Page 140 of Claiming Pretty

“Don’t stop now,” the dean said with a husky chuckle. “It’s just getting good.”

My fingers trembled as they curled around the delicatelace of Ava’s panties. The soft fabric felt like sandpaper against my skin, every nerve ending raw and exposed.

I closed my eyes, drawing a deep breath that tasted of damp stone and smoke from the flickering torches.

With agonizing slowness, I began to slide the underwear down Ava’s legs. The lace caught on the curve of her ass, and I had to force myself not to be gentle, not to caress her skin as I normally would.

Instead, I tugged roughly, feeling the fabric give way.

As I pulled the panties past her knees, I risked a glance at Ava’s face.

Her eyes remained closed, her expression peaceful, betraying nothing of the violation happening to her unconscious form. A strand of her dark hair had fallen across her cheek, and it took every ounce of willpower not to brush it away.

Once I tugged them off her toes, I pocketed her panties, because I would fucking die rather than any of these assholes getting their dirty little hands on them.

My stomach churned as I heard a soft intake of breath from one of the guards.

Ava lay completely exposed now, vulnerable and beautiful on the cold stone altar. I pulled her hips to the edge and positioned myself between her legs, shielding as much of her body from view as I could with my own.

It made me sick that I was already hard. Throbbing almost painfully. Leaking against the front of my black pants. I wanted to have to struggle to be aroused by this fucked-up charade.

But my body betrayed me. My cock knew only lust anddesire when it came to Ava. It only saw her naked and laid out for me.

I wet two fingers with my mouth before I reached down between Ava’s legs. I didn’t care if meant arousing the High Lord’s suspicions. I wouldn’t force my way in.

“A gentleman,” the dean snickered from his place on the bench like it was an insult.

“A cunt isn’t worth fucking if it isn’t wet,” I shot back.

But her pussy lips were already slick as I ran my fingers along her folds.

A jolt of surprise shot through me, quickly followed by a small wave of relief. At least there was a part of my dark little rabbit that would enjoy being fucked.

As I readied her with two fingers, stretching her, I silently promised to make it good for her.

Or at least, as easy as possible to bear.

“Well?” the dean’s impatient voice cut through the silence. “We’re waiting, Mr. Donahue.”

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to maintain the facade. “Patience, Dean,” I spat his words back at him, infusing my voice with a bravado I didn’t feel.

My hands shook as I undid my belt, letting my pants fall open, hyper-aware of the eyes boring into my back.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I had to do. With one hand, I guided myself to Ava’s entrance, the head of my cock brushing against her folds. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the reality of our audience, focusing only on the softness of Ava’s skin beneath my fingers.

Slowly, I pushed into her, feeling her body yield to me.

A low groan escaped my lips as I buried myself deepwithin her, the sensation so overwhelming that for a second I forgot about the guns and the video camera and the High Lord’s soft panting.

There, inside of her, was home.

I began to move, establishing a steady rhythm. The sound of skin on skin echoed in the cavernous room, punctuated by my ragged breathing.

I kept my eyes fixed on Ava’s face, searching for any sign of discomfort or awareness, but she remained still and peaceful.

The dean said something, no doubt crude and ugly, but I ignored it, pushing his voice away into the distance.

It was just Ava and me.

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