Page 71 of His Ruthless Queen

She peers up at me through hooded lashes, her mouth parted and ready to take me if I order. Her hands land on either of my knees, and her nails dig in, urging me to tell her what to do. She’s ethereal, ready to take whatever I dish to her, despite what happened. And her pouty lips, God, they’re so ready to be stretched around my cock.

I shake my head, pushing away the dark thoughts sloshing through my mind. She’s not ready. She needs to hash out the past. I clench my fists, turning my gaze from her. My self control won’t last if I have to keep looking at those big puppy-dog eyes.

“Jaime,” she says. “Stop.”

I don’t respond.

“You’re at war with yourself when you don’t need to be. I’m asking for this. Pull my hair, force me.Makeme. I want it.”

What kind of monster am I that those words stir desire in me? That I want to lap up her tears after I’ve done fucked up things to her?The worst kind.

Saoirse dips her head against the inside of my thigh, her cheek nuzzling me like a lost dog, waiting for praise, and the will power inside of me snaps. I unclench the fist I’m making and run my hand through her short hair. My fingers play with the locks at first. Gentle until she tilts her head to peer up at me.

I take my other hand and run a knuckle along her cheek, then press the pad of my index finger against her lips. She opens, sucking the tip into her mouth. “Fuck, baby.” I suck in a breath, trying to control myself. But she makes it impossible. The way she looks peering up at me, the warmth of her tongue against my finger, the way she begs me with those animated eyes.

My grip on her hair tightens until it’s uncomfortable. She winces, but she doesn’t look scared. I force her head back, exposing her slender neck. “I’m not going to be easy on you,” I warn.

Her lips twitch, excited to take on the challenge.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask. “Put your mouth to good fucking use.”

I loosen the grip on her head enough to make her comfortable. Her fingers work at my belt, and then she unzips the jeans, swallowing as she drags them lower to pull my erection free. Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips in a lust-induced haze, and then her hands wrap around my shaft. She squeezes, slowly pumping, and fuck if she’s not teasing me.

“Open, Saoirse,” I say through gritted teeth.

Her eyes widen but my threat has the desired effect. Her lips part and her tongue darts out to lick around the tip of my cock. I force my hips not to move, a groan escaping with each lap of her tongue swirling around the slit. Warm, willing. I need to be fully inside of her and she’s taking her fucking time.

She wants it rough, and I know she’s teasing me so I’ll deliver what she needs. I fist her hair in my hand, and shove her head down. I hit the back of her throat, and she gags, her throat closing to force me out.

“Fuck, that feels good,” I say, lifting her head up, then shoving her down again.

Her tongue works to hit that spot against the sensitive vein. It sends a shiver through me, spiraling me toward climax. Saoirse pulls off, her mouth dripping with my precum and her saliva mixed. “Harder, Jaime. Don’t hold back. I want to feel you hit the back of my throat.”

“Don’t speak,” I growl. My grip tightens, pulling her hair harder.

She winces, sucking in air through her teeth to manage the pain, but she doesn’t back down. There’s no fear on her face, only arousal. Whatever happened with Vlad, she wants me to continue. My heart pounds in my chest. I’m so fucking proud of her strength, so amazed how she continues to move on.

“God, you make me so weak,” I say as my breathing becomes more frenzied.

She moans, her mouth filled with my cock. The vibration sends me over the tipping point. Just when I think I can’t get enough of her, she slips one of her hands between her legs, sliding into her jeans. As hot as she is, as sexy as her sounds are when she touches herself, this is my show. I’m not about to let her take the lead.

“Did I say you could come?” I snap, pulling her off my dick.

She whimpers, tongue cleaning off her lips.

“No, I didn’t.” I let out a dark chuckle. I shove her, release my grip on her and she tumbles on the floor of the boat. I nod toward her unzipped jeans. “Take them all the way off.”

She scrambles to stand, shoving her pants down to her ankles, and stands before me in only her cream-colored sweater. Her hand slips between her thighs again as she swipes her fingers through her slick heat. Taunting me, playing a game she knows she’ll lose.

I shake my head, fisting myself as I pump at an agonizingly slow pace.

“Stop. Touching. Yourself.”

Her chin drops, and she makes eye contact with me, mischief swirling as she disobeys my command. She feels safe with me, enjoys pushing the limits, and knows that when I hurt her, it brings her pleasure. I remind myself that this is what she needs. The thought makes it easier for me to continue this fucked up game. A game both of us secretly need.

“That’s two,” I say, my voice low.

“Two what?” she asks.

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