“Let me show you how I worship my king.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, he’s deep-throating me and teasing my hole with a wet finger. He doesn’t push in, only presses against it, making me buck toward him. With a loud slurping sound, he’s taking my balls again, all while grabbing the lube. My prince knows how to use his mouth and hands in tandem.
I’m delirious when he finally sinks a single digit in me. There’s a little pinch, but as he taunts me to the brink of orgasm, I’m too high to care. He adds a second finger and sucks me slowly at the same time. The roughness of his hand mixed with the velvet of his tongue bring me near combustion. As he senses it, he stops his cock ministrations, adds a third finger, and presses into my prostate like it’s a video game.
“Fucking Christ,” I groan, squeezing his hand.
“Close enough,” he jokes. “Relax for me, baby.”
I do, and he eases his fingers out.
“Look at me.” It’s a command, a frenzied one.
I do. His honey eyes are brighter than I’ve ever seen them.
“Watch me worship you.”
And he eases into me, his cock breaching easily. It only stings until I fully relax. Once he’s seated in me, the frantic thirst filling my veins has me wiggling.
“Move,” I hiss, needing the friction, the heat, the pleasure-pain.
“Can’t. Going to come if I do.” It’s barely a breath, coming out strained.
He inhales, and I start stroking my dick, needing something. His eyes darken, watching me work myself over.
“Fuck it,” he barks, and then he’s moving in me. It’s hard and hot. Perfect. So perfect.
“Ah, fuck,” I moan, panting as I try to rub myself off.
He pulls out, bringing barrenness I’m not used to. Laying down next to me, he turns his head my way. “I want you to take, husband. Sit on my cock and top me from the bottom.” His gaze flames when I take his mouth, sucking on his lip ring in the process.
Rising to my feet, I grab the bottle of lube and pour it on his dick. It’s red and angry, probably so close to the edge he won’t last long. Mine is pointed straight forward, angrier, needier, barely holding onto its seed. He watches me as I ghost over him, and when I line him up to my ass, his gaze finally drops, and the hiss he lets out only gets louder as I sink onto him.
“Fist my cock, little prince. Don’t come until I say.”
“Fuck, that’s going to be hard,” he complains, gripping my length in his palm, pouring lube over his hand a second later.
“Whoever comes first has to deal with Darcy,” I wager, making him narrow his eyes. Darcy is our most talkative and obnoxious bartender. She works well, but she never shuts up.
“Deal. We both know who can’t stand her more,” he mocks, thrusting upward and forcing me to flatten my hands on his abs as chills break out over my flesh. This is where they belong, worshiping his body, bringing him rapture, and taking whatever they damn well please.
I use his muscles as leverage, rise on his swollen rod, and slam back down. This time, it’s both of us who groan.
Adjusting to this new position, I test the rise and fall of my hips, using my thighs to lift. My little prince has sweat all over his chest, matching the wetness on my spine.
We move together, our synced noises flirting the edge of abandon. When he rotates as I go down, he hits my prostate, and it’s game over for us both. I practically bounce on him, holding myself up with one arm and grabbing his balls with the other. His pace on my cock quickens, and he squeezes harder, making me see every fucking color.
It doesn’t take long before spots blur my vision. “Come for me, little prince. Fill me up.”
He detonates. I feel him jerk in me, and that sets me off. My cum splashes on him in long ropes, shooting farther and farther with each continued pump. When we’re both panting and exhausted, he takes a drag through my release and brings it to my mouth.
“Suck,” he croaks.
And I do, licking his fingers until he’s whimpering. Lifting off of him, I bring our mouths together and make him taste our shared love.
“Now, that’s how you top a bottom,” he wheezes, nipping my lip.
“Correction. That’s how you do a proper switch,” I tease, pinching his nipple.
“I love you, my king,” he promises, putting a hand over my heart and tattoo.
I repeat his action over his heart and ink, and amber meets honey. “I love you too, little prince. More, not less.”
The End
About C.L. Matthews
C.L. Matthews lives in lala-landia with her husband and invisible friends. She wants to riot the lack thereof authentic Mexican food in her state, but she’s an introvert at heart. She enjoys tacos, Red Bull, and warm water, because she’s crazy. She’s an oddball, and realizes it’s been mentioned before, just go with it. Her joys in life consist of writing unconventional romances, making book covers, causing havoc to her reader’s hearts, and genre hopping when she needs a change of scenery. She’s a special kind of weird and enjoys every moment of it.
Website: clmatthewsbooks.com
Illicit
C.M. Radcliff
Blurb
I have one job to carry out, a true test of loyalty.
My brother has one job, to make sure I follow through.
And her… she has her own agenda.
She’s here for a reason and I will find out.
With the looks of an angel and the devil’s soul,
She’s a threat sent here to destroy us all.
In the game of love, deceit, betrayal and blood,
Who will be the one to rise above?
