Home > Deviant Prince : Born to Darkness(11)

Deviant Prince : Born to Darkness(11)
Author: Claire C. Riley

I silently begged him to come. My touch was desperate and urgent but with practiced skill, working against his warm skin until he came in a thick, hot stream, staining his pants and dripping on my hand as I milked him for all he was worth. Ivan shuddered, his eyes half closed, and it was all he could do to steer us into our driveway and press the garage opener. The front gate security and valet was off for the evening.

When he pulled to a stop inside the shadowed building, his eyes found mine. And then his hand unclipped my seatbelt and his fingers found the back of my head. He pulled me downwards, towards the warm cum and his now flaccid cock. I’d never actually been nauseous tonight, but as I twisted in my seat to give him what he wanted, and as he pushed my mouth down onto his limp dick, I felt bile fill my mouth.

I closed my eyes and pretended Ivan was someone else.

Someone who kissed me fiercely in the cool evening air beneath the stars.

 

 

Chapter Seven

Alexander

 

The blonde cried out with both pleasure and pain as my palm landed deftly on her backside. I smoothed my hand over the rising imprint, my hand already itching to give her another. She looked back over her shoulder at me, her eyes wide with delight and hunger and my mouth quirked.

I loved that look on a woman; where they didn’t know whether they were coming or going, whether to stop me or beg me for more. Confused by their own body’s response to the pain I gave them whilst simultaneously giving them pleasure.

She gasped as I reached down and cupped the space between her legs and gently, but firmly, smeared her own juices over her clit and all the way back to her asshole. Whimpering she pressed back against my hand, eager for me to touch her more firmly.

I swung back and spanked her ass twice as hard as previously for the misdemeanor, and she whimpered, her body going tense across my lap. She panted, desperate for me to fill her and so I pulled her body up and lay her on the bed before dragging her up to her knees. I ran my hand down her spine, watching as she lifted her ass up ready for me to fill her. I was hard already and so I climbed on the bed and readied myself behind her. My hands moved over her smooth flesh, still pink from my spankings and I held myself at her entrance before sliding into her. She groaned and lowered her head as I filled her to the hilt, my girth stretching her wider than she was used to.

“Yes, sweetheart,” I said, reaching to grab a fist full of her long hair and raising her head back up. Her back automatically arched and gave levity to the angle of my cock and I hissed between my teeth as she clamped tighter around me.

I swung my hand back again, eager to see the blossom of my palm on her skin, but no matter how much I thrust and how much I spanked, no matter how much she squeezed my cock for everything her pussy was worth, my mind was elsewhere. With someone else.

Marisha’s downcast face came into my mind, her hair thick and curled around her slender shoulders. Her plum lips swollen from my kisses. The point of her hardened nipples showing through the silky green material of her dress. God, she couldn’t have been wearing anything beneath, or if she was then it was impossibly thin. It had been so tempting—so tempting—to pull back the dress and see her excitement for myself. In the flesh, naked and real and obviously wanting me.

I groaned at the memory of her tongue on mine, the hunger in her kiss, the desperation to end it and the desire for more.

More. I wanted to give her so much more.

I had to see her again. No matter the consequences. I hadn’t imagined her desire—she had wanted me, then and there in the shadows of the rooftop. But the place, the timing, it was all wrong. I’d correct that the next time. And I’d fulfill her desire in such a way that she’d come away addicted, ruined, satisfied. Even if it was just for one night. I could live with that. One quick fuck and I could move on from her and she could go back to Ivan; he’d be none the wiser and we’d both be sated. Though one fuck with me was never enough for a woman.

Yes, I had to have her.

I’d thought a kiss would be enough, but it wasn’t. I wanted to see her body crumble beneath my firm grip, her skin blossoming under my touch, the join of our bodies as I slid inside of her, her tits filling my palm…

I came suddenly, gripping the pretty blonde’s ass with my large hands and holding her body tight to mine as I circled my hips, cock rubbing every inch inside of her, enticing her pussy to squeeze tighter around me as she chased her own climax.

“Fuck,” I groaned, sweat glistening down my chest and abs as I took a heavy breath. “Fuck.”

Marisha’s smile came into my mind, her plum lips spreading wide as her tongue darted out to taunt me.

I’ll have you Marisha Zolotov, mark my words.

 

*

 

“Father,” I sat opposite my father in his study, his gaze focusing on paperwork. For the Bratva King he was especially keen on always having the correct paperwork. The hilarity of that never failed to amaze me, but as my mother always said; a job worth doing, was worth doing properly… even if that job was being a ruthless mafia king.

Leaving a perfectly curated paper trail of all of our legitimate and… less than legitimate business dealings though, would always be humorous to me.

“Alexander,” he replied, looking up from his work and sliding his glasses off his face to see me more clearly. “Did you enjoy last night?”

I hadn’t seen him before leaving the party and he was pissy about it. I didn’t blame him; it was unprofessional and not like me at all. I was his right-hand man; I didn’t shirk my duties. I wanted to learn every aspect of his business and be ready for his retirement. I had made a point of being beside him for every meeting for the past two years. Of course, that was not only for my own benefit. The soldiers needed to see the transition of power. The prominent businessmen and politicians under our thumb needed to recognize my authority. When the time came, the change of crown would be easier.

Unfortunately, I’d forgotten about last night’s planned meeting at the party between my father and the heads of a business venture gone unexpectedly South. The issues were a matter of supply and the market, so it was a clean affair. No blood involved. No violence necessary.

Regardless, a party was never just a party. No one, save for members of my immediate family, warranted a soiree of that caliber. There was always an ulterior motive. The champagne and the caviar and the fancy locations always served a secondary purpose—mafia meetings were less obvious dressed up in ribbons and bows.

But, hell, after fucking the blonde Nikolai and I had left and gone to a club. I wasn’t sure what time it was when I got in, but the sun was rising and I’d practically drunk myself sober. Thoughts of Marisha had haunted my every move. Every woman was her. Every kiss I’d stolen was hers. Every set of lustful eyes upon me were hers. I needed to have her and move on, and quickly. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d been so obsessed with a woman.

Never. The answer was never.

I lowered my gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry, Father.”

He remained silent, waiting for me to apologize more. He was a fair man, but his disappointment in me this time required a lot more begging than I was used to.

“I got distracted,” I began, “a woman, you know how these things can be.” Appealing to a man’s want of women and wine might have worked on another man, but not my father. Yet, to my surprise, he seemed to perk up at my words.

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