The Bastard Prince (Crellids Book 1)

by Chloe Walsh

  Trembling from head to toe, I sagged against the partition as he pushed my pencil skirt up to pool at my hips and made short work of my panties.

  "Spread your legs for me," he ordered, sounding furious. "Now, corderito."

  Panting, I did as I was told, baring myself to him. "Trig –"

  "I am going to fuck you in my God's house," he snarled, burying his face between my thighs. "Because you are a devil woman and this is what you do to me."

  Hitching one of my thighs over his shoulder, he started to feast on me, licking and sucking like a starved man at a banquet.

  "You make me weak." He speared me with his tongue. "You make me so hungry that I cannot think of anything other than your tight, little pussy around my cock." Growling, he plunged a finger deep inside me. "You are a bad fucking woman for me." He pushed another finger inside me. "And I cannot keep you out of my head."

  "Fuck," I cried out, arching my hips into his face. "Jesus fucking Christ – ouch!" I cried out when he bit down on my clit.

  "It is in poor taste to take the lord's name in vain, corderito," he explained, soothing my clit with his tongue. "Bad little lamb."

  "You wanna talk about poor taste?" I strangled out, writhing against his face in the tiny space we were in. "You're licking me out in a church."

  "I am going to fuck you in a church," he corrected. "This is just a preview." With that, he ripped his hands and mouth away and reached for his belt. "Are you going to show me how much you hate me, sweetheart?" he purred, pushing his slacks down his hips and freeing his erection. "Are you going to ride my cock and tell me all the terrible things I do to you?"

  Exhaling raggedly, I lunged for his lap, straddling his hips.

  "I do hate you," I moaned, crushing my lips to his and tasting myself on his tongue. "So much," I breathed, sliding my tongue into his mouth. "Bad wolf," I groaned against his lips.

  "Oh, I know…" he crooned, guiding his cock into my tight hole. "You tell me all about it, mi reina." Hands moving to my hips, he dragged me down on his lap, impaling me with his thick shaft. "That's it," he coaxed when I cried out achingly loudly. "Shh, my little lamb. Nice and quiet for your wolf." Bouncing me up and down on his hard cock, he trailed his tongue down my neck, sinking his teeth into my shoulder. "Now, tell me all about the bad man with his cock inside you."

  "Fuck me," I cried out, moving faster on top of him, as the familiar sparks of pleasure rippled and grew inside of me. "Fuck me harder… Jesus… Please."

  "Ah-ah," he tutted, scolding me. Knotting a hand in my hair, he roughly tugged my head back, baring my neck to him. "What did I tell you about taking the lord's name in vain?"

  "I'm a bad lamb," I whimpered, when he bit down on my neck. "Own my pussy."

  "Oh, corderito," he growled, fucking me harder now. "I have always owned your pussy."

  "Hmm." Nodding like a deranged lunatic, I bounced vigorously on his lap, desperate for friction.

  "Love me again," he whispered before pressing a fierce kiss to my lips. "I dare you."

  "No," I breathed against his lips, wrapping my arms around his neck and clinging to his big body. "I hate you."

  "Bad lamb," he chuckled and then punished me with a wicked rhythm of frantic fucking. "Reina malvada."

  The sound of a door clicking filled my ears then, followed by a man's voice. "Tienes un mensaje para mi, Salvatore?"

  You have a message for me, Salvatore.

  Freezing on top of his lap, filled with his cock, I gaped down at Trig in horror.

  "Oh god," I mouthed. "The priest."

  The priest was here.

  The freaking priest!

  "Hoy no hay mensajes, padre." Smirking, Trig clamped his hands down on my hips, continuing to rock me onto his cock. "Vine a confesar mis pecados hoy."

  There are no messages today, father, I mentally translated Trig's response. I came to confess my sins.

  "Yeah fucking right," I mouthed to my lover, "confess your sins while your dicking me –"

  He thrust roughly inside of me and I had to bite back a scream.

  Aroused, my eyes rolled back as a throaty moan escaped my lips.