Chapter One
Aleksei
With every step she takes, her hips sway and her tits bounce, threatening to spill out of the top to her low-cut shirt. She’s slim and fit, with curves accentuated by taut muscles.
She doesn’t belong here. A tainted world like the one we live in doesn’t deserve such beauty and grace.
I am one of the most controlled people I know yet here I am about to come in my pants like a fucking schoolboy.
I could kill her. A single shot to the head, a swift slash across her throat, sending her off to a better place.
My cock twitches in my pants.
Fuck. I need to fuck her or kill her, or maybe both.
Arnold, my boss, would be livid. Hell, I’m pissed off at myself right now. I don’t do anything personal—nothing outside of work. My line of work requires that I be well controlled, emotionless, and manipulative. I'm like a chameleon; I adjust well to my surroundings and can disguise myself as whoever I need to be in that given situation.
Instilled in my mind at a young age was one imperative rule: trust no one, not even my own blood. To prove a point, my father had my mother put six feet underground. Granted, she became a liability by saying she wanted to be done and move out of the country. Their relationship was more of a business relationship than anything.
My father is a powerful man, he shaped me into the machine I am today. When Arnold’s family and ours decided to make peace, the Russians became one of his ally’s and my father handed me over to him. Working for Arnold, I’m one of the most valuable men in his operation. Arnold runs the empire, calling the shots and ordering the hits and most of what I do for him involves taking people out. And trust me, I’m not taking them out to dinner.
I lose track of her for a moment but after surveying the bar, I easily spot her. Watching her like a hawk until we make eye contact, I signal for her to come over. She saunters across the room with confidence and a seductive look on her face, as if she intends on seducing the seducer.
Bring it on.
“Is there something else I can get you tonight?” She purrs as she reaches the table.
Slowly stroking my chin, I eye her up and down. “There is something you could do for me, actually.”
Her eyebrows rise in curiosity. “And just what might that be?”
The sound
of her sultry voice and the look in her eyes make my dick jump.
“Tell me about yourself,” I pause, looking at her name tag, “Lyra.”
I’m going into unknown territory right now and completely off script.
A strained smile covers her lips and it throws off her whole demeanor. “I can tell you that I’m just your average girl working to get myself through college.”
“I’m sure you are far from average,” I retort, getting too personal. “Tell me about your real self”
Shifting her feet nervously, she starts fidgeting with her hair as she clears her throat.
“I can, um, assure you there's not much to tell. I hate to rush off, but I really should get back to work. If there is anything else, please let me know.”
“I need to be on my way as well,” I throw some money on the table.
“I haven't even brought you your bill yet,” she grabs the glasses as I stand up. “I will be right back.”
Standing with her back to me, I want nothing more than to bend her over the table and leave my mark on her.
Coming to stand right behind her, I put my mouth beside her ear. “Don’t worry love,” I assure her, “I’ll be back for you and trust me, you want me to come back.”
Chapter Two
Lyra
What the hell just happened?
The mysterious man dressed in black disappears from the bar before I get a second look at him. He sees right through me, that much is obvious and because of that, I definitely don’t want him coming back.
Rushing through the rest of my shift, I leave work as quickly as possible and race home.
Walking through the door, I don’t even bother hanging up my purse or keys. Throwing all my stuff down, I take in my surroundings.
Living with my father, we always had nice things like what I have now. Living with my mother was the complete opposite. Unlike the house I grew up in, everything here was mine—I paid for everything within these walls myself. I refused to accept any help from my father, despite his financial standing with his dirty money which happened to be washed very carefully.
My apartment is my space. I make sure everything is cleaned and basically as sterile as an OR. There is no trash littering the floor, no coffee table covered in money, drugs, or weapons.
Crawling into my plush king-sized bed, I don’t bother to change my clothes. Gross, I know but seeing as the sun is going to be rising soon, I need to sleep.
Sleep never comes. Every time my eyes close, I’m greeted by those crystal-clear blue eyes and that panty dropping smile. That man oozed sex and danger, two things of which my senses were well attuned to. He’s the exact thing I don’t want to get involved with.
Jesus, what am I saying?
This man is nobody to me and here I am thinking about if I were to get involved with him. I’m already casually sleeping with another guy, so I’m just letting the complications pile up right now.
After tossing and turning for what seems like hours, I roll out of bed. It’s six o’clock in the morning. I guess there's no better time than now to have a glass of wine. Shit, I’ll need to drink the whole bottle to relax at this point.
The day comes and goes faster than I expected. I managed to get roughly two hours of sleep between drinking a bottle of wine and watching shitty daytime shows. Before I know it, it’s time to head back to work and pray I get through the night without any sightings of the Russian.
“So, where is that fine ass man tonight?” One of the bartenders, Damian, asks after a few hours pass by without any sign of him.
I shrug. “Probably went back to his throne in Hell. Come on, I’ll admit he was hot, but he's dangerous as fuck.”
“Who knew the Devil wore Armani suits? And who cares if he is the Devil? He looks like someone who can fuck!” Damien winks.
