Page 34 of Corrupted Heir (Mafia Kings: Corrupted 1)

“What do you say we call it a tie?” he offered, looking over at my cheeky ball. He had to be wondering just how many more swings it was going to take for me to sink it.

“I swear the ball is cheating,” I said, giving it the stink-eye.

“Then we can’t have that,” he said, taking the club from my hands and dropping it on the ground.

And then there was only hard muscle and smooth planes as he pulled me against him and captured my lips with his own. They were full and firm, and when his tongue pressed against the seam of my lips, demanding entry, I obeyed. I parted for him as his grip on me tightened, molding my curves to his hard frame and making my nipples tighten almost painfully.

His tongue slipped in, and I could taste him. He tasted like coffee with a smooth undercurrent of something sweetly vanilla, like whiskey. My tongue sought his, seeking to take his taste inside me, to feel the buzz of the caffeine and alcohol running through my own veins.

His hand slid down to the small of my back, and when he used it to bring me even closer, the long, thick length of him pressed against my abdomen, and my clit began to throb.

He leaned away, and it was all I could do to keep the quiet whimper from slipping out at the loss.

“I think it’s time to take you home,” he whispered against my lips.

Home? He had to be kidding. I didn’t want to go home. I wanted him here. Now. I didn’t care that we were in the middle of a miniature golf course. We could have been standing in grand central station at rush hour, and it wouldn’t have mattered.

He smiled knowingly as he took a step back and held out his hand. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to slap it away in frustration or grab it and yank him back to me, but I did neither. I slipped my hand into his grasp and let him lead me back toward the parking lot.

Had it just been another sparring match? An opportunity for him to win another round? Maybe it was his way of training me to agree with him. Wouldn’t that just be great?—I’d begun the evening as Fallon Moore and ended it as Pavlov’s dog. And yet, I’d felt the proof of his arousal hard against me. If he was trying to train me, he was salivating over the lesson just as much.

He locked the shack’s door behind us, and I followed him to his car, but as I moved to get in, he grabbed my waist from behind and leaned in close.

“Don’t worry, Fallon. I’m going to fuck you,” he whispered against my ear, sending tiny bolts of electricity throughout my body. “I just thought I’d be gentlemanly enough to get you home first,” he said, then grazed along my earlobe with his teeth.

If I’d felt tiny jolts of electricity before, I’d just been struck by a lightning bolt. Whatever else Dominic might have been—irritating and demanding, to name just a few—he was damn good at whatever game he was playing.

He released me, and I practically fell into the passenger seat.

Conversation eluded me as he got behind the wheel and revved the engine, or maybe I just wanted him badly enough, I wasn’t willing to risk it turning back into a sparring match.Not being led around by your vagina, huh?a voice taunted from the back of my mind. I didn’t like the voice very much. It was even more irritating than the cheeky golf ball.

Chapter Twelve

Dominic

Fallon was silent the entire drive back to her apartment, and after staring at her for the past hour on the miniature golf course—Leo’s idea, of course—I wasn’t about to say a thing to fuck this up. I was already cursing whatever chivalrous bullshit had stopped me from having her right there on the miniature golf green. Every time she’d bent over, the deep V of her dress had fallen away from her breasts, and every time she’d stomped her foot in frustration, they’d jiggled tantalizingly. Fuck, how I wanted them in my hands and in my mouth. I’d even had a thought or two about sliding my cock between the firm, perfectly shaped globes. It wasn’t my fault every part of her just looked so damn fuckable.

I maneuvered the McLaren into an empty parking space in front of her building then pulled the key out of the ignition and reached for the door.

“I haven’t invited you up, you know?” she said with a coy smile as she unfastened her seat belt.

“But you’re going to.” Because every pore of her body was screamingsexjust as loudly as mine.

“Am I?”

I cocked an eyebrow at her and met her heated gaze. “Are you trying to tell me you’re not wet for me right now?”

Her blue eyes darkened, and I didn’t miss the way her thighs clenched together. Instead of answering, she tore her gaze away and moved to open the car door.

I chuckled as I got out and came around to offer a hand. Maybe it looked like a chivalrous move, but really, I just wanted to touch her.

I pulled her up, and then closer, watching her pupils dilate as her lips parted in anticipation. I’d intended to leave her wanting, but the temptation of her glossy red lips was too potent. I touched my lips to hers but made no move to delve deeper. I wanted her to come to me. I wanted her to show me she wanted it just as badly as I did. And she didn’t disappoint.

Her tongue darted out, but instead of demanding entry like I’d done to her earlier, she swept the tip of her tongue across the seam of my lips, beseeching me to open for her. Such a good girl.

But I was done playing around. I wanted Fallon. Now.

Just as she began to lean up on her toes, I pulled back.

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