Pierce_Perfectly Bad_a Bad Boy Mafia Dark Romance

by Alice May Ball

  Her eyes widened and rolled as I raised her up, hoisting her up to my shoulders. I gripped her firmly by the bottoms of her thighs. Her head bent against the roof of the corridor as she swung her legs over my shoulders.

  The fabulous scent of her flower drifted and swelled and I saw her lips in front of me. Near enough that I could stretch my tongue out.

  I would trace the soft, weeping wings, gently, softly part them. Run my tongue down the length of her. Press deep into the back, then drag forward. Probing. Pushing. Deeper. Farther. So that by the time I reached the front, the tip of my tongue would taste the juice of her from deep inside. Pierce between her wet, eager walls. Push and rub, high into the front of her. Find that spot.

  While the flat of my tongue rolled against the underside of her zinging bean. Flatten her petals and her hood. And buzz. Inside her and out. Until she shook. Quaked. Clenched and thrashed. Cried out, crested and gushed into my wet, open, greedy mouth.

  My voice was gravel. I growled into her pussy, “Come for me.”

  Softly I kissed the insides of her thighs. Teasing, I flicked my tongue over the creases at the tops of her thighs. I loved her shudder as I stretched to lick and caress the bottoms of her cheeks. I slipped the tip down the cleavage of her ass. She jolted. Hard. I filed that away.

  Then. I let my tongue trace the lines of her lips. Map and part the lovely folds. Turn around in the hood of her gleaming pearl. Lift it so I could softly blow warm breath onto it. Mix the warmth from inside me with the heat rising in her.

  My fingers slid along the edges and the cleavage of her ass. She shuddered again. then I let the tips of my fingers come to the tops of her thighs. Reach in. Join with my mouth to follow and caress the lines of her hot, wet lips.

  My lips pushed back her hood. I drew cool air in and let it blow it out over her stalk. Flicked with the lightest touch of the tip of my tongue. Then sucked.

  She cried out, “Oh, god, yes.”

  He fingers trembled as they clutched in my hair. Her body bent over my head. “Oh, your cock.” She stretched a hand down my face.

  Her lips swelled. I reamed my tongue between them. She was so firm and tight. I had a thought, but it couldn’t be true. I dismissed it. I plunged my tongue inside her. Her walls were strong and needy. They vibrated and fluttered in a way that made me almost come as I probed her. Her flower was so tender and so tight, the thought came again, What if… but I chased it away. It wouldn’t have made me want her more, even if it were true.

  Nothing could. She rocked her hips into my face and she bounced on my shoulders. Forcefully I pressed the length of my tongue high inside her, lashing the length of her tight canal and pressing up. Meanwhile my lips pressed against her petals and flexed over her clit.

  Farther, deeper, longer than ever, I licked and pushed and flicked my tongue inside her.

  Her hands were wild on my head. Along my neck. Down my chest. “My god your tongue is wonderful.” Her voice was tightening and her hips rocked hard into my face. “It’s enormous.” she shouted as she came.

  Her wet walls quivered as they flexed and relaxed, suckling and squeezing my tongue.

  “Huge,” Her thighs clamped around my head, made it hard for me to hear. Still I sucked and licked. She tasted divine as she yelled, “Like your cock.”

  Her hips jammed against my face, letting me reach even deeper, taste even more of her dark honey juices.

  She groaned and gasped as her back arced and she clenched all over.

  “Your cock,” she moaned, “It must be as big as…” she stopped. Pulled back. Grabbed my hair in both hands. Yanked back my head as she looked down. She stared in my face. I wouldn’t ever have been able to hold myself back then if I hadn’t stowed my cock back into my pants earlier.

  “Be my princess,” I told her. She bounced like a bomb had gone off.

  The torture in her moist, reddening face couldn’t possibly have hurt more for her than it felt for me, watching the realization grow.

  “That’s who you are.” She jumped to the floor. My face was slick and sticky with her honey and I tried hard not to grin. When girls realized who I was, it was always a special moment. She shouted, “You fucker.”

  She stepped back. She slapped my face again. I was starting to like it. I was confused.

  “The Fucking Crown Prince.” she glowered. “that’s literally what they call you, isn’t it? ‘The Fucking Crown Prince.’” The words spat, hot from, her lips. “What is it they say in the royal-watchers’ blogs? ‘He’ll rip you in twain,’ ‘pierce you from tush to crown,’ ‘fuck you till the top of his dick comes out of your mouth’?”

