Page 61 of Baby Duke

"Show us how you love riding a Duke's face, baby girl," he grins, leaning back and making no effort to adjust the tent in his pants.

I smirk right back at him. I did not ask to be in this situation, and hell, if anyone had said voyeurism would become a kink of mine, I would have laughed in their face. But fuck if this doesn't make me feel powerful. A Duke's face between my legs. That's right, Holly, Sherry, and all the other sluts of the school. They may have gotten a Duke's cock and attention, but none of them could claim that a Duke had worshipped their body forherpleasure and not their own.

I lean back onto my elbows and lift a leg, setting my foot on West's shoulder. My skirt starts to slide down but he snatches at the hem and pulls it back up before I can show off too much leg.

"Mmm, fuck yes, Baby Duke, eat that pussy," I groan, raising my voice just enough to make it carry through to the closest tables. I roll my hips, smothering West's face with my juices as he flicks at my sensitive bud.

My head raises of its own accord as West hits just the right spot, my body going rigid. Before I can reach the precipice, he pulls away, placing lazy kisses on my upper thigh.

Refraining from growling at his games, I spy my untouched pizza and grab a slice. West's eyes flick to mine as I take a giant bite. He raises an eyebrow before returning his attention to eating my cunt like a fucking pro.

I sigh, smiling as I take another mouthful of pizza, pleasure racing up my spine rapidly. I am expecting West to edge me again, so I am unprepared when my orgasm slams into me. A high-pitched shriek escapes me as my body trembles before the pizza I have involuntarily swallowed chokes me into a blubbering mess. Vaguely, I am aware of West's tongue lapping up the last of my juicesbefore my undies snap back into place and my skirt is patted down.

I jump when West suddenly shouts, "Who does Roe belong to!?"

A chorus of "you," "the Dukes," and "Western Mazzuchelli's" echoes throughout the room.

I groan as I force myself to sit up, my body begging for sleep after its impromptu pleasure.

My sleepy eyes lower to Wests, where he still sits between my thighs.

"Get off the fucking table," he says.

Because, of course, that is all he can say to me after he blew my fucking world in front of the entire student body.

I huff, pulling my legs together and sliding to the edge of the table.

"At least I've proven a Duke can have manners, if only when he is buried in his Duchesses cunt," I snark, gaining me some muffled laughter.

I fall into the empty seat to West’s right before ignoring him completely and devouring my pizza. When a girl wants to mood eat, she is going to fucking mood eat.

"Well then," East pipes up after a moment of silence. "That was completely unnecessary and entirely awkward."

Law snorts. "Speak for yourself, little sister. That was the singularly most erotic moment of my life. And I wasn't even a part of the action!"

"I didn't know you turned into a poet when you are horny, Lawson," I grin.

"And I didn't know you were such a screamer, baby doll," he drawls. "Does anyone know how to hack into the security cameras? I am saving this one to my favorites."

The insistent buzzing of a phone against the table interrupts our banter. We all turn to see whose phone it is. It’s such a natural instinct for our generation. Hearing a phone ring and instantly stopping what you are doing to respond to it.

It’s Wests, his father's name flashing on the screen. West unceremoniously swipes at the red button. A moment later, it's calling again. I eye him closely as East, Trent, and Fee start conversing amongst themselves. He huffs in annoyance but answers the phone.

The device hasn't even reached his ear before a furious voice screams through the speaker.

"You had better have a fucking great excuse as to why the FUCKSkewls Owtis trying to sue our asses?!"

I shrink into my seat, my lips threatening to tilt into a smirk as West glares at me, phone held away from his ear as his father tunes his ass.

Chapter Twenty

West

Vincent reamed my fucking ass.

"You are a Mazzuchelli, a fucking Duke, for Christ’s sake! We have to keep up with our image or we unravel! We lose what our fathers before us gained. Someone pisses you off? Pay someone else to rearrange their face!"

I snort. Why does that not surprise me one bit? My father, the face of the Dukes. Calm, collected, and sophisticated Vincent Mazzuchelli would never show his emotions in public.Of course,he fucking pays people to do his dirty deeds.

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