AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Beau–”
I pivoted and studied Sylvie’s pale face, taking in her darting eyes.
A coldness settled inside me. She’d never accept me as I came, the second son of a mafia god, tasked with menial shit to earn brownie points on the ladder to killing my brother. One of us would, in the end.
No, sweet Sylvie Quick could only be the slightest diversion on an otherwise bleak night. I opened my mouth to say we should leave and get her out before she fainted or threw up on me—wouldn’t be the first time, as she puked on me in the ambulance, though she wouldn’t remember it. Of course, she beat me to it.
Sylvie looked me straight in the face and sighed. “Again, Beau?”
I stared at her, swallowing the laugh that rose inexorably in my throat. “Again.” I let a swirl of amusement coat my tone.
Sylvie stared back, all stunning curves and slim legs peeking from the hip-high slits in the dress I specifically requested from my tamed tailor who always came through when an emergency presented itself.
Crossing the room in a few quick steps, I reached past her, flicking the lock on the door and caught her nape in my palm. My hand closed gently around her throat, my fingers meeting at the front where her pulse fluttered at my touch.
Fuck me if she’s not the prettiest thing.
But I needed more than pretty. I needed a girl who thought for herself and was strong enough to stand up to me. Maybe it was time to see if Sylvie Quick was made of the stuff of fantasies I filled my night with. When I rubbed myself raw to the memory of her tongue sliding against mine, the weight of her breast in my hand as I made her come through nipple stimulation alone, just to give her a break from the pain.
Watching her flush as she soaked the hospital bed was my favorite fantasy of all.
Tonight...I planned to make new fantasies for us to remember apart.
Walking backwards slowly, I kept moving, my eyes locked on hers until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the sofa. Still holding her throat loosely but firmly, I sat, spreading my thighs and drawing her down with me.
Sylvie’s eyes widened as she recognized her choice: straddle me or end up face first in my crotch. She held my gaze, something like defiance sparkling there before she raised one slim, diamond clad foot and knelt over me. Sylvie began to lower herself, but I shook my head, and she froze in position.
“Keep your legs spread.”
I smiled as she huffed at me, noting the deepening color in her cheeks as she slid lower, until the tops of her thighs touched my slacks. She shook her head back as best she could with my hand manacled around her throat, and glared imperiously down at me.
Letting my eyes fall shut, I tipped my head back and breathed in slowly. “There’s an energy after killing someone I can’t burn off,” I murmur. “Like when I was in the ambulance with you and I couldn’t shake the niggling need to throttle the driver because he was going far too fucking slow.” I opened my eyes at her small laugh, and locked onto her again, squeezing her throat the slightest fraction. “If you died then, that ambulance would have resembled the interior of an abattoir. I would have killed them all if I lost you,” I whisper, stroking her pulse point.
“But you don’t want me,” she squeaked, flushing deeper. “I mean, you– you’ve ignored me since.”
“I beg to differ.” I caught her hand and placed it over my crotch where my hard on raged against its confines. “I want you very fucking much right now.”
“That’s the energy talking.”
Her breath hitched as I slid my hand beneath her dress and along her freshly waxed pussy, letting amusement filter into my expression. The dress was designed for no underwear, but I wasn’t certain she wouldn’t try to pull something off. Still, her smooth, bare skin was a beautiful surprise. I stroked her gently, feeling the first slicks of moisture coat her warming flesh.
“Are you ignoring the dead body in the room, Sylvie?” I laughed softly and drew her down, close enough to kiss lightly as I massaged her pussy with my fingertips, but didn’t push inside her. Not yet.
“Yes,” she confessed, the easy admission sinking beneath my skin like a personal collection of her sins.
“Good girl,” I praised her, pressing my lips to hers in a gentle kiss.
“Why do you do that?” she gasped.
“Kiss you?” I frowned, sliding her hand to my belt buckle. “Open it.”
She shuddered at the command but reached for me, fumbling a little as her fingers trembled against my straining cock. “Why are you gentle with me? I mean we all know who you are. You’re the Kingsman who fucks what he wants, where he wants.”
She closed her mouth with a snap and concentrated on my belt, pausing to rub her palm the length of me every now and then through the material.
I bit back more than a groan, managing not to push into her hesitant touch and considered her words. “But not you. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?” I nudged my thumb against her jaw, tapping it three times quickly when she ignored me. “Sylvie,” I said in a low voice.
“No.” She shook her head free and I let her, reading the surprise in her face at her immediate freedom. “What?”
