Page 107 of Ruthless Royalty

“Such a good boy, Giovanni, just like I knew you’d be,” I purr and trace the barrel of the Beretta along his jawline.

I revel in the way he grits his teeth, struggling against the satisfaction the praise brings. It’s as if he’s fighting the urge to both hate and love how it feels to hear those words from me.

Hmm, my babe has a praise kink he didn’t even know about?

I kick my clothes away, raise my leg and place it over his shoulder, watching the way his eyes darken. “Use your mouth on me the only way you know how, Basile. Please your queen.”

GIOVANNI

Itold her to come to me and take what she needs when she feels ready, I just didn’t think this would be how she would take her power back.

I’m kneeling in front of her; the power dynamic between us flipped in a way I never thought I’d allow, and I feel an unfamiliar heat crawling up my neck.

Good boy.

My jaw tightens as I fight the urge to react, to give her any indication that those two little words have any effect on me. But I can feel it—this fucked-up, unwelcome thrill that shoots through me, a need I didn’t know existed.

I don’t kneel to anyone, and I sure as hell don’t get off on being praised like some obedient lapdog.

But as her fingers slide through my hair, her touch light and teasing, I feel this twisted heat coil in my gut. I want to fight it, to shove that feeling down and bury it deep where it can’t touch me.

Yet, there’s something in the way she looks at me—like she’s figured me out, cracked open a part of me I didn’t even knowexisted. It’s fucking infuriating, and it’s thrilling in a way that makes me want to rip my own hair out.

I hate how much I want to hear it again, how much I crave that fucking approval from her. I’ve always been the one in charge, the one who dictates how things go, but now … now I’m on my knees, and she’s the one holding the leash.

“Is that what you think, Chiara?” I murmur, my voice rough, laced with the tension I’m trying to suppress. “You think I’m your good boy?”

The smirk on her lips tells me she knows exactly what’s happening inside my head. She’s exploiting the fuck out of this, pushing me further than anyone ever has.

And the worst part? I’m fucking loving it.

“I know you are, baby. Don’t fight it,” she whispers, caressing my cheek. “You know you like it.”

My chest tightens, my breath coming faster as I try to convince myself she’s wrong, that I don’t like this, that I’m not the kind of man who needs to be told he’s good, who needs to be praised. But then she says it again, her voice low and intoxicating, and I can feel myself unraveling.

“You like this, don’t you?” she says, her voice full of that infuriating confidence. “You like being on your knees for me.”

That sends another jolt through me, but instead of pushing back, I lean into it, letting my hands slide up her legs, watching as her breath hitches just slightly.

“You may have me on my knees,Micetta, but never forget who made you queen.”

She leans down, her fingers brushing through my hair, and I fight the urge to close my eyes, to lean into her touch. This is supposed to feel wrong, degrading even, but all I can think about is how right it feels.

“Oh, I remember well. Now, shut the fuck up and let me usethat tongue as my throne,” she urges, bringing her sweet cunt towards my face. “Be a good boy for me, Giovanni.”

Fuck.

I close my eyes, the sound of her praise echoing in my mind, and I know I’m done for. This woman has me by the throat, and there’s no going back. I’m Giovanni Basile, and for the first time in my life, I’m someone’s good boy. And God help me, I want more.

I grip her hips and flatten my tongue against her pussy, licking a hot strip up her cunt and groaning.

God, she’s wet already; the power has her dripping for me.

She grips my hair, that barrel still pressed against the side of my head. Flicking and swirling my tongue around her clit, I slip two fingers inside her, knowing how much she loves to feel my rings against her pussy. I forgot how sweet she tastes, how eating her cunt used to be my favourite fucking thing.

“Oh, God,” she moans, her hold on my hair tightening. “Just like that … Oh, that feels so, so good…”

I tighten my grip on her hip with one hand while curling my fingers inside of her with the other and branding her pussy with my tongue. She grinds against my face, my cock twitching painfully with the sounds she makes and aching to be inside of her.

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