. She still has scratches from the forest over a week ago. Deep welts that turn my cock to stone every time I see them.
I squeeze her leg. “Because I’d feel it.”
She looks into my eyes. “Do you think?”
I stare back. “I believe so. I can’t imagine a feeling as potent as love could be mistaken for anything else.”
She looks disappointed by my admission but blinks it away. “I have my reasons.”
“Don’t you think I deserve to know, considering you roped me into it all?”
The line of her neck moves purposefully with the strength she takes to swallow. “I can’t.” The whispered words beg me to leave it alone.
But I don’t. “Why?”
Placing her coffee mug down, she twists, straddling my lap. Hands cupping my face, she brushes her thumbs over my cheeks. “It’s nothing sinister,” she assures me, but caught up in her hazel eyes, I can’t decide if she’s lying. “I did it to protect people.”
“People?”
She shrugs. “People.”
“How many people?”
She looks down, tracing her fingertips over my chain and following the line of the cross. “Two.”
“Two people.”
“Hm.”
“What are their names?”
She shakes her head, leaning forward to kiss my chest. “I can’t tell you that. But I believe them both to be good people.”
“Sia,” I sigh.
“Will you go down on me?”
“You’re deflecting.”
“No,” she argues softly. “Salvatore and I have a meeting this morning. The family has questions about Freddie’s death, and I feel icky. I want to forget.”
“You had nothing to do with that old cunt’s death.”
Her lips brush over my chest. “Or I could suck your cock? I haven’t done that yet.” She moves to crawl off my lap, but I stop her.
“Sia. You’re not sucking my dick to relieve your anxiety about a misogynistic asshole who deserved to die.”
She pouts.
“I’ve fantasized about how these pretty lips will look wrapped around my dick more times than you’ll know.” I lift her chin, bringing her mouth to mine to kiss her. “But you’re not getting down on your knees for me before you come face-to-face with a group of men. I’ll be worshipping you onmyknees so you remember that you’re a fucking queen, and every single one of those fuckwits should be kissing your feet.”
I stand with her in my arms and walk into the house.
Less than three minutes later, she’s writhing on the sofa, her legs on my shoulders, my fingers buried in her pussy, and my face pressed against her heat, licking and sucking as she sings my praises with moans and pleas formore, more, MORE!
She comes violently, the wet rush of her climax clinging to my lips and fingers.
