Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I could feel the ache between my legs, feel the tightness that was so deep it was almost painful. My knuckles dug deep into his ass as I guided him inside me, wanting more of him, wanting him harder.
His hand suddenly grabbed me by the throat, and he squeezed slightly. “Tell me.”
All the animosity I felt for this man disappeared in the moment. The heat of passion was too much, burning everything else that didn’t matter. It was just the two of us, man and woman, our bodies so slick together. My eyes locked on his, nails latched deep into his flesh, my body so tight it was going to explode. “Yes…” Once I gave in, my body writhed in pleasure, an explosion between my legs that set off aftershocks everywhere else. My nails dug deep, my hips bucked to meet his thrusts, tears blurred my vision.
His hand remained secured around my throat, his neck and face tinted with more blotches of red. His eyes were victorious and hungry at the same time, and he came with a sexy grunt. Our pleasure was synced for a moment, both of us in the throes of indescribable satisfaction. I could feel his dick harden as he released, feel his essence once it was deep inside me, the weight of an anchor.
We both came to a finish, our sweaty bodies still locked together, breathing hard. My body was folded and opened wide for him, and his eyes still burned into my face. When his dick didn’t soften, I knew the night was far from over.
He started to rock again, his hard eyes possessing me with just his stare. “Let’s see how much come this pussy can take…”
THIRTEEN
CAULDRON
I had breakfast on the terrace, the open newspaper in my hands, a cigar between my lips, booze poured into my black coffee. It was a cloudless morning, the traffic light on the street because the festivities of the day hadn’t quite started.
Pius stepped onto the balcony with an additional plate of breakfast and another mug for coffee. Camille emerged behind him, wearing a lacy black-and-green robe, her feet covered with thick white slippers. Her heavy makeup from the night before had been washed away, leaving behind a face of natural beauty. She looked at me before she took a seat.
I looked at her.
Both of us were thinking the same thing.
She sat down and poured her coffee. She added milk and cream and skipped the scotch. “Those cigars are gonna kill you, you know.” She brought the mug to her lips and took a drink.
I turned my attention back to the paper. “I’m aware.”
“For a man who has everything, you don’t seem to value your life much.”
“I’m just not stupid enough to believe I’m going to live long enough to die from lung cancer.”
“Then what are you going to die from?”
I lifted my gaze from the newspaper, seeing her pour a lake of syrup all over her waffles. “Something more exciting.”
She held my gaze for a moment before she looked down at her food. “Are we returning to Cap-Ferrat?”
“Yes.”
“You’re done using me to model your diamonds?”
The ploy worked so well I would never stop. “No. I’ll be doing it a lot more often.”
“I’m sure you can sell diamonds without me. You were doing it before.”
“You know why men buy diamonds?” I held the cigar between my fingers, my arm on the armrest.
She sipped her coffee.
“To show their status. And when they give them to a beautiful woman they own, that really shows their status.”
“What are you saying? That I’m part of this fantasy?”
“Yes.” This woman really had no idea that men wanted to display diamonds on a woman of her caliber. But she was mine—and I wasn’t going to share.
She ran her fingers through her hair before she grabbed her fork and sliced into her waffles. Diamonds were still in her lobes because she’d forgotten to take them off last night, but they looked like they were made just for her. She seemed to feel my stare because she lifted her eyes once again.
I didn’t pretend I hadn’t been staring. Everything I did was intentional, without shame or embarrassment.
She took a bite of her food, her eyes on me. “Bones told me you were the only person Grave won’t cross. But he wouldn’t tell me why.”
“Because he doesn’t know. Nobody does.”
She held her fork in her hand, but her attention was solely focused on me. “Why?”
“My business is my own.”
“Well, this is my business too—”
“Your business is to fuck me and wear my diamonds. That’s it.”
She stilled at the interruption, her eyes showing their irritation. “Stop being rude.”
“Not rude. Just blunt.”
“Trust me, you’re rude,” she snapped. “Don’t interrupt me—”
“Then don’t interrogate me about shit that’s none of your goddamn business.”
We stared at each other across the table, both of us packed with visible anger. The only time we seemed to be compatible was when we were slick and naked, soiling the sheets with sweat.