“Oh look, there’s a table! Gotta run!” I start walking away as he laughs. That stupid fuck can read me too well. I flip Damien off as I walk over to the couple that just sat down and he blows me a kiss.
As much as I love the guy, he really needs to learn to shut the fuck up sometimes. I have never been one for relationships. I have attachment issues, which has resulted in a lot of friends with benefits and one-night stands. I never brought them back to my place, though, that way I could sneak out and not have to see them again.
But…
I want the Russian man to sneak in.
I want to see him again.
Chapter Three
Aleksei
I told her I’d be back for her but in reality, I shouldn’t even be here. There’s a hint of darkness hidden behind those hazel eyes mixed with the golden light that still shines from her. The light that shines from her eyes, although it may be subtle, should never be dimmed. My world and my demons are too dark for her.
I take a seat at the hotel bar. I’m hoping she’ll be here tonight. If not, I’ll watch her from afar and make my move when the time is right. Like an animal stalking its prey, I’ll be waiting for the perfect moment to attack. This is a predator and prey situation and she’s most definitely the prey.
I can feel her walk in before I see her. My primal and conditioned instincts collide as she walks into the room. The sound of her heels, the smell of her perfume mixed with her natural scent. My senses come alive; her presence surrounds me.
She walks behind the bar and begins talking to one of the other bartenders. Slowly bringing my glass to my lips, I watch her. I know she saw me and she’s struggling to avoid my gaze. Sizing her up, I study her movements. As she contorts her hands, her weight shifts from one leg to the other. She scratches her forehead as if she really has an itch. Being taught at a young age to know different behaviors, I know she’s nervous. She’s practically squirming under my gaze.
I raise my glass, signaling to the bartender I need another drink. As my attention shifts back to her, she finally meets my gaze. The energy can be felt across the room, almost hearing the air sizzle. There’s no longer any nervousness about her. Instead, she's sizing me up, challenging me. Rather than looking away, she maintains eye contact as she stalks toward me.
“So,” she smiles. “We meet again.”
“So, we do,” I reply as my drink is placed in front of me.
My original bartender seems small standing beside Lyra. “Can I get you anything else?”
“I got it from here Marcy,” she answers for me, neither of us breaking eye contact. “I wasn’t sure you were coming back.”
“I’m a man of my word,” I admit. “I told you I’d be back for you”.
The lust is evident in her eyes as she clenches her thighs together.
“You wanted me to come back,” I bait her. “You’ve been waiting for me.”
Raising an eyebrow, she smirks. “Is that what you think?”
Slowly, I shake my head. “That’s not what I think, it’s what I know. Your body betrays you; it gives me everything I need to know.”
I wait for a response but instead she just stares me down.
“Run while you still can,” I warn, leaning closer to her. “I’m the big bad wolf in this story and if you don’t run now, you’re going to get eaten alive.”
Her cheeks flush as she gasps at my words. I’m much better at this game than she is.
She should run in the opposite direction and I should want her to, yet here I am, coming on to her. The last thing I should be doing is engaging with a woman like this.
“I never was good at running away from danger,” she shrugs.
Marcy, the other bartender appears with a scowl on her face. “Lyra, think you could do your job and help take care of some of these customers?”
“Yes, Lyra,” her name rolls off my tongue, “please don’t let me keep you.”
As she turns to walk away, I lean over and gently grab her elbow.
“Don’t think you’re getting off that easily,” I tell her in a hushed voice. “We’re not done here.”
With that, I release her arm and resume
drinking my vodka, all the while drinking her in. After a moment, she moves on to another customer.
A vibration in my pocket pulls me away from watching her. I pull out my phone and check the screen.
I sigh when I see it's my brother.
The stork has a baby to drop off.
His idiotic way of telling me we need to meet up to talk. We all speak in some sort of code if we’re using text messaging or talking on the phone. You never know who might read or listen in on your conversations.
I go find a table to sit at and wait for Nikolai. With how reckless he drives, I’m sure it won’t be long before he’s here. I take a seat at a table not far from the bar, but slightly hidden in the shadows. Lyra may not see me lurking in the darkness, but she’s in plain sight for me.
“Wake up dickhead,” Nikolai scoffs as he sits down in the seat across from me.
“You’re so classy with the way you speak to people,” I scold him.
“Fuck you man. We have more pressing issues here.”
“I’m listening,” I stare at him, waiting.
“Arnold wants to see us. He has some kind of a mission for us,” Nikolai explains, but I cut him off.
“I will wait until I get a call from him, since he is who I take orders from—not you,” I correct him.
“What the fuck, Aleksei? I don’t fucking work beneath you,” he shakes his head in disgust. “Why don’t you do all of the dirty work for yourself then from now on?
I laugh loudly. “Right, because what you do is the real dirty work.”
“Yeah, it is. What you do is some sick, twisted shit that most of us can’t even stomach half of the time,” Nikolai glares at me.
Forbidden: A Romance Anthology Page 16