  "Bad lamb," he whispered in my ear. "Shh."

  Trailing his tongue over my bottom lip, he lifted me off his cock and turned me in his arms so that I, too, was facing the partition separating us from the priest.

  "Bendíceme padre porque he pecado," Trig said, addressing the priest, as he lowered me back down on his cock.

  Bless me, father, for I have sinned.

  "Han pasado siete días desde mi última confesión," he added, drawing my back to his chest, still thrusting deep inside me. "Todavía estoy fascinado por la bruja."

  Seven days have passed since my last confession and I am still fascinated by the witch.

  Clamping one hand over my mouth, he reached between my legs with the other. "Trig," I breathed, but his hand swallowed up the sound.

  "Ella me lleva por un mal camino." Nuzzling my neck with his nose, he tugged on my earlobe. "En la tentación."

  She leads me astray…into temptation.

  He pinched my clit and I came apart in his arms, body spasming violently, pussy contracting tightly around him.

  Hissing out a sharp breath, I felt him come inside me, filling me up with his hot seed. "No puedo alejarme de ella," Trig managed to hiss as he continued to ride his orgasm as my pussy milked him dry.

  I cannot keep away from her.

  Grabbing my chin in his hand, he turned my face to his and captured my lips, fucking my mouth with his tongue as his hips slowed to a gentle rocking rhythm.

  Trembling, I sagged against his chest, nuzzling his nose with mine, and pressing lazy pecks to his lips.

  "Cual es mi penitencia, padre?" he asked the priest gruffly, but kept his eyes locked on mine. "¿Crees que puedo ser salvo?"

  What is my penance, father?

  Do you think I can be saved?

  11

  Thoroughly fucked and deliciously sated, I lazed in the backseat of the Bentley, with my head on Trigger's lap, and his perfectly rolled joint pursed between my lips.

  Even though he had his Ray Bans on, I could tell he was watching me.

  High or not, I could feel his stare right down to my bones and it thrilled me.

  Waiting until my lungs were full of smoke, Trigger slowly withdrew the joint from my lips before pressing it between his.

  "I fucking love fucking," I breathed, blowing a cloud of smoke into his face. High off of weed and drunk off the hard fuck he'd given me in the church confession box, I laughed to myself. "You hate-fuck me so good, Trig."

  Leaning in close to my face, he exhaled the smoke from his lungs into mine and grinned. "Bad lamb."

  Baring my teeth, I playfully snapped my teeth. "Bad wolf."

  "Aye, aye, aye," Patrice grumbled from the driver's seat. "All of the animals fucking…makes for mucho confusing."

  "Confusion," I corrected before reaching up to capture his jefe's lips.

  Our drug-fueled kiss was all tongue and teeth and I fucking loved it almost as much as I hated him.

  Reveling in the flavors on his tongue, I moaned into his mouth, wanting nothing more than to have him inside of me again.

  Uncaring of Patrice's presence, uncaring of anything at all, I twisted onto my stomach and crawled onto his lap.

  "Want me again," I breathed against his lips, as my hands moved for the buckle of his belt. "Keep me, own me, and make me your queen."

  "I already own you," came his hungered replied as he reached between us and pushed his pants down his hips and freed his hard cock. "Now, please your king, mi reina."

  Too aroused to think clearly, I pushed my panties aside and sank down on his thick crown. My clit was swollen, my pussy was sore from being overfucked, but it didn’t stop me from taking Trigger back into my body.

  In this moment, and with my current state of mind, I wanted to ride his dick until my lungs burst and my heart stopped beating.

  "Wan
t me again," he demanded huskily, repeating my earlier pleas. Hooking one strong arm around my waist, he fucked me harder than ever, hips thrusting in a relentless upwards rhythm, until my head was hammering against the roof of the car. "Love me again."

  "I love this dick!" I cried out, planting my palms on the roof to brace myself against his manic fucking. "Oh fuck, Trig, I love this dick."

  A guttural snarl of approval ripped from his chest.

