Caged Kitten (All the Queen's Men #2) - Rhea Watson Page 0,98

her sarcasm positively dripping—just like her cunt. Taking her firmly by the hips, I spun her around so swiftly, with such ease, that she gasped.

“Tell me to stop, darling,” I urged, planting a hand between her shoulder blades and slowly bending her over, “and I will.”

“Noted,” Katja fired back. She folded at the waist, following my lead, offering herself to me, and braced on her knees. No, no, that wouldn’t do. An idea sparked—somehow, because literally every drop of blood in my body was currently in my cock—and using the grimy wall for support, I lunged and grabbed her arms. Yanked them behind her back. Trapped her wrists in one hand while the other darted around to pluck at her nipples.

“Fintan.”

“You know the words,” I growled, bending her further. She adjusted with a whimper, widening her stance, preparing, arching her lower back so that I had access to everything. The corners of my mouth kicked up. One hole a day, I think. While my thumb brushed her puckered little asshole, a caress that made her stiffen with a sharp breath, I had my sights set elsewhere.

And I claimed my treasure—vehemently. Steering my cock with my free hand, I teased her pussy with a few insufficient pumps, just the silken tip delving in, until she tried to push back with a frustrated whine. I tsked down at her, then gave her ass a pair of light—sharp—love taps.

“Patience is a virtue, Katja.”

“Not in prison, Fintan.”

I snorted. “Trollop.”

“Fuck you—”

I bucked hard, filling her to the hilt and forcing a long, aching moan from her. My eyes all but rolled back in my head as she clamped down around me, sweet relief on the horizon, but then took a deep breath to steady myself—to come back to the moment and remember that this wasn’t about me.

It had always been about me before.

And the change felt oddly powerful.

Threading my fingers into her hair, I wrapped her red mane around my fist and wrenched her head back, absolutely obsessed with every little noise she made. Katja whined, her sex rippling around my cock, and pushed back into my hips the longer I stayed still. In time, darling. Just to be cruel, I waited as long as I could, holding her in place by her wrists and hair, snapshotting her lovely figure bent over and contorted in front of me, utterly at my mercy. She tried to seek her own satisfaction, writhing against me, trying to move, but I kept her still, tormented her a little while longer.

Only when I couldn’t take it anymore, every cell in my body on the verge of imploding, did I move.

Hard.

Fast.

Punishing.

Yet somehow this pace, this pounding into her and watching her jiggle, had the same romantic air to it as our first kiss. Strange. Rough sex had never struck me as romantic before, but somehow, I couldn’t fathom any other way with Katja.

And from the way she squeaked and groaned and whimpered, from the stomping of her little feet and the flailing of her fingers, she loved every damn second of it.

In fact, she spurred me on. For the first time, I let my lover set the pace, call the shots, using the pitch of her cries and the clench of her body to drive me onward. The second I abandoned her hair, her head lolled forward, bobbing with every buck of my hips, cock pistoning in and out of her. As soon as I found her clit, tough as it was to maneuver, she was gone again. She scream-whispered my name, her hands in rigid fists, and I offered no mercy, no quarter, pummeling her through another climax that turned her words to babbling nonsense.

Waiting had never felt so exquisite. If we had the luxury, I would have kept her in this room all fucking day and spent at least a few hours edging her. Katja would hate it, hate me, but it would only make her downfall all the sweeter.

Unfortunately, we had a limit. One hour alone and the guards’ silence—assured in blood, their word unbreakable—for twenty thousand dollars, and the thought of being hauled out of here immediately post-coitus set my teeth on edge. So, I adjusted my angle, grabbed her hair again, and pounded through to my own nirvana. Muscles tensed, pleasure sharpened in my core, igniting, spreading like wildfire until it consumed every part of me. I came with a hiss and a groan, spilling myself inside her as fireworks exploded behind my lids.

Fuck. It was

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