Page 40 of Filthy Little Regrets (Princes of NYC #2)

She chuckles and rocks back. “This will be easy. Yes.”

“What’s your favorite band?”

“I can’t pick one.”

“Top three.”

“Fine,” she says, blowing out a breath and pressing her ass back against me and circling her hips. “Bad Omens, Sleep Token, and Bring Me the Horizon.”

“So angsty.”

She shifts forward, oblivious to the way she’s making it harder for me to stay on track with this game, and looks over her shoulder. “Are you judging me?”

“No. Never.”

Her gaze roves over my face, and she finally nods, relaxing back against my chest. “Good.”

Working my fingers around her clit, I continue. “If you had one day to do whatever you wanted, what would you do?”

This is harder for her to answer right away, but eventually, she sighs. “I mean, one day isn’t much time, but I guess if I could do whatever I wanted, I’d go to Wales.”

“Why?”

“Does that count as a question?”

Fuck. “I guess so.”

“My mom was Welsh.”

I know about her family, but she and I have never had a pointed discussion about it, because we’ve always been at odds. “What’s something you haven’t even told Rose?”

She sucks in a breath, and I expect her to tell me to go fuck myself for asking such personal questions, but as I glide around her nerves, she exhales. “Okay, fuck it. I guess we’re doing this.”

“You can stop whenever you want.”

“Yeah, but you’re holding an orgasm hostage.”

“Thought I was holding you hostage.”

“Don’t argue with me,” she growls.

“But I like it when you get grumpy.” She flexes around me and I groan. “That’s not fair.”

“You are the last person who should be talking about fair,” she says, shaking her head.

I stop moving my fingers. “Are you going to answer the question?”

“Something I haven’ t even told Rose?”

“Mm-hmm.” I want a piece of her that’s only for me.

“Okay,” she begins. “I guess...I haven’t told Rose how lonely I really am.”

She’s obviously touch starved, and she’s lived alone for years, just like me.

Sure, I’m on the property, but every night, I end up in my home, alone, no one to share the evening with, no company.

“It’s weird when you leave a party or even drinks with a friend, isn’t it?

With other people”—I move over her clit—“they distract you from yourself, but when you get home, and you’re alone, that silence can be suffocating.

” That’s probably why she likes her headphones so much.

Music takes up space.

She nods.

“I’ll make you a deal.”

“Okay,” she says, hesitant.

“Whenever we’re home together, no matter how late I might get home, we can watch shows or do whatever mindless thing you want together.”

“You want to . . . hang out with me?”

“Baby, you have no idea.” With my free hand, I guide both her arms over my shoulder, and she links her fingers behind my neck, back arching and breasts jutting into the air. “Magnificent.”

“Why do you always say stuff like that?”

“I’m asking the questions here,” I remind her, thrusting up.

“Yesss,” she rasps.

Pride fills my chest. “How many times have you wanted to knee me in the nuts?”

“Too many to count.”

I laugh. “Do you like chocolate?” I pump into her. Twenty questions is a long time to torture myself .

“Yes, that’s a dumb question.”

“Why did you pick red hair?” I ask, grinding deep inside of her, and my wife presses back, helping me reach that delicious spot.

“Red was my dad’s favorite color. Next question.”

“Cats or dogs?”

“Cats.”

“Rain or snow?”

“Rain,” she rasps, brushing her fingers through the hair on the back of my head.

“Do you like me?”

She doesn’t answer that one, and I let it slide, for now.

“Do you like when I’m inside of you?”

“I think you know the answer to that question,” she says, voice shaky as I quicken the tight circles I’m tracing around her clit.

“What’s your biggest fear?”

“That everyone I love will die,” she says quickly.

I thrust into her a few times, hoping to distract her from the emotions that statement might carry. “Other than Wales, where would you want to travel to?”

“Spain.”

“Have you ever come for someone else?”

She sits forward, tightening the channel I’m thrusting into, glancing back at me. “Do you want me to lie?”

“No.”

“Yes, I’ve come for someone else.”

My jaw clenches. “Who?”

“You’re insane if you think I’ll tell you their names. How do I know you won’t go beat the shit out of them, after the way you kicked Crue’s ass?”

Bold of her to assume I’d leave them breathing. “Fine. Who did the best job? ”

She averts her gaze.

I smirk and drive into her. “It’s me, isn’t it, baby?”

She remains silent.

My fingers move away from her clit, and she gasps, grabbing my hand and pulling it back.

“Fine! Yes, you do the best job.”

A dark chuckle rolls out of me. “Good girl.”

“Next.”

“Are you still counting questions?”

“No.”

“Me either,” I confess, pushing her out of my lap and spinning her around to straddle me, driving back into her before too much of my cum can leak out of her.

She bites her lip as she slides down my length, walls rippling, until her pussy finally rests against me. “Thought we were watching a movie.”

“Why watch that when I could watch you fall apart?” I grip her ass. “Ride me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” She huffs, moving her hips despite her protest.

I watch Cassia’s face as she fucks me, the way her lips part, her eyes flutter closed when I smooth my thumb over her clit, and the way she surrenders to the moment as she finds her pace.

