Page 61 of Crowned

His growl vibrates against my skin. He drops me on the bed, his body covering mine before I can even bounce from the action.

One hand grips my hip, the other slides up, fingers brushing my ribs before palming my breast. I arch into him, desperate for more, my nipples pebbling under his touch. His gaze darkening as he takes me in – flushed, breathless, needy.

“Fucking beautiful,” he mutters before lowering his head, capturing a nipple between his lips. He licks, then bites, making me jolt beneath him. My hands thread through his hair, holding him there as he lavishes attention on me, sucking, teasing, making me squirm.

His mouth moves lower, trailing kisses down my stomach, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my trousers, dragging them down slowly. I lift my hips, helping him strip me bare, and the way he looks at me – like he wants to devour me – sends a fresh wave of heat pooling between my thighs.

Vance spreads my legs, settling between them, his breath hot against my inner thigh. He presses a kiss there, then another, working his way closer. My whole body tenses in anticipation.

“You’re so wet for me,” he murmurs, dragging a finger through my lips, spreading me open.

“Because I want you,” I pant, lifting my hips, chasing his touch.

He hums, satisfied, before dipping his head. The first swipe of his tongue has me crying out, my fingers clenching in the sheets. He takes his time, tasting me, teasing me, his tongue flicking over my clit before pressing in deeper. My thighs tremble as he sucks me into his mouth, pleasure winding tight inside me.

“Vance—” His name is a desperate plea, my hips rolling against his mouth.

His grip tightens on my thighs, pinning me down as he fucks me with his tongue, dragging me higher, closer. Then, just as I’m teetering on the edge, he pulls away.

I whimper, my body aching, throbbing. “Sir, please.”

His grin is wicked as he crawls back up my body, his cock hard and heavy against my stomach. “I want you to come with me inside you.”

I reach between us, wrapping my fingers around him, stroking him slowly, teasing the tip with my thumb. He groans, his head dropping forward, his breath stuttering.

“Fuck, Malia.” His hands grip my hips, his restraint fraying.

“Stop teasing,” I whisper, guiding him to my entrance, my body already desperate to take him.

He thrusts in slowly, stretching me open, filling me inch by inch until he’s buried to the hilt. A choked moan leaves my lips as he stills, letting me adjust, his forehead pressing against mine.

“You feel so fucking good, Miss Van Der Zee,” he rasps, his voice strained.

I shift my hips, a silent plea for more. He pulls back and thrusts in again, harder this time, hitting the perfect spot. Pleasure sparks through me, and I cling to him, urging him on.

He sets a punishing pace, his hips snapping against mine, every thrust deep and precise. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with our ragged breaths, my gasps, his groans. His hand finds my clit, rubbing tight, relentless circles, sending me hurtling toward release.

“Come for me,” he demands, his voice dark, desperate.

I shatter, my orgasm slamming into me, my body clenching tight around him as I cry out. Vance curses, his rhythm faltering as he thrusts deep one last time, spilling inside me with a low, guttural groan.

We collapse together, sweat-slicked and tangled, his weight grounding me as we try to catch our breath. His lips brush against my shoulder, softer now, lingering.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs, voice hoarse but certain.

I press a kiss to his jaw, my pulse still racing. “Always.”

In the quiet aftermath, as the world slowly comes back into focus, all I can do is breathe, my body still trembling from the connection we’ve just shared. As we lay tangled together on the sofa, the fire burning low, I rest my head against Vance’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arms are wrapped around me, holding me close as though he’s afraid to let go.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” he says softly, his fingers trailing idly along my spine.

“Dangerous, how?” I tilt my head up to look at him, the flickering firelight casting shadows over his face.

He smirks, the corner of his lips curling up just slightly, but there’s an edge to his voice that I can’t quite ignore. “You make me feel like I’m walking a tightrope every time you’re near. Like I’m one wrong move away from falling, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to pick myself up if I do.”

I lean into him, feeling the warmth of his body against mine, a stark contrast to the cool air in the room. His words send a shiver through me, but it’s not fear – it’s something else, something that coils in my stomach and makes my pulse quicken.

“You think I’m dangerous?” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. “Or is it just that you don’t trust yourself around me?”

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