Page 1 of Gilded Fake

prologue

2 YEARS AGO

Colt Darling

I was going to give Lo a taste of her own medicine.

My cock throbbed in my jeans, and I had to fight the urge to just grab her and fuck her senseless, the way she deserved. She wasn’t a virgin anymore. She was indestructible. If she could take the Dolces, she could take a serious pounding. If she could hold her head high after the humiliation of letting them share her with their friends, she could take whatever I dished out.

And I wanted to humiliate her. I wanted to see her a sniveling mess, the way they made my sister. I wanted to see her crawl and beg and cry. I wanted to show her how it felt to be an outcast, to be helpless to stop the train of fate from smashing into you, leaving nothing but a smear of blood on the tracks where your life used to be. I wanted to hurt her, to destroy her. I wanted to do it so well she begged for more, begged like a pathetic dog for me to use and abuse her any way I wanted, just so she didn’t lose me.

But I also didn’t want to waste this. Not for her sake, but for mine. I wanted to forget who she was and savor this moment like I had the first time, this time knowing it might be the last time I fucked a hot stranger. Because we were still strangers, despite having spent a few hours together. I didn’t know anything about her family, her preferences, her past. I didn’t need to know her to fuck her, but I wanted more than a rage fuck as revenge for what she’d participated in. I wanted to pretend she was someone else, to savor this like the last time, to let it be something I could replay in my mind until it faded at the edges like a treasured letter that’s been read a thousand times, soft with wear, every line familiar and beloved.

“Now you,” she said, her bare toes curling on the bamboo hardwood. She was shivering, and her nipples were pinched into tight, pink buds. I could see gooseflesh on her flat stomach, but she didn’t cross her arms to hide herself or try to stay warm.

I smirked at her. “Where are your manners, princess?”

She swallowed. “Please?”

“Atta girl,” I said, peeling off my shirt and tossing it beside the bed.

“Oh,” she said, her eyes rounding. “You have more tattoos.”

I grinned and tensed my pecs for her, running my palm over my inked skin and down my abs. “Those aren’t the only ones.”

Her mouth formed a little “o” as she stared at me, her eyes wide. “You have more under your jeans?”

“You’ll see.”

“Can I?” she asked. “Please?”

I tipped my chin at her. “Get on your knees.”

She hesitated, her jaw clenching, but then she slowly lowered herself to her knees. I was ready to explode just seeing the bitch who ran our school beside the psychotic king, now naked on her knees for me. She tossed her hair back and looked up at me, a defiant spark in her eyes.

“Look at you,” I said, my eyes drinking in her creamy skin, her hard pink nipples. “So pretty on your knees for me, ready to worship me like I’m your king.”

“Now can I see?” she asked.

“Crawl to me,” I ordered.

She glared for a second, her cheeks going pink in the cutest way. I liked her defiance, and I liked knowing she was going to obey despite it. Begrudgingly, she lowered her hands to the floor. Her shoulders rose as she took a breath, and then she began to crawl across the hardwood toward me. My cock strained painfully against my jeans as I watched her fuming all the way to me, her hair hanging down her arms, her bare ass exposed.

“So fucking perfect,” I breathed. “Crawling like a good girl. Come to your king.”

When she reached me, she sat back on her heels and looked up at me. Her face was scarlet now.

“Now can I see?” she asked. “Please?”

I ran my hand over the top of her head. “Good girl. You can look.”

She swallowed and rose onto her knees before undoing my belt. My cock jerked when she brushed it through my jeans, and she bit her lip and slowly undid the button, then lowered my zipper. She slid my jeans down over my hips, then hooked her fingers into the waistband of my boxers. She hesitated and lifted her gaze to mine. “May I?”

“You were a perfect, obedient demon princess,” I told her. “I said you could look.”

She tugged my boxers off my stiff cock and lowered them, a gasp escaping her lips. “You’re pierced,” she said, running her thumb over one of the four silver balls placed around the head of my cock.

“Those are for me,” I said, rubbing my thumb over the pubic piercing. “This is for you.”

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