Page 16 of His Retribution

“Tu as toujours ete une bonnie fille,you’ve always been a good girl.”Christian rasps, “I think now I’ll give you what you asked for.”

Christian’s tongue drags flat and thick across me. I fight the urge to sink lower into his mouth, which eagerly awaits my offering. He surprises me, holding me in place even longer, keeping me hovering and needy. “I’m going to savor every minute I spend eating you for breakfast. I’m going to treat that sweet little pussy like the delicacy it is.” his tongue flicks out and across me again. My body quivers and Christian growls, fighting the urge to devour me with an aggressive fervor. I’m not sure which one of us needs it more as we both try to outlast the other. At last he pulls me in, lapping and sucking until I am a melted mess. I rock my hips, driving his tongue all the places I need it to be, while chasing my release. Christian pulls away, leaving me starved. A wicked look in his eye has me entranced as I slide myself down to find him ready and waiting. Taking my time, I edge him in and out of my entrance, circling my hips like the dangerous little queen I am. It has Christian panting as he forces himself not to greedily take me the way he wants to. I can see it in his hooded eyes as he fights an internal battle to draw out the pleasure. He’s barely hanging on as my orgasm crests. His self-control is lost as he thrusts up into me, driving my orgasm deeper until I am shuddering in pure ecstasy around him.

“How was breakfast?” I rasp willing to risk the punishment.

“Nice try mon Reine,my Queen.Breakfast was perfect. How was it for you? Was it too much to handle, mon amour,my love?” He taunts as he thrusts up, sending himself deeper, spearing me until he’s filled my clenching pussy with every last inch.

I take it greedily, allowing him to stretch me out around him, a dripping wet mess just waiting to be filled. His hand shoots up and around my neck with a light warning squeeze. Before I can up the ante, Christian’s fingers drag down my lips. I moan as he thrusts deeper, slowing his pace to torment me. “Don’t make me ruin those pretty little lips so early in the day,” he growls.

My tongue flicks out seductively as I roll my hips rhythmically and slow. It has a mind of its own as it travels across my bottom lip. I bask in my punishment like the switch brat I am. Christian realizes what I’ve done. As he does, the corners of his lips turn up in a dubious smirk. The next thing I know, I’m beneath my future king. I know he’ll do whatever it takes to bring Le Manchot to his grave. He’s worshiping me even though I’ve misbehaved. “What do you say, Christian?” I purr, fisting his hair, bringing his lips closer to my own.

“What do I say?” He asks as he stops thrusting, sinking his thick, throbbing cock as far in as I can take him. His hand slides between my thighs in search of my swollen clit. Christian’s fingers work their magic and soon I’m clenching around him, dangerously close to erupting. “Come for me, Mon ange. Be a good girl and come all over my dick.”

“Yes, your majesty. I want to hear you say it before I come for you.” The words roll off my lips and off to enforce my demands.

“Yes, your majesty,” Christian growls, pounding into me as he strokes me all the way over the edge.

I explode with a moan, then cry out his name as I revel in the ecstasy of my orgasm. He’s pouring into me, filling my pussy the way it begs him to. Moments later, he pulls out, collapsing next to me.

“Pancakes, mon amour?” He asks breathlessly.

“Pancakes,” I agree with a smile just for him, the kind that reaches in and touches your soul.

Chapter 11

My Little Lamb

Christian-

It’sbeenamonthsince Le Manchot escaped my grasp. That fateful night, I was far too busy playing the game of star-crossed lovers with Quinn. I allowed myself to be swept up in the moment when we were reunited, despite destiny’s meager attempts to keep us apart. I hesitated, and I failed because I let my heart get in the way. Now, there is a loose end dropping bodies all over the streets and drawing attention from those who protect the city. It doesn’t matter which side you’re on to them. We all have targets painted on our backs these days. Le Manchot views his men as disposable and I suppose that’s what’s holding me back. I don’t see others’ lives as expendable. Each day that passes brings more worries. I’m left constantly wondering if the Don will step in? I keep contemplating whether I need to play more aggressively or to continue waiting for Le Manchot to fuck up.

Quinn has grown restless, trapped here without the same luxuries of home. I know she understands the reasoning, but I see her sulking. Right now she’s leaning against the wall staring out one of the giant floor to ceiling windows. Night covers the city, but she watches as it slowly wakes up, and fills with the criminals who lurk in the shadows. My men litter the very streets she longs to explore in search of Le Manchot. It pains me to see her this way, caged and broken.

I can’t resist her silhouette, even framed with sadness. She’s so damn irresistible. I find myself behind her. My fingers lightly tugging her hip until she’s pinned between me, and the window. “Mon amour,my love,why do you stand here torturing yourself?“ I whisper in her ear.

Her body responds before she does. Goosebumps erupt across her skin and she shivers into me. “It’s not torture. I’m just plotting.”

“Plotting what, my sweet?”

“Revenge, of course,” she answers, unphased by my shift in posture.

“Mmmmm, don’t tease me, ange,angel.“ My breath falls heavy and hot against her ear as my fingers lightly drag up to wrap around her breast, cupping her in the palm of my hand. “I don’t want you to torture anyone but me,” I growl as every bit of restraint crumbles away.

My lips ache to brush against her soft skin and I allow myself to come unhinged. As they land on her shoulder, I inhale her sweet scent while delivering hungry kisses up her neck. She moans softly, giving me all the permission I need. “Would you like me to fuck you right here against the window with all the city below us?” My hips grind into Quinn, pressing her against the glass. Her body melts into mine in agreement, desperate for my touch.

Quinn reaches back to grip me and I rub my hard length across her hand. Her grip is firm as she touches and teases me. She presses back against my chest, and I allow her the space to turn to face me. Her hands cup my face for a moment before she slides her thumb across my lips and whispers in my ear, “I enjoy torture, and now that I’ve had a taste, I can’t get enough.”

My knees are weak. I nearly fall to them to devour her right now, but I can’t allow this insubordination. My hands snap to work, pinning hers above her head. I hold her wrists with one hand while the other wraps around her neck. “Mon petit agneau,my little lamb,you will torture no one but me. Do we have an understanding?“ I rumble in a husky whisper.

Before she can answer, my lips smother hers. She needs to know how serious I am. I can’t risk losing her again. The time we spent apart was agony. I didn’t know if I would ever see her again. Against me she submits, allowing my tongue to conquer her mouth. She sucks and bites my lower lip, drawing it into her mouth, running her tongue lightly against it before releasing me. I can’t take it anymore. My hands slide around her hips, around her ass, and then I’m lifting her into my arms to ravish her body alone in our bedroom. Alone, where no one and nothing else matters, where we are free to love and worship one another. We may be caged predators within these walls, but in the bedroom we are free.

Le Manchot made it an all out war on the streets, but that doesn’t mean we can’t take the time to enjoy one another. Finding Le Manchot and getting our revenge can wait one more night. It can wait a thousand nights if it means I can spend every last one buried deep inside my queen while she cries out for me to give her more.

Against me, Quinn is quick to send my body over the edge as she whispers sexy demands between her smothering kisses. “Fill me Christian,” she taunts, knowing full well the swelling in my pants is at maximum capacity. “Split me open and stretch me out so I can feel all of you,” she purrs against my lips. My feet can’t carry us fast enough.

“Mon bijou,my jewel,“ I whimper.

“Yes, puddin pop.”

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