Page 112 of Devious Kingpin
“Dante,” I whimpered, arching against him.
“Do you want my cock?”
“Yes, yes,” I moaned. “Please, Dante. Fuck me. Fuck, I need you so much.”
He pushed the tip of his cock, dripping with precum, into my pussy. “Please.Please.”
He slammed all the way into me, and we both moaned. My head fell back and my eyes rolled back in my head, my spine arching off the bed.
His hands grabbed my hips as he pulled out, only to slam back in again.
“Are you mine?” He thrust into me again.Hard. “Who does this pussy belong to?”
“Yours,” I moaned. “I’m all yours.”
He pulled almost all the way out, only to thrust back into me deeply. Roughly. Then he increased his pace and intensity, taking me fast and hard.
He was right. I screamed his name that night.
* * *
I woke up the next morning later than usual.
To an empty bed and not a husband in sight. Glancing at the clock, nine a.m. stared back at me in glowing green. It was later than usual. Dante kept me up until five a.m., running his hands and mouth all over my body. He drew so many orgasms out of me that I had to beg him for a reprieve or risk passing out.
My lips curved into a smile as I thought of all the ways he’d made me come. This thing with him was raw and so intense and I feared it’d burn out.
I shook my head, chasing the thoughts away. I slid out of bed, my muscles achy.
“A shower will help,” I murmured to myself.
It helped. Ten minutes later, I was dressed in black leggings and a three-quarter-sleeved off-the-shoulder shirt, the color of the bluest skies. Not bothering with shoes or socks, I padded through the house in search of my husband.
I knew he wouldn’t have left the house without us having breakfast first. He insisted it would be our tradition. To have breakfast together every morning and dinner together every night. Unless he was traveling.
As I reached the bottom step of the ground floor, I heard his voice coming from the office. My feet were soundless against the white marble as I made my way through the foyer to the opposite side of the house.
Slick furniture and expensive framed paintings greeted me. That was one thing nobody could take away from this house—it was decorated to the nines with slick modern furniture mixed with a certain old elegance.
I was almost by Dante’s office when I heard multiple voices and my steps faltered. The tense words exchanged inside the office had my stomach twisting in knots.
“She’ll have your balls when she finds out,” Basilio stated, his voice coming through a speaker.
“We should tell Juliette,” Emory chimed in.
My heart picked up pace, each beat like a whip against my ribs. Something about her tone sent dread through me.
“No.” Dante’s voice was low. Dark. Deadly. “And none of you will ever mention it again.”
My brows furrowed, wondering what it was that Emory wanted to tell me. Maybe something happened? Worry shot through me and my hand reached for the door handle, pausing in midair when Priest’s words came through.
“If anyone finds out we drugged Juliette to marry you, there’ll be hell to pay. And war to wage. And we can’t afford it right now. Not with Sofia Volkov attacking us.”
“She’s bound to find out you slipped the drug into her drink,” Emory tried again.
I froze at hearing the words. Did he just say that Dante slipped a drug into my drink?
Drugged me? Dante drugged me. Oh my God, Dante drugged me.
