Page 72 of Crown of Hate

“Up,” I order, pulling at Alya’s makeshift leash.

Like a good girl, she follows easily as I lift her from her knees.

“God, you’ve never looked so beautiful,” I can’t help but utter.

Her face is flushed red, drool washes down her lips like rainfall, tears stream over her cheeks in big globs. She was right. We’re a mess.

And I fucking love it.

Biting back whatever pain she hasn’t already healed, I turn to lie down on the seats. The leather covering squeaks beneath my aching body as I get into position then pull Aly back down to my cock.

The moment her lips return to where they belong, I reach a hand between her legs and flip her on top of me. I can feel the heat of her gasp wrap around my cock, as I’m sure she can feel my moan billows deep into her pussy.

“Fuck!” I finally release into her folds, clenching down on her ass. The scent of her arousal coats my lips. My voice is lost in her. I’m sure she’s the only one who heard me, so I groan again, and again, and again. Letting it all out before I find her clit with my tongue.

She bucks when I start to lick, but I keep my one hand steady on her leash and the other firmly on her ass as we both frantically give each other head.

69. It’s the perfect position for two lovers trying to keep each other quiet. My cock pushes every sound she makes back down her throat. Her pussy eats every word I utter.

It’s fucking magic. It’s fucking perfect. It’s fucking messy.

It’s fucking us.

And now it’s time to show Alya what I really taste like—as if I could hold back, even if I wanted to.

“Taste me, angel. Swallow.”

I don’t know if heard me, but it doesn’t matter. Her throat seems to open as I come to a climax, thrusting my hips up as far as they’ll go. Her nose scrunches against my balls. Somehow, I fit it all inside of her.

She starts to spasm on top of me. I release into her, stream after stream rushing from my tip. It all goes straight down her throat as she swallows my massive load.

I try to lick up every last bit of her as she finishes on my face.

When it’s all said and done, we’re wrapped around each other like sweaty blankets, completely satisfied.

“Good job, malyshka,” I praise, reaching down to stroke her hair as I use the belt to pull her face back.

My softening cock slips out of her lips and a slew of her drool coats it.

I wait until she’s done coughing before I ask, “How did I taste?”

It takes her a second to regain her voice, and I help by sliding the belt off from around her throat, but when she finally speaks, it’s to say the only word I want to hear.

“Delicious.”

My heart nearly hammers out of my chest.

That’s my fucking queen.

Alya is still asleep in bed when I pull myself out and quietly get dressed.

We got home hours ago, but the last thing I wanted to do was leave her side. So, instead of getting straight back to work, I carried her upstairs—both of us covered in nothing more than two bathrobes I ordered down to the limo—and joined her in bed for a quick rest while Semyon and Alexei transported Arsen to the premise.

Well, the bastard’s been downstairs for a while now, and I know that if I leave it off any longer, he might not last to get what he deserves from me.

For what almost happened to Alya.

Fucking bastard.

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