  "Feel me break you in," he growled, bouncing my hips up and down on his lap. "Get acquainted with my cock, corderito, because it is the only one you will take into your body."

  "Good," I half-hissed, half-screamed, as my need and desperation for this cruel man threatened to consume me. "Fuck, Trig, don’t ever stop –"

  A scream ripped from my throat just as the car door swung open and the orgasm I had been chasing rocketed through my body.

  Jerking and twitching violently, I rode the wave of bliss, all while my clouded brain tried to make sense of what was happening.

  Several of Fabio's armed heavies swarmed us and it wasn't until that exact moment that I realized we were back.

  Back at the estate.

  Back to reality.

  Back to hell.

  12

  The electricity supply to the compound was out, not from the force of the storm raging outside, but as a security measure.

  There was a war waging just outside my window, and blood was spraying down on the cobbled courtyard quicker than the pelting rain, joined by shells and lifeless corpses.

  The walls of Fabio's private estate had been breached, and it was a complete bloodbath out there.

  The moment the sirens alarmed, the estate had been doused in darkness, protecting the contents hidden inside from prying eyes.

  The compound was in lockdown, with every room in the house automatically locking shut through the so-called system.

  The whores were safely tucked away in their cages, while the men went to war outside.

  Everyone was exactly where they were supposed to be, with the exception of, well, me.

  I wasn’t fearful of the mayhem unfolding before my eyes, though.

  I was captivated.

  Enemies, lovers, kings and clowns, in the end, they all fall down...

  I smiled to myself, reciting my poem over and over until I felt high off the smell of death.

  From my perch behind the thick, dark curtain in the living room area of his quarters, I watched, mesmerized, as bullets flew through the air.

  Some claimed and imbedded themselves inside the flesh of men.

  Others cracked against the walls of the out buildings and front exterior of the mansion.

  Fabio had climbed into bed with an elusive, on-the-rise Mexican drug lord, straying from his usual associates, and this fine display of bloodshed was a result of a multi-million-dollar drug cartel gone pear-shaped.

  Everyone on the ladder was involved, from falcons to hitmen, lieutenants to Fabio himself.

  Fuck, even Jet was out there somewhere, crying like a bitch into his AR-15.

  It was a goddamn waste to give him such power.

  I rolled my eyes at the thought.

  Now, put that in my hands and I could move some mountains.

  Alas, my possession of a pussy held its own restrictions, keeping me shackled to the mansion.

  Still, there was more to power than physical strength and my mind was a fortress, containing more secrets and knowledge than any of these stupid men could comprehend.

  It's happening tonight, I mused. The army is rising.

  With my hands clasped behind my back, I silently reveled in the pleasure coursing through my veins as Fabio and his men rained hell down on their so-called traitors.

  He had been betrayed by the Mexican SLUR cartel, three million dollars' worth of brown powdered betrayal, and he was out for their king's blood.

  Or so he thought.

  My lips twitched at the notion.

  He was searching for a king to kill.

  He should have been searching for a queen.

  He needed to start reading between the lines.

  S.L.U.R

  Se levantará una reina.

  A queen will rise.

  A bullet whizzed past my face then, shattering the pane of glass and sprinkling shards all over my nightdress. I knew exactly who sent that bullet my way and excitement bubbled inside of me.

  He was out there somewhere in the darkness, moving like a ghost, like a warrior, and it thrilled me.

  My warrior.

  My soldier.

  Mi rey.

  That single bullet was a message from my king.

  It's time.

  Dropping to my hands and knees, I crawled across the floor, moving over shattered glass and splinters of wood, not stopping until my hand was curled around the door handle.

  Hand steady as a rock, I waited until I heard the signal of three more shots in quick succession and then I turned the handle.

  It clicked and opened.

  Bingo.

  I grinned before silently pulling it open and creeping into the darkness.

  Climbing to my feet, I moved on both instinct and memory, ghosting through the hallways like my body wasn't a physical being, and in this moment, it wasn't.

  Drunk off power and laden down with more hope than I'd felt in years, I followed protocol, with only one objective in mind; complete my mission and please my king.

