Page 139 of Villainous Kingpin

“Eyes on me, principessa,” he rumbled, the tension in his shoulders visible. Then he smacked my ass again and the unexpected sting sent a vibration to my core. I moaned against his lips, breathing his air.

Judging by the rumble that vibrated in his chest, he liked my reaction. The next spank was harder. Firmer.

“Ouch,” I complained.

“Because you left me,” he gritted, then spanked me again.

It brought fire that was enhanced as he continued to slowly fuck me with his fingers. I watched him through my half-lidded gaze before lowering my gaze to watch his fingers slick with my juices, pumping in and out of me as my hips ground shamelessly against him.

My whole body trembled with the impending release, like a volcano threatening to erupt. I was so wet, it was dripping down his hand and my leg. A shiver rolled down my spine, every muscle in my body quivered, and he took my mouth for a rough kiss. And all the while I ground against his hand and panted as I climbed the peak. My nails dug into his biceps, the impending release curling down my spine.

“Who are you thinking about?” he asked through clenched teeth. His fingers thrust hard, circling deep inside me and making me see stars. “Who?” he demanded coarsely.

“You,” I whimpered.

As if he wanted to reward me for my admission, his thumb pressed on my clit, and another finger eased inside. My insides clenched and my body shuddered at the extra pressure. Pressure built and built.

Another thrust of his fingers and he sent me over the cliff as I gripped a fistful of his hair.

Heat exploded through every fiber of my body, my vision dimmed, and my heart pounded to keep up with the scorching blood pumping through me, stealing my breath. My skin burned as I gasped for air and all the while his fingers moved slowly, in and out of me.

The ringing in my ears faded, the fog in my vision cleared and his fingers remained inside me. My face buried in his neck, I inhaled deeply his scent, making a soft noise of appreciation. He smelled so good, like whiskey, sin, and spice. So masculine. So mine.

Warmth spread through my body as he wrung the last pulse from me, and in the moment, I didn’t care about our fucked up families’ history, about the past, or the way he kidnapped me. I just cared abouthim. With me.

I kissed up his neck, humming a soft noise of appreciation. Inhaling his heady scent was my own brand of alcohol. Post-orgasmic bliss made me feel raw and vulnerable. I was completely naked and he was completely dressed.

I brushed my fingers over his erection, feeling his thick, hard length and the wanton in me wanted him.Now. Inside of me. He was so hard and big, and my body still remembered how he felt inside me. My pussy clenched, ready for him to claim me.

My eyes met his, and I held my breath. I knew he could see my desire in them, but he must have seen in them something else too. Because he let out a frustrated breath, kissed me on the lips and then tucked me under the blankets.

“Go to sleep, principessa,” he rasped. “Soon.”

I laid on the bed, staring blankly after him as he stood up and walked out the door.

A raw ache pulsed through my chest. A single tear ran down my cheek and a choked sob escaped me.

He warned me he was a villain when we met. He never warned me he’d steal my heart.

CHAPTER57

Basilio

The image of Wynter naked against the wall, her skin flushed by her arousal, burned in my brain. I was hard as a rock and ready to take her. After nine months of dreaming and fantasizing about her, she was finally in my grasp, and I was determined to make her mine. Brand her. Fuck her senseless.

Yet, it was all wrong.

Her eyes, the color of cool lakes, watched me with so much distrust it fucking tore at my chest. There was no trace of that look she used to have for me. Blind trust was gone.

Fucking bullshit.

She left me without a backward glance. I felt fucking crazy over the last nine months imagining her hurt, tortured, or dead. I waited for an explanation. It never came. My father was a sadistic, lying snake so asking him was out of the question. I tried Angelo and that led nowhere. I suspected he withheld information, but short of torturing it out of him, he wouldn’t disclose it.

Still, my cock wanted inside her tight, wet pussy. It didn’t care about the reason. Just her. She was mine, from the very moment she landed in my arms. And I’d burn this whole motherfucking world down to keep her. Nobody would take her away from me again.

In my own bedroom, I laid down in my bed, silently cursing myself for taking it so far. Now I was rock-hard and risking getting blue balls. Except the need to touch her was an itch that demanded to be scratched. I had to feel her soft skin, or risk losing my goddamn mind.

So I succumbed to the temptation. And now, restlessness ghosted under my skin, demanding I go back and take her.