Who needs fucking Twilight when I have this?

The only good thing carrying me into Monday is that Cassia finally gave herself to me. Granted, she picked a fight to get it started, trying to force my hand, but I called her bluff. She didn’t think I’d fuck her in her best friend’s bathroom.

Silly wife .

And last night, she gave in again, letting me stay inside of her for hours, until biology demanded we part.

I regretted having to leave bed this morning without worshipping her body, but dread loomed over me as soon as I woke.

Quarterly board meetings are the bane of my existence.

It means hours of listening to presentations I don’t give a shit about and spending far too much time with Darius.

Normally, I would have told Dad to go fuck himself for insisting we ride into the city together, but I don’t want him to hand my sisters over to Vito because I pissed him off.

I can typically endure being around him at Rex Technologies, because there’s space to escape, but there’s nowhere to hide in the back of the town car.

The air in the cabin thickens around me.

Memories of every time he forced me into a cage, every time he punched me, every time I heard my mom cry.

They’re all clawing at the surface, desperate to break through.

My fists clench and my heart hammers. I would love nothing more than to watch the light leave Darius’s eyes, but going to prison for murder would leave the girls vulnerable. Vito is already closing in. They’d be ripe for the taking, and Mom wouldn’t be able to stop him.

Dad clears his throat, looking at me with as much affection as one does shit on their shoe. “Are you going to tell me where my family is staying?”

And risk him convincing them to go back home? “No.”

“You can’t protect them forever, you know.”

I’ll protect them as long as I can. “What’s the plan for today?”

Pursing his lips, he seems to internally debate whether to keep pushing, but ultimately sighs and lets it go. For now. “Malik is going to make a motion at the board meeting, and I want you to vote against it.”

“What’s the motion?” I ask.

“I’m getting a little tired of you questioning me,” he snaps, fingers tightening around his tumbler of coffee.

Once upon a time, the angry spark in his eyes would have me cowering, but I’m not afraid of him anymore. His yellowing bruise is just a reminder of how much things have changed. “Would you rather me ask you a question now than at the meeting?”

His teeth creak with how hard he’s grinding his jaw as his focus lands on Blake, the driver, who is abnormally stiff.

As if the tension has made him keenly aware of the bomb that could detonate in the back of the town car.

I’m sure Darius would love to hit me, but he’d never do it with someone around to witness it.

Then there’s the bit where he hasn’t been able to land a solid punch for years now.

It’s amusing to watch the man that used to terrify me realize he can’t do a damn thing.

Knowing my indifference pisses him off, I simply take a sip of my French roast, eyeing the passing buildings and pedestrians. Cassia should be on her way to work by now. Did she remember to eat? I grab my phone and send a message to Kyle, my personal assistant.

Can you order a burrito and coffee?

KYLE

You got it, boss.

Thanks.

I pocket my phone and look at my dad. “Well? What’s the motion?”

“He wants a publicity moment. Rex Technologies funding the NYC Techie Teens and doing mentoring.”

That sounds...like a smart business move and a good way to give back to the future generations of tech leaders. “And why are we blocking it?”

“Because I fucking said so!” he shouts.

Blake flinches, and his gaze flits to meet mine in the rearview. There’s no telling what he’s witnessed in the few years he’s been with us. My dad isn’t exactly known for being kind.

“Rex needs the good PR. Especially with what happened with Altitude Tech.”

The thriving startup we acquired and then quickly dismantled, folding in the tech that advanced our established services and killing the innovative parts that barely posed a threat.

It was a pointless acquisition, but Dad’s stuck in his old ways, too determined to be the king, that he’s taken to eliminating companies that would never be able to threaten ours.

I made sure the guys who started Altitude were well compensated, setting them up for the rest of their lives, and had them sign an NDA.

But the sting of watching their hard work be broken apart had them going to war on social media, breaching the contract terms. Most of the fuss has died down, but with the new trending hashtag #rextechsucks, we could use some positive news stories.

Or we could let the empire burn .

“Fucking techies,” he growls, eyes narrowing to slits. “I’ll handle them.”

My chest tightens and protectiveness surges through me. I’ve seen how he deals with things that irritate him. “The lawyers can deal with it.”

Dad searches my face, his lips cutting into a vicious grin. “Vote down the motion, and I’ll let the lawyers handle it.”

Goddammit. I’m tempted to defy him, but that dark glint in his gaze makes me pause.

He’ll have the previous owners of Altitude Tech killed if I go against him.

It’s what he does. Snuffs out those who piss him off, abuses those he can use.

Dad has me by the balls on this, and while I know funding NYC Teen Techies is a good cause, I crush any desire to do good.

“Fine,” I tell him as the driver pulls up to the curb. “Leave them to the lawyers, and I’ll vote it down.”

“Good.” He gets out first, and I slide across the bench seat, only to be met with a door slamming in my face.

“Jesus,” Blake mutters.

I glance at him. “Come to me if you ever need anything,” I tell him quickly, hoping he’ll take me up on the advice, then climb out and follow my asshole of a father into Rex Technologies.

I can’t wait to destroy this place.