  Light on my feet and without the threat of security cameras tracking my movements, I headed straight for the lair.

  Keeping my back to the door, I reached into the waistband of my panties and extracted my faithful dagger.

  The odds of running into a Crellid guard when their king was outside and needed their protection was slim, but I remained cautious, with my killer instinct soaring high.

  Counting down from ten, I waited for the familiar three-shot signal before I tested the door.

  Fucking Patrice and his dumb ass signals.

  Stupid Fabio and his so-called impenetrable alarm system.

  When the shots came, I wasted no time in turning the knob and slipped inside the room where I'd witnessed more bloodshed than was currently coating the ground outside.

  Like I predicted, there was no guard to handle, but there was a whore to contend with.

  Aw shit.

  Stifling a frustrated growl when I spotted her through the moonlight, strapped to a bed, I ignored her entirely and went straight for his desk.

  She whimpered and pleaded with me, begging me for things I could not give her, and making my patience wear thin.

  This bitch needed to fuck right off.

  I had a job to do.

  I was getting myself the hell out of here.

  Her life meant nothing to me.

  It couldn’t.

  If I allowed myself to feel for her, I would bend and crack under the crippling weight of my morbid reality.

  Therefore, I hunted for the flash drive I had been instructed to find and dutifully ignored her pleas.

  Carefully opening and closing drawer after drawer, I finally found what I'd come for.

  Sagging in relief, I plucked the flash drive from the drawer and replaced it with the dummy one stuffed inside my panties.

  Childish as it was, I couldn’t resist rubbing the dummy stick between my ass cheeks before tossing it into drawer and pocketing the real one in my undies.

  "I hope you get pink eye, you prick," I mouthed, glaring at his huge, throne-like chair.

  Three more gunshots alerted me that it was time to move.

  Rolling my shoulders, I inhaled a steadying breath through my nose, retrieved my dagger from where I'd set it down on his desk, and moved for the door.

  "Wait!" the whore choked out, head thrashing wildly from side to side as she tried to dislodge her blindfold. "Please don’t leave me."

  Clenching my teeth, I forced myself to not react like I wanted to.

  Masking my horror with agitation, I threw
myself head first into my irritation.

  It was safer.

  It was sensible.

  Ignoring her, I padded to the door, mission almost complete. I only had one more thing to do.

  One order left to obey.

  Return safely to him.

  And I intended to do just that.

  "Heiress whore, I know it's you," she continued to wail, sobbing and pulling against the restraints that bound her hands and feet to the bed. "I can smell your perfume."

  Well, shit.

  That wasn't good.

  "You smell better than the rest of us."

  Well, of course I do, I wanted to say. I'm not a whore.

  "Kill me," she hurried to say, sensing that she had captured my attention. "Please…" Panting, she licked her lips and exhaled shakily. "Just put me down."

  I stiffened. "No."

  "Please."

  "No."

  "Why not?" she demanded. "You've killed before. You're no angel."

  "Because I don’t feel like it," was all I replied.

  "You are such a fucking teenager," she hissed. "Dammit to hell."

  I rolled my eyes. "Bye bitch."

  "Wait!" She wailed loudly and thrashed against her restraints. "I'm being enslaved," she screamed. "And you don’t care."

  "We're all slaves," I reminded her. "Luckily for you and the other whores downstairs, your suffering will be short-lived. Your slavery will last a few more years and then your bodies will give out from disease or exhaustion. I will be kept alive for much longer." I narrowed my eyes. "You are here to be fucked. I am here to be both fucked and bred." She sucked in a sharp breath. "I'm a vessel," I continued. "To breed the scum of The Order. As many as my womb can produce. And then I will be milked like a cow for nourishment before they take their children from me and breed me again. Rape. Produce. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Until I am nothing."

  "You think that's worse?" she demanded hoarsely. "You have no fucking idea, princess. No goddamn clue. You're pampered and indulged. Wait until you come of age. You'll pray for death just like me, and I hope like fuck that no one shows you mercy!"