Page 162 of Pretty Little Lies

“We were meant to find each other,” Torin mutters against my swollen lips. “The Princess of South Shore and the Prince of The Landings.”

“I’m not a princess,” I answer back, because I’m just a normal chick with a shitload of problems.

“You’re right…you’re a queen. So…if you want The Landings—” I jerk my head away from him, hurt slicing through my chest at his belief of my still wanting to allegedly take away his stupid town.

“Don’t say?—”

“Maybe you should take it,” Torin replies calmly, and my next breath ceases. “You could rip Emilio out of power. You could help South Shore.”

I study him, searching for a flinch of deceit in his tawny eyes. “Why would you want me to do all that?”

“Because I trust you.”

My face twists, but it’s not because I’m confused. I guess I just never thought I’d hear him say it so sturdily before.

And it literally makes me feel uncomfortable, relieved, and flattered all in one ball of crap I can’t untangle.

“Torin, he might be my dad by blood, but I…you deserve the spot.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You’re a born leader.”

“But at what cost? I despise him, never wanted to fall in line, but I stayed quiet to stay out of his way. Now, I have you.” Hislips curve into an arrogant smile. “I have Cairo and Reeve. I don’t need a seat, baby.”

“And during these weeks, you believe you know me so well.”

Torin’s hand disappears from down my sweatpants, and I inwardly grown in irritation. “Yeah, I think so.” He brings his fingers up to his lips and places the index and middle between his lips, sucking me off, and my legs mindlessly clamp together.

He takes his time, and I’m burning alive with how turned on I am. His eyes never leave mine as he takes every last drop.

Suddenly, he’s on his haunches, taking my pants with him and tugging one leg free before taking it and draping it over his shoulder.

He doesn’t speak another fucking word as his mouth falls right to my core, lapping up my wetness and owning my shit like he was born to worship me.

A prince and the rebel who doesn’t want to bend to authority or rules.

My fingers find his hair as he licks and sucks, not giving me enough, but he doesn’t need to. Just the fact that he’s between my legs, capturing what he’s been proclaiming he wants is going to make me cream all over his pretty face.

I begin to ride it, showing my eagerness for him to hand over my release. I want him inside me somehow, and I don’t care in what way.

Torin’s hand finds my upper thigh, squeezing and massaging it, subtly urging me to keep doing it. To fuck him in another way that we haven’t done.

His tongue licks my clit, swallowing every drop of my arousal for him and him only.

This is what he wanted—us. Just one moment together without anyone else.

“Fuck, Pretty Boy,” I moan, pulling at strands of his hair. “Who knew you could use that mouth for more things.”

I swear I feel him smile underneath me as he continues working me closer and closer to my climax. To the place where I’m going to see stars and need air to pull myself back together when he breaks me apart.

I find a perfect rhythm, extracting the root of my self-control and breaking apart with unease. My knees buckle from the force of my orgasm, the lightheadedness of it clouding my brain as Torin holds me steady and is suddenly in my face when my eyes flutter open.

My shirt is hurled over my head as Torin’s fingers splay over my naked hips and pull me back with him toward my bed.

Spinning me around, he shoves me onto my hands and knees, lusting after his own rapture with me as his vessel. I hear the rip of a wrapper before one of his hands spreads one of my ass cheeks before he begins pushing himself slowly inside me.

A growl fills his chest, only causing my pussy to twist in the aftermath of my climax and how alpha male he just sounded. Like my cunt is the best thing on Earth and he needs it like he needs to breathe.

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