  It was true. Those idiots did say all of those things. I tried to tell her. Explain. Let her know her that they were just stupid stories. They weren’t true. Well, not really true. Okay, they were a bit true. Some of them. There had been a few maidens. They were pretty willing and eager as I clearly recall. I was babbling.

  I’m a man of action. Talking has never been my strong suit.

  Her lips tightened. “See? ‘Just a few maidens.’” she snarled. “I bet there have been thousands.”

  Might have been a couple of hundred, truth be told. I kept quiet. I’m not a complete idiot.

  “Well, I’m not going to be one of your ‘just a few.’ I’m not going to wake up and read about myself in a blog like Scepter Watch or Royal Banger.”

  Even as she spoke, her mound scraped up and down the length of my cock. It would be so sensational to slip it inside her. She knew it, too.

  “Come on,” I urged her. I was to the point of taking her. I had her panties off already. I could have lifted her up again and lowered her onto the Royal Staff. She would have loved it. We both would.

  “I fucking hate you.” and she slapped me again. I was starting to be annoyed now. What had I done? Really? I rescued her from a potential catastrophe, followed her meek as a lamb. Okay, not so much on the meek. And then I gave her, well, started to give her, what she was obviously gasping for. She got a throat ripping orgasm from the royal tongue, and straight away she turned on me. What the royal fucking fuck?

  “You dumb, stupid fucking crown prince.”

  I glowered back at her, dumbfounded. I’d never been refused anything in my life before that. Never. Why should I be? I’m the crown fucking prince.

  “Your cock is wonderful.” Her breath rasped, “It’s marvelous. It’s unbelievably huge. And it’s hot. And it’s throbbing so hard, it makes me want to swallow it down until I choke.” Her fingers ran up and down the length of it as her face contorted in what looked like agony.

  I smiled then. And I pulled her closer.

  She pushed back. “Your massive cock is a legend unto itself.” Her thighs parted wider. “And if it were attached to any other man on earth I would have it up every part of me right now. I wouldn’t surrender my virginity, I would sling it. Rip it. Rend it. Drag it apart with a song on your fabulous column,” and now her face was a snarling sneer, “But you…”

  With a tortured look like she had uncovered treachery she turned and she was gone.

  Serena

  ELL, I REMEMBER thinking as I ran from the club, That’s my life ruined.

  That moment was when I knew for sure that I was never going to find the man of my dreams. Because I found him and he’s a world-famous pant-snake. A one and done royal swordsman.

  Add to that, I was certainly going to lose my job. Maybe that was for the best. Lately it started to seem like I was suffering with delusions of adequacy, thinking I could pay off my student loans and help my father out of the hole of debt he had been trapped into and do it all with just honest, hard work. Now my best option was the one I probably should have taken when it was first offered.

  Swallow my pride and swallow the marriage proposal and swallow all that would go along with it. Including the humiliation of having to crawl back to the man I had rejected with such a force.

  I had to confide in someone. I called my closest friend, Clo
dagh. I swore her to secrecy but as she admitted, “I can keep anything except secrets, money, and men. Oh, and chocolate I’m not so good on. Or wine. Anything else, I’m Fort Knox.”

  “This time you have to, Clodagh. Promise me. This is serious.”

  “Ooh!” her voice on the phone got breathy, “Sounds sexy.”

  “Okay, it is. But you have to keep it to yourself. You promise?”

  “Serena, you know what I’m like.”

  “Seriously, Clodagh. Please.”

  Her need to know got the better of her eagerness to gossip. At least for now it did.

  “Okay. But you have to tell me everything. Right? Every. Thing.”

  So, I did. I hesitated about telling her who he was, but from my description right at the beginning, when he prowled into HornDogz, tall, commanding and with that animal grace, she squealed into the phone, “Squee!” She literally said, squee. “It’s him! Oh my eff gee!”

  “You have to keep your promise, Clodagh. You see why I told you it was important?” Even then I thought I needed a backup plan, “And that’s your assumption. I haven’t said anything.”

  “No, no, no. Of course. I understand.” then, “It is, though, isn’t it! It’s fucking him! Serena it can’t be. Oh, wow. Just. Fucking. Wow.”

  “Clodagh, if you repeat that I’ll deny it. I’ll call you a liar.”

  “Understood.” She calmed down. Some. Then she said, “So you have to tell me every detail. Don’t hold back a single breath, Serena.”

  I gave her as much of what happened as I dared. Probably more than I should have. Well, no. Definitely more than I should have. I shouldn’t have told any of it to anyone, and especially not to Clodagh.

