Page 45 of Princes of Carnage

It’s a hard pace, deep and intense, and I don’t let up for a second. I watch Quinn’s face as I move, bracing myself above her. It’s so fucking beautiful as different emotions play out across her features. There’s stubbornness there still, like she’s trying to fight this even now, trying not to give in to how good it feels. But then there are flashes of pure pleasure, the little moments when she lets herself go.

Her eyes are clouded and hazy, and her lips part as she sucks in deep breaths.

My hips snap forward again and again, the sound echoing around us, filthy and loud.

“That’s it,” I grunt. “Feel it. Feel how fucking good it is. How well you take me. You know you want to let go for me.”

She shakes her head, but the moan that spills out of her gives it away.

I grind my hips in deeper, working myself into her before pulling back again. I can feel my own pleasure rising, the intensity of it pulling at me, wanting to send me over the edge as well.

“Come on,” I coax her, my words broken up by each thrust. “Give in. Come for me.”

She whines softly, and I know she’s losing the fight. I can see it all over her face and feel it in the way her pussy clenches and spasms around me. She goes impossibly tighter, and I groan at the way that feels.

It’s a struggle to keep pumping into her, but I do it, giving her all of it, giving her everything.

“That’s it,” I growl. “Come for me. Fucking do it, mia cara.”

That seems to be all she needs. She arches as much as she can with her body nearly folded in half, crying out as she shakes and trembles beneath me. Her pussy has my cock in a vise, squeezing like she doesn’t want to let go as her orgasm rocks through her, and that’s enough to send me crashing over the edge as well.

My body jerks as my release tears through me, and I pump my cock deeper into Quinn’s body, finishing deep inside her.

I collapse on top of her for a moment, both of us catching our breaths and coming down from the rush. My cock pulses a few more times inside her, and after a long moment I pull out slowly, smirking when I see the way my cum looks leaking out of her pink pussy.

Quinn follows my gaze, gazing down her body at where the evidence of what we just did is undeniable. Her forehead furrows a bit, a little line appearing between her eyebrows.

“What?” I ask.

She makes a slight face. “Nothing. I’ve just… never had a guy come inside me without a condom before. It’s messy.”

I snort. “Yeah, that’s the point.”

She rolls her eyes, then gives me a pointed look. “Are you going to get a rag so I can clean up the mess?”

“Now why would I do that?” I ask her with a grin. “When you look so damned good dripping my cum?”

I can hear the low, almost possessive sound of my voice when I say it, and maybe she was right earlier about me being an animal. The sight of her looking so deeply claimed stirs something primal in me that burns with approval.

This marriage is a means to an end, nothing more. A way for us to both get what we want, but also for me to protect my people and further my own interests. But at the same time… I can’t deny that being this close to Quinn has an appeal. She’s a spitfire, and Atlas wasn’t wrong about her being vicious. She doesn’t pull her punches, and she doesn’t hold back, which makes it even fucking hotter to have her the way I just did.

My cock stirs a little, but after all of that, there’s no way it’s getting up again so soon.

Quinn shivers in response and starts to shift, like she’s going to move or get up to clean herself up. Before she can, I put a hand on her thigh, clamping down to keep her in place. She goes still, watching me with hooded eyes as I reach down and scoop up the cum that’s spilled out of her before shoving it back into her pussy.

She hisses, clearly oversensitive, and I only tease her a little, pumping my fingers in and out once or twice before letting her go.

I flop down on the bed next to her, worn out and exhausted.

The knife is still sticking up from the bed between us where I impaled it beside her head, and I yank it out and hand it to her, watching her face as I do.

She snorts and takes it, glancing down at the red line that she left when she cut me during our fight. It’s not bleeding anymore, but her eyes narrow as she examines it. For a brief second, I almost think I see concern on her face, like she wants to make sure she didn’t hurt me—but if I did, it’s gone just as quickly.

“All things considered,” I murmur. “Not the worst way I’ve ever woken up.”

Quinn huffs a breath at that, inspecting the blade like she’s expecting it to still be stained with my blood.

Silence stretches between us for a few minutes, and I’m surprised that it’s almost comfortable. It’s probably the longest stretch of time we’ve ever been quiet around each other, usually falling into the familiar pattern of bantering or fighting, trying to get the better of each other.

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