Page 13 of King of Manhattan

He drops to his knees in front of me, his fingers sliding under my black lace thong. He tugs it down, his lips never leaving my skin, kissing and nipping at my thighs as he goes. By the time he pulls it off, I’m trembling, but not from the cold. The anticipation is almost too much, and I can feel myself getting wetter, needier with every second.

When I’m finally bare before him, Vince stands, towering over me. He grabs my wrists, pinning them back against the glass, his body pressing into mine, hard and unyielding. “You belong to me,” he whispers, his voice thick with possessiveness as he claims my mouth again, his kiss demanding, punishing, and I love every second of it.

He releases my wrists, his hands roaming my body with a roughness that sends shockwaves of pleasure through me. He’s in control, and I’m powerless to resist him.

Not that I want to. I want him to take me, to dominate me, to make me his in every way possible.

His mouth moves down my body, sucking, biting, leaving marks that tell the world I’m his. I can feel the wetness pooling between my legs, my body desperate for more of his touch. When he finally reaches the apex of my thighs, he pauses, looking up at me with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“You want this, don’t you, baby?” he murmurs, his breath hot against my most sensitive skin.

“Yes,” I gasp, my voice trembling with need. “Please, Vince…”

“Good,” he says, his voice a growl. “Because I’m going to make you scream my name.”

Then he’s on me, his mouth claiming me in a way that’s almost too much to bear. I cry out, my hands tangling in his hair as he licks and sucks, driving me wild with every stroke of his tongue. He’s relentless, pushing me higher and higher until I’m right on the edge, teetering on the brink of oblivion.

But he doesn’t let me fall. Not yet. He pulls back, leaving me gasping, my body aching with the need for release. “Vince,” I beg, my voice breaking.

He stands, his hands gripping my hips as he lifts me off the ground. I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling the hard length of him pressing against me through his pants. He carries me to the bed, tossing me down with a roughness that makes me gasp. But it’s not fear I feel. It’s excitement, pure and carnal.

Vince strips off his clothes, and I can’t take my eyes off him. He’s all hard lines and muscle, every inch of him screaming power and control. And he wants me.

He climbs onto the bed, covering my body with his own, and the feel of his skin against mine is almost too much. He kisses me again, slower this time, but no less intense. His hand slides between my legs, his fingers finding evidence of my desire.

“You’re so wet for me,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice filled with dark satisfaction. “You think you can handle this?”

“Yes,” I whisper, my body arching into his touch. “Please, Vince… Please.”

He smirks, a possessive gleam in his eyes as he positions himself at my entrance. “This pussy belongs to me, baby. And I’m going to remind you of that every time I’m inside you.”

Then he thrusts into me, hard and deep, and I cry out at the sheer intensity of it. His huge cock stretches my walls, and it hurts so good as he pounds into me. He’s relentless, his pace punishing as he takes me, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me closer, deeper, until there’s nothing left between us.

I can feel the tension coiling inside me, tighter and tighter with every thrust, every rough word whispered in my ear. He’s not just making love to me—he’s claiming me, body and soul, and I can’t get enough. The pleasure is almost too much, almost unbearable, but I don’t want it to stop. I want him to keep going, to keep taking me until there’s nothing left of me but this overwhelming need for him.

And then, just when I think I can’t take any more, he drives into me one last time, his body shuddering as he comes, pulling me over the edge with him. I cry out his name, my entire world shattering as the pleasure consumes me, leaving me trembling and breathless in his arms.

He collapses beside me, pulling me close, and for a long moment, neither of us speaks. The only sound is our ragged breathing, slowly evening out as we come down from the high. His hand traces lazy circles on my back, soothing and tender in the aftermath of his dominance.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, his voice filled with a concern that makes my heart ache.

I smile, nuzzling into his chest, feeling safe and cherished in a way I’ve never felt before. “More than okay,” I murmur, my voice still shaky. “That was… incredible.”

He kisses the top of my head, his arms tightening around me.

I know there are questions that I should be asking, should know by now. But all that matters is that I’m here, in his arms, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Chapter 7

Vince

I wake to the feeling of Emily's soft breath against my neck. For a moment, I allow myself to savor this - her warmth, her scent, the weight of her body against mine. It's a peace I've rarely known in my life. In my world, moments like these are fleeting, dangerous even. They make you vulnerable, give you something to lose.

But as I lie here, listening to Emily's steady breathing, I can't bring myself to care about the risk. For the first time in years, I feel... content. It's a foreign sensation, one that both thrills and terrifies me.

The events of last night replay in my mind: the man at the restaurant, the fear in Emily's eyes, the way she clung to me afterwards. The memory of her terror ignites a familiar rage in my chest. I've spent my entire life building walls, creating a fortress around myself. And in one moment, Emily Bennett managed to slip past all my defenses.

I know I can't keep her in the dark any longer. She deserves to know the truth, even if it means losing her. The thought sends a jolt of panic through me, but I push it down. I've never been one to shy away from difficult conversations.

---