Page 25 of Mob Princess

“I find that fascinating. My brother and I used to try to guess where people were going or what they did for work. The more outlandish the better.”

“How much older is your brother than you?”

“Nearly two years.”

He seems to tuck that away. He rests his hand at the small of my back as he guides me to the door. A man opens it for us, and Sean lets me pass first. I sweep my gaze over our surroundings. I glance up at Sean, and I know he just did the same. Is he checking for viable threats? The way he walks with his shoulder slightly behind mine—so he could step behind me to protect my back or encircle me and cover my whole body—makes me think he’s used to danger. That or he’s paranoid.

“Have you heard of La Petite Fleur?”

I fully look up at him as we reach a black town car. “Only in passing.”

“My brother owns it. It has a fantastic menu, and I can be sure you aren’t late to your next meeting.”

“Thank you.”

I slide into the car, noticing the privacy glass is up, and I’m still not sure what to make of Sean. He seems so much more distant than he did when we met and on the phone yesterday. He shuts the door behind him as I reach for my seatbelt. I get my hand on it, but that’s it when he cups my nape. Once again, I’m looking up at him. His entire expression has morphed into something predatory. He leans forward and presses his mouth to mine. I open without hesitation. I sigh at the feel of his tongue against mine.

Then I’m off my seat and straddling his lap. Fuck. What I wouldn’t give to unbutton his pants and push them down, so I can ride his cock. When he pulls my hips flush to him, I fear leaving a stain. I try to scoot back, but his grip on my hips tightens.

“Sean, I’m too wet.”

His chuckle is pure sin. “Good.”

His hands skim up my calves and over my thighs to dip beneath the hem. He grasps my hips again, his bare skin on my bare skin. He tugs a third time, and I give in. But only for a moment. During that brief flash of time, I revel in the feel of him where I’ve ached since I met him.

“Sean, everyone is going to know you’ve had a woman riding your dick if you don’t let me back up.”

He flips me onto my back and kneels beside the seat on the floor. It must be awkward with how broad he is and how long his legs are, but he’s able to face me and my pussy. He pushes my skirt up, then waits for me to object. I do nothing but watch him.

“Then let me make sure none of the cream spills.”

He lowers his head as he pushes my thong aside. I close my eyes at the first feel of his tongue pressed flat against my cunt. He swirls his tongue before dipping it between my pussy lips. He draws it up and flicks my clit before sucking it.

“Fuck, Sean. Yes.”

I reach for him, but he snags my wrist and pushes it down. My other hand grips the side of the seat. He encircles that one too. He holds my arms in place. I try to lift my hips, but he releases my left arm and presses down on my belly. He sucks again, and I can’t stop my cunt from wanting to get closer. He nips my clit, and I cry out. The spark of pain surprises me, but I’m more aroused than I’ve ever been in my life.

“Give me more, Sean. Now.”

The assertiveness loses something as I moan. It’s more of a plea. He pulls away, and I whimper. His hand comes down, slapping my pussy. I buck.

“You do not command me, cailín. I decide what you get, how you get it, and when you get it. I decided you aren’t coming yet.”

Can I come just from words?

“Yes, Sir.”

His emerald eyes spark as he pinches my clit and presses two fingers into me, using both hands. He already knows I’m soaked, but he also knows two fingers aren’t nearly enough. He’s taunting me, and I can barely stand it.

“If you want to share dessert tonight, little one, I’ll make sure you’re starving for brunch.”

“Yes!” It comes out a choked sob as he thrusts a third finger into me.

I cross my wrists and raise my arms over my head. I grasp the end of the seat, knowing he saw me. He knows I’ve already submitted, but I offer the clear sign this is what I want. He returns his mouth to my pussy, working my clit as he works three wide fingers inside me. He finds my g spot, and I squirm.

“Right there. Please, Sir.”

He presses his free hand down on my belly right where his fingers stroke the inside of my cunt. His tongue and lips keep a steady, torturous rhythm as they lavish attention on my clit, which is growing more and more sensitive.

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