Page 121 of Bitter Prince

I was so full it burned, and Amon stared at where we were joined with a dark look rivaling obsession. And then, with a growl, he tossed me onto my back and pulled out, only to thrust all the way inside of me. I cried out, my back arching off the bed.

He remained so deep inside me I could feel him everywhere. One hand braced on the bed and his other cradling my head, his chest moved against mine. His ragged breaths fanned my neck while we remained still, watching each other.

His lips pressed against my ear. “I’ll never have enough of this,” he hissed, his teeth clenching. “I’ll never have enough of you, cinnamon girl. You’re mine now.”

“Yours,” I breathed, shivering at his deep voice.

He nuzzled my neck. His kisses were warm and smooth, but he held me by a fistful of hair at my nape. And then he started moving. My body molded into his, accommodating his every thrust.

He fucked me hard. The heavy weight of him was unrelenting as his skin slapped against mine. The intensity of it stole my breath. Every thrust kindled a spark inside me that only the next thrust could sate. My nails dug into his biceps and a small shudder rolled under his skin.

He talked while he screwed, right against my ear in a deep rasp. “You take it so good,” he praised. “So wet for me.”

Every time his pelvis ground against mine, molten heat spread from my clit outward and a throaty moan escaped my lips. I was nothing but heat and flame and pleasure for him to use as he wanted.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned in my ear. The words sank into my skin and filled every space of my heart and soul. I whimpered. I shuddered. I moaned. “Your greedy pussy is strangling my cock.”

I wanted to please him. I wanted to make him feel good and be everything he needed and wanted.

My moans became louder; I couldn’t control them. He brought a hand to my mouth and covered it with his palm while the other remained fisted in my hair. I bit into his palm, muffling my moans.

His roughness shouldn’t have felt so good, yet it did. It was addictive. Maybe it was because I trusted him to keep me safe. Or maybe it was something I needed all along. To be dominated.

The orgasm that came was so violent it sent a shudder through me. Heat pulsed in my lower stomach before branching out in tingles. Black dots blurred my vision. I was free-falling. When I came down, it was to him motionless inside of me, watching me with a gaze dark as night.

He rested his forehead against mine and the look in his eyes resembled madness, the kind I felt in my soul.

“Who fucks you?” he growled.

I shivered. “You do, Amon.”

A rumble of satisfaction erupted from his chest. His lips hovered above my own. “That’s right. You let another man touch you and I’ll kill him.”

That shouldn’t make me smile. “Ditto,” I murmured, kissing his lips. “Another woman touches you and I’ll kill her.”

A slow thrust and a tense breath, his lips pressed against mine, sliding and licking and biting. Wet and messy and rough. “It’s a deal, my cinnamon girl.”

Then he thrust deeper, with an intimacy that made my eyes burn. It left me exposed, but I didn’t care. Not that I could escape it anyhow. Not with his fist in my hair and his body on mine.

I wanted to give him everything and take his everything.

The warmth that blossomed in my chest clung to him and locked him in my heart, forever throwing away the key.

48

AMON

It took a good amount of convincing on Reina’s part to her sister and her girlfriends to send them ahead to Paris. Dante took them to the train station while I kept Reina with me just a bit longer.

“So we’ll fly to Paris, and then what?” she asked as I opened the door to my convertible Lamborghini for her. “And please, can we drive to the airport with the top down?”

Her short dress hiked up, giving me a perfect view of her smooth thighs, and my dick instantly stirred. I was insatiable around her. I could fuck her day and night and still not have enough. Each taste made a bigger addict out of me.

I didn’t give a shit. For the first time in my life, it felt like the tight, dark spaces in my chest were starting to crack, letting the light in. And it had everything to do with this girl. She was my light.

“Amon?” She stared at me with those blue eyes that stole my fucking breath. Every. Single. Time. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” I assured her. I didn’t want to tell her I was daydreaming. It seemed to only happen around her. “We’ll take my plane to Paris, and once there, I want to show you my place.”