Page 35 of Corrupted Heir (Mafia Kings: Corrupted 1)

She let out a quiet gasp and looked up at me with her lips still parted and arousal flashing in her eyes. It took a monumental effort to lead us toward her building’s front door rather than fucking her right there on the hood of my car.

Inside, she led the way up a flight of stairs, and I hung back just enough to take in the view of her slim legs and swaying hips.

At the door, she fumbled with the key in the lock, but eventually managed to get the door open. Inside, she closed the door behind me, locked it, then rechecked the locks.

I almost laughed. Who she had in her apartment with her now was a hell of a lot scarier than anyone that could come through that door. But she didn’t need to know that, not yet. One day soon, she’d have to know. I’d almost forgotten that tonight wasn’t just about getting into Fallon’s incredible body. It was about trying to manipulate her into believing this was more than just sexual attraction.

I followed her across the apartment to the arched doorway that led to her small kitchen, but before she’d stepped into the room, I lunged for her, pressing her body into the doorjamb behind her at the same time I delved for those incredible lips. They were warm and soft and pliant at the moment, just like the woman they belonged to, and I’d never been hungrier for anything more.

“Wine?” I asked against her lips, trying to grasp for something to slow this down.

She nodded, clearly confused. “I have wine, I guess, but you’re not going to like it.” Something shifted in her. Arousal still flared in her eyes, but the set of her shoulders had changed.

“Why wouldn’t I like it?” I asked, leaning back in to kiss a path down her jaw to try to soothe whatever I’d inadvertently set off.

She shrugged even as she tipped her chin up higher to allow me better access. “Because it didn’t cost half my year’s salary,” she said, and though her voice came out a little breathless, there was a scathing undercurrent in her tone.

I paused at the junction of her jaw and her neck. “You think I can’t like something unless it cost a fortune?”

Did she really think of me that way? Sure, I liked the finer things in life, but I wasn’t a fucking snob. I leaned away and looked down at her. I couldn’t help but notice the new light that was flashing in her eyes. Not just arousal, it was something else.

And then it hit me.

She was enjoying it. Some part of her was getting off on all the tension that flew back and forth between us. During our previous two dates, she’d made me angrier than any woman had before. But it had been a fucking game to her?

Maybe it was time to play a game of my own. One that would teach her that if she played with fire, she was going to get burned.

Without warning, I lifted her off the ground and sat her up on the kitchen counter, stepping between her parted thighs until her panty-covered pussy pressed against my abdomen. I could feel the damp heat of her against me, and it made my cock jerk and my mouth water.

“Dominic—” she started, but I swooped in and covered her lips with my own. There would be no more talking, no more opportunities for her to try to goad me into a pointless battle.

I reached for the knot of her dress behind her neck and pulled it loose. The sides of her dress fell forward, revealing black lace that barely concealed her breasts. I could see her dusky pink nipples peeking through the fabric. My length stiffened even more, wanting to break free.

With a flick of my fingers, the clasp of her bra gave way. The moment it fell, I palmed her bare breasts, feeling her supple flesh in my hands.

She gasped against my mouth as my fingers grazed across the tight peaks of her nipples, drawing even tighter, begging to be suckled into my mouth.

I ignored their plea and shoved the hem of her dress up to her waist. More black lace, but as big of a fan as I was, it needed to go. I slipped my thumbs beneath the thin sides of her panties and pulled hard, leaning away to watch as the fabric molded to the contours of her pussy.

She moaned, sending tiny vibrations through my lips, but with one tug, the fabric gave way, and I ripped the tattered lace off her.

I stared down at my prize, the blonde, perfectly trimmed landing strip that led to her engorged clit and her slick, pink folds.

“I want—” she began.

I kissed her again, silencing whatever she’d been about to say no matter how much I yearned to know. What was it she wanted? For me to finger her? Lick her? Fuck her?

I ran a finger along her slit, feeling the way her folds parted for me, urging me on to her wet center. But instead, I moved to her clit, pressing two fingers against her and loving the way she writhed against them, begging me to move, to rub, to do something other than remain there motionless. If I refused to move, would she groan in frustration? Or would she work her body against my fingers, bringing herself to the brink?

I darted my tongue into her mouth, sweeping along her teeth before gliding along her tongue. She writhed against my fingers, not enough to get her where she needed to be, just enough to tease herself, to keep her on a slow climb.

My fingers moved, seemingly of their own volition, rubbing once, twice. Her hips jolted, and she moaned into my mouth, a sound that shot down to the base of my spine and made my cock jerk appreciatively.

I rubbed her again, and then again in slow, languid circles, but the way her body responded was like I’d pressed a vibrator against her clit. Her breathing picked up, and her moans grew louder. Damn, she was loud. Over and over, I circled her clit, feeling her body near the top of her climb in record time.

I was supposed to stop. I was supposed to leave her desperate and pleading and more frustrated than she’d ever been before. But I didn’t want to stop. As her skin flushed and her moans turned to cries, I wanted to see her topple over the edge. I wanted to see her body writhe as her orgasm shot exquisite pleasure through every inch of her body, and then I wanted to bury my cock hilt-deep inside her while her slick walls spasmed with aftershocks.

Fuck games. Fuck fire. I wanted Fallon. Now.

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