Page 71 of Crown of Hate

“Nothing about this is perfect,” I rasp, blindly fumbling with his belt. “But I’m starting to like shit messy.”

“Thatta girl.”

His belt comes undone and I whip it off. He immediately catches it in one hand, his face not leaving my tits as he slaps the leather around the back of my neck like a lasso. At first, the grip is loose, but when he eases back from my chest and gives the leash a tug, I can feel it tighten as I’m pulled towards his face.

“Maybe this will help keep you quiet,” he rumbles in a raspy whisper, tugging a little bit tighter, cutting off a little more air. “If it doesn’t work, then feel free to shout into my mouth.”

His lips take mine, tongue pushing down my tightening throat as he holds me firmly in place.

I try to keep my moans light, but I’m quickly losing control. Not that it matters. Mikhail swallows my whimpers, my wines. He takes everything that comes out of me and gulps it down.

“You are so goddamn delicious,” he sneers, as if it’s almost upsetting to him. “If only you knew how good you tasted to me.”

“Hopefully half as good as you taste to me,” I choke.

“No. You don’t know how I taste. Not yet. But let’s change that.”

With a sinful glint in his eyes, Mikhail takes one last devilish look at my lips. “Pants off. Now.”

“I’m not wearing?—”

“Mine!” he practically roars. It’s like he’s lost all self-control, and it almost makes me feel better for having lost mine a long time ago. At least I’m not alone in this madness.

“Yes, sir.” I gasp for air as he holds my leash tightly, even as I descend to pull off his pants. Another gasp is stolen from me when I see his cock spring out. It’s even more intimidating up close. About as thick as my wrist, swollen with desire, bulging with veins and dripping with pre-cum.

It doesn’t matter that I can hardly breathe already, I open wide—it’s all I need to do. Mikhail uses my leash to lead me the rest of the way.

The second his head slips through my outstretched lips, I gag, but my instinct to pull back is halted by my restraint. Mikhail keep my head still as he continues to fill my mouth. My tongue flattens to fit him. The urge to gag retreats. All that remains is a desperate desire to take him all.

But that quickly proves to be impossible.

“Such a good girl,” he groans as his cock hits the back of my throat. Drool drips down my chin. Tears well up in my eyes. My clit throbs with need.

Fuck my face, I want to scream. But Mikhail has kept his promise. I can’t say a fucking thing.

“Keep that mouth open nice and wide for me,” he says. Then, as if reading my mind, he starts to pump. Gently at first, but soon, his thrusts become more intense.

My voice is no longer a cause for concern, but the sound of me gagging could altern the entire neighborhood, let alone the guards in the front seat, just behind the limousine’s dark divider.

Mikhail doesn’t seem to care.

Hell, neither do I.

I can feel him growing in my mouth. Swelling. I can feel the heat in my face as I’m deprived of oxygen for what I really need.

Him.

22

MIKHAIL

I know I told her to keep quiet, but right now, she’s not the problem. I am.

Every inch of me is ready to burst at the seams, to explode down her tiny throat, to roar as I fill her up to the brim.

But that would be a betrayal. Is she needs to keep quiet, then so do I.

And there’s only one way to muffle the thunder that wants to break through my lips.

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