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There’s a conceited type of security that comes from being a King, and a lot of it is that no one approaches you unless instructed to.
Times like tonight are one of those moments. And they have every reason to be, since Priest is parading his lifeless doll like a fucking trophy he won.
“You think I need to stake my claim on you?” The grin that kisses my mouth tastes like poison.
His gaze catches the movement. I hate that it looks fucking hot.
Warmth from the open flames caresses my back as he considers me a moment. “Are you saying that they all know I’m yours?” His tone is deep enough to bury every single emotion I’d ever felt when it came to him.
“Was there ever a time that you weren’t?” The challenge is clear when our faces are an inch apart. Crippling heat singes the back of my throat when our lips brush, a daunting reminder of everything I’ve denied myself all these years.
With a sluggish tilt of his hips, the curl of his devilry touches the corner of my mouth. “Not even when I hated you.”
His tongue swipes at my lips and that’s all I need to swap out my queen to a damn pawn.
For now.
Our lips collide in a punishing pace of pent-up vengeance, and for this very moment, I’ll take what’s rightfully mine.
The Kingdom, and the boy.Both mine.Because I’m a greedy bitch, even if he’s going to hate me when it’s all said and done.
Chasing the surge of electricity that cackles between us, my hips flex forward as the material of his jeans rasp against my inner thighs.
His fingers knead into me as his tongue battles with mine. It’s the first time we’ve outwardly claimed each other in front of everyone.
With a gentle stroke up the pillar of my spine, deceit takes over when he grips the back of my neck, forcing me deeper into the kiss.
Our teeth collide before he finally pulls back, his face one bad decision away from mine. “If you don’t want me to fuck you in front of your brother and his dead toy, I’d run. Now.”
“I don’t run.” We both know that neither of us are backing down.
A violent rush of dominance gnaws at my chest when he rests his hands on my outer thighs, using them to draw me in closer before he lifts his hips into me.
Shit.
Hunger scathes over my body every second that there’s clothes between us and in this moment, I don’t care about the people behind me. Priest has had more than enough warning to find another place to pet his toy, and as far as the girls go, they’re probably already occupied with their own. Rhythmic waves ofTupac’s lyrical genius rasps through the air as my fingers find the side of his corded neck.
“If you think this is gonna go down as some cute little secretive sex show that no one knows is happening, you’re wrong.”
My hand finds the button of his jeans as I catch his bottom lip between my teeth. “You mistake me for one of your minions, oh wicked one.” After I’ve worked his button, my hand slips beneath the waistband of his jeans, the greed in my movements obvious as my fingers close around his weight.
Wrapping the leash around his wrist, he gives it a tug and I fall forward, tightening my grip around his cock. A thread of rippling veins pillow the surface of his cock as the cushion of my thumb swipes the metal piercing.
Lost in the maze of his face, my hands itch to touch the hollow shadow of his cheek, until the corner of his lip arcs to a smirk. “You’ve got two seconds to climb on it before I bend you over Priest’s toy.”
Falling forward, I nestle my face into the crook of his neck. “But then you’d have to share me?” Warmth feathers my clit, igniting a firestorm of desire that burns roguishly through my veins.
My teeth catch the familiar scent of his flesh when I bury my cries into the crook of his neck.
“Do you want murder or dick?” His fingers bruise my hips when he forces my weight down and I bite into his jaw to stop the scream from escaping. “Gonna be both in a second.”
With an emptiness only he can exude, his pupils swell and the muscles on either side of his jaw bounce. He’s mad. Good. He can stay mad. This isn’t about him—it’s about me. I need this.
With the purpose of not touching me clear as day, he spreads his palm over my lower back without messing with my pace while keeping the other to his side.
He leans back lazily, holding my eyes hostage.
This. Is. For. Me. Because if I start doing things for him, then I’ve already lost.
