AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No.”
Her mouth drops.
Again, laughter like I’d never expected rumbles over my abs. I remove one of the domes. “That restaurant I took you to the first night—”
“Cut.”
“Yes. It closed sometime before clamps adorned your luscious tits.” I remove another cloche. “I had the chef called back in.”
Excited, she leans onto her elbows. “What is it?”
I lift a plate of New York Cheesecake then another of crème brûlée. “Every dessert they have. I didn’t want to presume this time.”
“Oh, Vic. You are so amazing.”
“Do something for me?”
“Yes.” Luxury’s gaze radiates how she’ll do anything for me. For us. If the little minx only knew the mayhem I caused her. I look at her, appreciating her willingness, her innocence. Some would prefer a woman well versed in the art of fucking. If I craved a cunt who sharpened her skills without my edict, I would’ve mounted Princess Noor. I crave the trainable ones.
And after you train her, you idiotic wanka?
I ignore the man whose duties have already spread him thin. “Come.”
The second she starts off the bed, she nearly crumples to the floor. A silly smile of consolation brightens her face. “Crawling permitted?”
“Not at all, Little One. You are under strict orders to only ever crawl when my cock has beckoned you.”
I stroll over to help her up from the floor and into my arms. “As I suspected, your body is too broken to carry you across the room, Luxury, because I destroyed you.”
“Vic.” Her tone is a delicious rasp as my fingers dip into her cunt. The pulse at her core beats wildly at my fingertips. “I can’t take anymore.”
“No, you cannot. Because youlovewhen I fuck you half to death, Luxury.” I toss out the specific word, the catalyst that will continue breaking Luxury for me. I slide her into position, straddling my lap, and settle at the table near the cart. “I will not always be there to pick you up . . . from the floor, Luxury.”
The silly smile falls. She starts to draw her legs shut but realizes dominating power rests between them. If she were any other woman in the world, this is where I’d insert the truth. This is where I’d declare, “I will not always be there, Luxury.” I would say in earnest, “You will never ever feel as alive as you do while in my arms, Luxury. You can never go back to your life as though I never existed. But you must understand, I cannot be there for you.”
Albeit, I will spare Luxury the truth for now because I’ve got a new impulsive craving, which doesn’t revolve around setting up the kill shot. So, I present to my Little One every form of dessert. She will indulge, and I will have my cake.
24
VICTOR
At fourteen, the chance of me receiving broken bones diminished. Graham understood the word ‘no.’ He avoided our wanka of a father. The arsehole disappeared for so long I’d begun to wonder if my new, impulsive craving for blood came from a wraith long thrust back to hell.
One day, Prince Silas returned, and the little rugrat had forgotten to fear him. Maybe my little brother threw Father’s new mobile in the toilet, perhaps even our coat of arms. But it was either the toddler . . . or me.
Mum preferred that I not cause a scene around our home after such episodes. Her stomach couldn’t tolerate the bloodied noses or split lips. A bruised royal, how could it be?
Face throbbing, I stalked through the flower fields. The scent of fresh rain was all about, but I could only breathe through my mouth.
“You’re dripping blood. Will it clean itself?”
My sorry gaze tracked over to a girl. In a fraction, I assessed her for what she was—pathetic and unsightly. She had mouse-brown hair, brown eyes, and porcelain skin.
I ran the sleeve of my black blazer over my nose. “There. Perfect.”
“Hmmm, now I see why your wardrobe consists of all black. Come along.”
I dropped my hands into my pants pocket. Vile thoughts of my father whispered into my ear.
