Page 24 of Crown of Hate

And fuck, I’m desperate for him too.

“This is no way to treat a queen,” I mumble, neck craning, some part of me still trying to fight back.

“It’s exactly how I treatmyqueen,” he responds. “With fucking worship.”

He pushes the strap of my lingerie aside, exposing my tits to his hungry gaze.

My nipples harden at the sudden exposure, and goosebumps erupt over my skin. My cheeks burn as I’m suddenly too aware of my half-naked state.

He still doesn’t know I’m a virgin. Before this, the most I’d ever done with a man was an innocent kiss on the lips.

What will he think when he realizes he’s about to take my innocence? Will he be gentle? Sophia said it’s painful at first, but then it gets better until all you feel is pleasure.

But right now, all I can focus on is the sensation of his giant hands cupping my breasts, his thumbs teasing my hardened nipples, and the ache between my legs. I want to feel the pleasure of him fucking me senseless.

The crudeness of the thought should shock me, but it only intensifies my desperation. I can take pain. But can I take the pleasure?

“Your tits are so fucking perfect,” Mikhail groans, lowering his head to take one taut peak into his mouth. “To think, they belong to me now.”

I don’t belong to you. It’s what I want to scream in his stupid, gorgeous face. But I know it’s not true. Not right now. In this moment, I’m utterly and completely his.

So, instead, a soft moan escapes my swollen lips. I arch into his touch, begging for more. The feeling of his warm, wet tongue flicking and sucking sends a scorching shockwave through me.

I cry out, writhing to free my hands and grip something—anything. I’m panting, rasping, and gasping for breath. The pleasure that cocoons me is too much to handle. I’m on fire, burning with each flick of his tongue and stroke of his fingers.

But Mikhail doesn’t stop tormenting me with his tongue, even as he frees my hands and lifts me off the ground.

I instinctually snake my legs around his muscular waist as he carries me to the bed, his strong arms wrapping around me like a cage. But it’s a cage I never want to leave. My heart beats wildly against his chest, my breath catching in my throat as he finally brings his lips back up to mine.

Lowering me onto the mattress, he crawls over my body, his weight a delicious pressure.

“Are you ready for me, Alya?” he asks, his voice deep and rumbling. A shiver runs down my spine as he speaks. I hesitate to respond. “You have no idea how much I've wanted this,” he continues over my silence. “It's all I've fucking thought about since the day I met you.” A sinful smirk fills his blood-red lips. “Since the day you proposed to me.”

“I didn’t…”

“Hush,” he whispers, placing a finger over my mouth. “It doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters is this simple question: do you want me as much as I want you?”

My heart hammers against the inside of my chest. My breath comes out in long, raspy stutters.

“I… I don’t know…” I manage to spit out. “How much do you want me?”

His sinful smile grows into something so wild I can barely see the gorgeous man behind it anymore. Only a primal beast.

“Let me show you.”

His intense gaze holding mine captive, he slowly unhooks the rest of my lingerie, peeling it away until I’m fully exposed.My body trembles under his smoldering stare, every sensation heightened.

I look up at him, my body now completely surrendered to him. We’re both drowning in the sheer intensity of the moment, the ravenous hunger for each other so powerful I can hardly breathe.

But there’s something else, something I can’t quite describe. It crosses through us like a warm mist as he traces a finger lightly down my abdomen to the apex of my thighs. I hold my breath, anticipation coiling tight in my core.

With a growl, he lowers his head and inhales deeply. “What a fucking delicacy you are.”

In one swift, fluid motion, he lifts my legs and buries his head between them.

I feel the heat of his breath against my folds, then the firm press of his wicked tongue on my clit.

My body jerks at the sensation, my hand instinctively reaching out to grip his hair. “Mikhail!” I cry. “W-what are you doing?”

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