Page 241 of House of Cards

Christ. Even now, six months later, the memory makes me hard. But my dick will have to wait its turn. There’s another need I intend to fulfill before I turn Zoey into my personal fucktoy.

“Best decision I ever made,” I say with a low chuckle.

“Which part? Telling me you loved me, or letting me sit on your face?”

“Both.”

I duck my head, but she catches my hair in a fist, tugging hard enough to make me look up at her.

“Is this real?” she murmurs, frowning. “I keep wondering if I’m going to wake up.”

“Real, yes.” I smooth my hands over her thighs, and crawl up the bed until I’m on top of her, pinning her with my weight. “Normal…? Not even close.”

She gives me a melancholy smile. “Like there was ever any doubt of that. You know I thought I had Stockholm Syndrome?”

My smile is predatory. “Don’t you?”

She shakes her head, a faint frown back on her brow. “No. This feels…different. But it makes me wonder what would’ve happened if we met outside of this whole—“ She waves a hand around, eyes skipping to the ceiling, the door “—mob casino thing.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t…”

Zoey squints up at me. “You-a makin’ me an-a offer I can’t-a refuse,” she says in the same terrible, wheezy Godfather impression she’s subjected me to the past six months.

I dip my head, groaning into the side of the neck. “You promised, Zoey.”

“Leave-a the gun,” she wheezes, “take-a the ca-nnoli.”

I wrap my fingers around her throat, resting on the other arm. “We met exactly the way we should’ve.”

“You’ve never even thought about it?”

“Of course I have. But no one gets to choose how they meet. They can only choose what to do once they have.”

I tighten my fingers, feeling her pulse respond with a quickening drumbeat.

“Like how I chose to stay,” she says, glancing away before looking back at me with a smile.

“And how I chose to let you.”

“Not everyone sees it that way,” she murmurs, expression serious again.

“Think I give a fuck what this looks like from the outside?” I growl, dropping my head so my lips are beside her ear. “All that matters is that you’re happy.”

“And thatyou’rehappy,” she whispers, turning to nibble my ear.

“My happiness has nothing to do with it.”

“M’lord doth protest too much,” she murmurs, sliding a hand down my chest to grab my cock. “I believe it has everything to do with it.”

I nip the side of her neck, relishing the tug as she tries to hold on to my cock while I kiss my way down her body.

“M’lady might just be right…” I murmur, my words sending warm air over her pussy as I duck down between her legs.

Her laugh turns into a groan as I clamp my mouth over her clit.

I lose myself in her taste. In everything I’ve craved but never dared ask for. I had convinced myself this hunger was a sickness. A perversion that made me less than human.

But here she is, offering herself freely. Bleeding for me without shame, without fear.