  After I told her she sounded exhausted. I felt completely wiped out.

  Before we hung up she said, “Are you sure it’s worth you hanging on to, you know, your special thing?”

  “I haven’t really been hanging on to it, you know? I just haven’t been in a situation where I really wanted to give it up.”

  “Not tonight?”

  “Tonight, I would have ripped it up. I would have thrown it away to the winds.”

  “Oh,” she sounded distracted, “Me, too.”

  “But he’s a total bastard.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t believe all that you read in the blogs.”

  “I don’t read any of it. You know I don’t. If even I know that he’s a bastard, he really must be.”

  “Still…”

  “Clodagh!”

  “Okay. But I mean, supposing. You know, just supposing… if you’d given him an heir…”

  “You know as well as I do that if a girl conceives by a prince one day before they’re married, she’s never going to marry him.”

  “Royalty do always take pretty good care of their unofficial offspring, you know.”

  I didn’t want to follow Clodagh down that path. She was still going. “Everybody knows that the father of Prince…”

  I cut her off. “I need you to support me, Clodagh.”

  Her voice firmed right up. I could almost hear her straighten in her seat. “You’re right, Serena. I’m here for you. Whatever you need. Hey, you want to meet up for a hot chocolate?”

  “Tomorrow, Clodagh. I need sleep. I’m pretty sure I need to find a new job tomorrow.”

  My father owed money. A lot of money. He had a great idea for a baby alarm. It seemed pretty revolutionary to me. He found an investor who seemed experienced and was very wealthy as well as being well placed in the government of neighboring Uglagistan.

  The long and short of it is that the wealthy and powerful minister turned out to be an expert swindler. He used Daddy’s invention as cover for some horrible arms deal and, as if that weren’t enough, he ran the business into a massive debt. And he had Daddy’s signature on the deeds to prove liability.

  I never trusted the ugly, pompous man. From the first time Daddy told me about him I was suspicious of his public smile and the great show he made of respectability.

  I even asked my father, “Respectable people don’t usually have to keep saying how respectable they are, do they? Like clever people never have to tell you that they’re clever. You can see it.” But Daddy wanted his invention to succeed and I think he was blinded by the Uglagistan minister’s riches.

  When it all went horribly wrong, Daddy was facing not only the debts but maybe even jail and so, while I was still in college, even while I was working on my final papers, I worked two jobs and paid off what I could.

  The first time I went to his huge, dark apartment, in rooms high up in an old Gothic mansion, he made his offer. “Would you like to work off the money instead? It’s not so much. I think there may be something you could for me that would work it off.”

  I told him that giving him the money was fine and I wasn’t interested.

  “Surely, you must want to know what it is. Aren’t you a business studies major? How can you know judge the worth of a deal if you don’t know what the bargain entails?”

  As he looked me up and down, his neck craned as he tried to get a better look at my ass. “Turn around, would you dear?”

  His eyes slipped and slithered all over me.

  I could have told him that I thought I could make a good enough guess what his ‘deal’ was, but I knew he was just trying to needle me into talking about it. I was sure that getting into more detail would not make make me more likely to accept any of his ‘bargains.’ But it could give him satisfactions that I didn’t want to be around to see.

  “You asked me to bring the money.” I said, simply, “Here it is.”

  I held out the money but he made no move to take it. He prowled around me. “I could be very happy,” his grin was razor sharp, “Knowing that after a hard day on the great offices of State,” he loved to brag about how important he was, “I could come home to rest in the comfort and joy of your welcoming bosom.”

  Still he didn’t take the money. When I first took over covering father’s debts, I tried to make the monthly payments by a bank transfer, or an online payment, or even by a check in the mail.

  Father’s creditor didn’t want any of that. It was as though having me make the journey, my going to him, and our meetings were as important to him as the money. Maybe more important. He seemed keen to trade and I sensed he would have been happy to have more visit and less money. But I was in no doubt, what he wanted was more of my company, and he wanted more of me to be available to him.

  From that first time, it was the same every month and every month I dreaded the journey to the Gothic quarter of our capital city.

  Every month I went to him with the money I scraped together. Every month I had to bite my tongue as he leered and told me we could make, “A better arrangement.” He bent his face closer to mine. The lids of his bulging eyes slid down and up like fleshy shutters.

  “Do you know what I mean?” The point of his tongues flicked around the corners of his hard grin. “Your talents would be a far better payment than these measly installments against your stupid father’s gigantic debts.”

  Yes, I knew what he meant. But, just in case, he enjoyed taking the opportunity to tell me. In awful detail.