Page 31 of Queen
I grab his wrist, meaning to push him away, but his thumb strokes over my ribs and my breath hitches—traitorous, unforgivable.
His mouth finds my ear, his breath hot. “You can lie to yourself all night, Zina. But your body?” His teeth graze my skin. “It knows who you belong to.”
I should shove him. I should walk out. Instead, I’m gripping the back of his neck, dragging his face to mine. The kiss is brutal, like we’re both trying to win something neither of us will admit we want.
He takes control easily—hand in my hair, tilting my head, his tongue sweeping into my mouth in a claiming I feel all the way to my toes. I hate that my knees go weak. I hate the sound I make when he drags his mouth down my throat.
His hand slides lower, over the curve of my hip, fingers pressing into my skin like he’s marking me. “Say it,” he growls against my pulse.
“Never,” I breathe.
He laughs—low, dark, and full of promise. “We’ll see.”
With a swift motion, he lifts the hem of my dress, exposing the lace-clad globes of my ass. The cool air was a brief respite against my heated flesh before his fingers hook into the delicate fabric and pulling my panties down, baring me to his hungry gaze.
"You know the answer, Zina," he murmurs against my skin, his fingers tracing the curve of my cheek, dipping into the wetness that awaited him. "Tell me who you belong to."
I remained silent, my pride a stubborn fortress even as my body begged for surrender.
With a swift movement, he lifts me, positioning me so that I straddle him. The leather of the chair is cool against my thighs, a stark contrast to the heat that emanates from his body. His fingers find my wet folds, parting them with ease, and I can’t help but gasp as he slips two inside me.
The sensation is electric, a jolt runs through my entire being. I grind against his hand, seeking more, needing the friction to quiet the ache that has taken root within me.
"Ride my fingers, Zina," he orders, his voice thick with lust. "Show me how much you want this."
And I do. I move atop him, my hips undulating in a primal rhythm as his fingers work their magic, curling and thrusting in time with my body's demands. My dress bunched around my waist, my breasts heaving with each ragged breath, I am wanton and unashamed, lost in the sensations that threatens to undo me. I gasp, my head falling back as pleasure surges through me. I’m wet, so wet, and the realization only deepens my grinding.
My legs tremble as I settle on his lap, the hardness of his thighs pressing against my core. I can feel his arousal, a solid presence against my pelvis, and my cheeks burn with humiliation. How can my body react like this? How can it want him when my mind screams in protest?
“You already know the answers, Zina,” he whispers, his lips brushing my ear. “You’re just too proud to admit it.”
Without warning, he stands, lifting me with him, his grip unyielding. He presses me against him, his lips crashing into mine. The kiss is fierce, demanding, his tongue invading my mouth, tasting me, claiming me. I try to resist, but my body betrays me again, my lips parting, my tongue tangling with his.
"So beautiful," he murmurs, his thumbs circling my nipples, coaxing them into hard peaks. "So defiant."
He kisses his way down my body, his tongue tracing a path of fire that leads straight to my core. I knew what’s coming, and yet, when his mouth closes over my pussy, the sensation are still enough to make me cry out.
“Spread your legs for me,” he commands, his voice a growl.
I hesitate, my pride warring with my desire, but his grip tightens, his fingers digging into my hips. I obey, spreading my legs, my pussy exposed to his gaze. His tongue flicks out, tracing the seam of my lips, lapping at my sweetness, and I gasp, my head falling back.
His fingers thrust inside me, his touch relentless, as his tongue explores every inch of me. He exposes my clit, his lips closing around it, sucking gently, his tongue flickering over the sensitive bud. My juices flow freely, coating his fingers, his tongue, and I moan, my body arching into his touch.
I grind against him, moving up and down, side to side, my pussy rotating as I surrender to his mouth and tongue. His grip tightens on my hips, his fingers thrusting deeper, his tongue lapping at my clit, and I’m lost. My mind is a blur, my body consumed by pleasure, and I hate that I want it, that I want him.
His lips trail up my body, his teeth grazing my nipples through the sheer lace of my bra, sending jolts of desire through me. I gasp, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more. But he’s not done. He shoves me back downonto the sofa, my ass in the air, my face buried in the pillows. I wiggle, trying to free myself, but his grip tightens, his fingers digging into my hips.
His cock brushes against my ass cheek, hard and demanding, and I shiver with anticipation. “This pussy belongs to me,” he growls, his voice a promise and a threat.
I freeze at his words, my body tense, my mind reeling. I arch my back, my breath coming in short gasps, my body begging for release. He positions himself behind me, his cock pressing against my entrance. I clench my fists, my nails digging into the sofa, as he thrusts inside me, his cock filling me completely.
His thrusts are relentless, hard and deep, his cock reaming my pussy, stretching me, filling me. I meet him with equal desperation, my body moving in rhythm with his, my moans echoing through the room. The friction between our bodies is intense, his cock sliding in and out of my wetness, my juices coating his shaft, making each thrust smoother, more intoxicating.
“Say it,” he demands, his grip tightening on my hips. “Say you’re mine.”
I hesitate, my pride warring with my desire, but his thrusts deepen, his cock pounding into me, and I can’t hold back. “I’m yours,” I gasp, the words torn from my lips.
He growls in response, his thrusts becoming frenzied, his cock reaming my pussy, his balls slapping against my clit. My orgasm builds, a tidal wave of pleasure, and I scream his name, my body trembling, my pussy clenching around his cock.
