Cutter reaches into his small black duffle and pulls out an object. I don’t know what it is because I can’t see anything, but that’s always part of Cutter’s game.
The anticipation.
He slides something small, metallic, and slick inside of me. My walls immediately clamp onto it. It’s a small wireless vibrator.
He begins to pepper small kisses alongside of the backs of my thighs and my butt. Tender kisses. Ones that feel like he’s cherishing me. Not torturing me. Not until he pauses for a second and the vibe inside of me starts to come to life.
“You will not come until I say you can come, princess,” he says. His voice thick with as much need as I’m feeling. “Do you understand me?”
“Uh-huh.”
He slaps my ass.
Then turns the vibe up.
I bite the pillow. This is going south really fast. I’m not going to be hold on. Especially because I’ve been thinking about Cutter being inside of me all day.
“Don’t fucking come.”
I groan softly.
I feel him move off the bed, walking around it. Assessing his work. He often does this. Cutter likes to watch.
“Does it feel good, princess?”
I nod into the pillow.
Wherever the control for this thing is, he turns it up a notch.
I shut my eyes tightly.
“You want to combust don’t you?” he taunts. “Well you better fucking not.”
As the orgasm builds inside of me, I can feel my heart trying to burst out of my chest. Then he turns the vibe completely off and I can catch my breath.
He laughs almost sinisterly as he slaps my ass again and pulls the vibrator out. Then he slides face up on the bed underneath me, holds my hips, and begins to eagerly lick in between my legs. It feels so amazing that I start to slowly gyrate my hips against his mouth. He gives my butt a warning slap and tells me to, “Keep still, baby.”
I moan louder.
He grips each of my ass cheeks with his hands, pulling me further down on his mouth, exploring even deeper inside of me with his tongue.
“Cutter,” I howl. “I’m going to come.”
He giggles at the sound of my cries of agony (or ecstasy) and the vibration of his laughter runs straight through my entire core.
And the waves come crashing in.
I explode.
My body shutters in bliss and then relief.
Cutter continues to kiss between my legs. Lapping at my release. Blowing softly at my clit. Biting the insides of my thighs.
“Stay where you are.” He says gruffly. My arms are starting to feel a little weak, but I stay where I am. Hell, I do pilates. I can take it.
He slides from underneath me, stands up, and pulls me further down the length of the bed. My feet are almost dangling off the edge of the bed now, but I’m still on my knees and elbows. Face in the middle bed. I can hear him fumbling around in his bag again. I turn my head to peek. This time he pulls out a long purple satin scarf.
“Place your arms behind your back,” he orders.
He weaves the strip of satin in a figure eight formation around my wrists binding them low behind my back. He checks to make sure his handiwork is not too tight.
“I want you to build a million dollar business if that’s what you want, babe, but not with his money.”
My knees are spread pretty widely apart to help me stay balanced on the bed, but Cutter likes it when they’re close together. It makes the fit even tighter when he enters me from behind.
“Closer,” he says while helping me adjust and move them in closer.
He bends down and nibbles me on my ass. The side of my hip. Then he steps back once again. Taking a look at me.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Sloan. What man wouldn’t want to own this?” He slaps my pussy. “I’m just making sure that I take good care of what’s mine.”
He slides one, then another, finger inside of me.
“You’re soaking wet for me, baby.”
I start pushing my hips back. I want more. I need more.
“Stop playing around, Cutter.”
His laugh is almost sinister behind me.
“You’re the one playing games.”
He lines up the tip of his dick at my entrance but doesn’t enter inside yet. Teasing me. Waiting for me to beg. I’m starting to understand how my man likes to play extremely well.
“Please.” I say through gritted teeth.
“Please what?”
“Please put your damn dick inside of me.”
He bends down, burrows his head between my closed legs, and sucks my clit. I almost fall over from the exquisite pleasure. When he stands back up, I know it’s coming, and it does…hard and fast.
He rams his dick inside of me. Filling me up to the hilt. I can feel all of him in this position. That’s why it’s one of my favorites. He continues to thrust in and out of me. Grunting with his own pleasure. Helping me chase mine.
I am biting down on the pillow under me.
White knuckling the comforter.
There’s been way too much foreplay, if that’s even possible. I’m going to blow any minute, and he knows it.
“Can you feel me inside of you, Sloan?”
“Yes.”
“Does this pussy belong to me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to come all over my dick, Sloan?” he asks while holding onto my wrists and powerfully thrusting in and out of me.
“Yes…please.” I beg.
I can’t stand anymore. I won’t decorate another damn room if he would just give me what I need. Cutter grips my hips and pulls me back towards him as he pounds forward inside of me.
Harder and harder and harder.
The intensity of how much he wants me is being made very clear.
This man wants to own me body and soul.
“Then come, baby,” he says in a rich, deep voice as he reaches for my clit.
Stroking it softly but still pounding me mercilessly.
And then I hear screaming.
Oh wait, that’s me.
My body begins to float in some sort of alternate universe as my orgasm continues to ripple through every part of me. I barely make out Cutter’s nonsensical words as he releases inside of me.
“I love you, Sloan.”
That I heard.
He releases me from the satin tie, and we sprawl out on the bed in a sweaty mess.
“You’re a sex god,” I say still delightfully out of breath.
“I’m your sex god.” He laughs. “Did my magic stick work on you?”
“What?” I giggle.
“Are you still taking that job?”
“You said you’ll pay me twice as much?”
His eyes light up. “Definitely.”
“Eh, I don’t know. If I take the job, you’ll miss me more. I think it’s worth taking it if when I come home we’re going to make angry love like this.”
“I’ll fuck you everyday like this if that’s what you want.”
I get up and go into the bathroom to clean up.
“You’re so crass.”
“But you love me.”
“God help me, but I do.” I mutter to myself.
When I exit the bathroom, Cutter is still in his naked glory, lying on the bed, with his hands clasped behind his head and a wry smile across his face.
“What’s up with–?”
I spot something sparkling. A ring. And it’s sitting on top of his rock hard six pack.
“Say you love me again.” He says to me.
My eyes widen.
“I love you?”
“Is it a question?” he laughs. “Or a fact.”
“I love you.” I say more definitively as I climb back on the bed and pick up the pear shaped diamond ring. I almost scream. It’s so freakin’ gorgeous.
“I was saving this for after dinner. I had a whole plan and then the roof thing threw me off. I was trying to get my head back int
o the game when you came home talking that ridiculous year long job shit.”
“So get back on track,” I say as I climb on top of him, straddling my legs on either side of him.
He holds my breasts in his hands, because he can’t help but grab and hold something dangling in front of him. Especially my tits. Even during a marriage proposal, my caveman is a freak. We kiss each other passionately.
“Then make me the happiest man on earth and marry me, princess. Your majesty demands it.”
Cutter and I may continue to have our differences of opinion. Even our battles. But on this we can agree. I want to spend every waking moment with him that I can. So the answer is a simple one.
“Yes.”
♡♡♡
Broken By A King
Introduction
First he lied to me.
Then he seduced me.
Now he’s broken me.
I knew him as a boy, but now the boy is back—a hardened criminal.
Big as hell. Blindingly beautiful. Sexy as sin.
Dripping with attitude. Covered in ink.
And carrying a colossal chip on his shoulder.
I want to keep my distance.
Needing to protect myself and my virginity.
He’s awakening parts of me that I never knew were dormant.
Ruining me for any other man.
I should have known that nothing this good would be healthy for me.
He’s a liar. A thief. A convict. A deviant.
I need to walk away from this man who’s breaking me piece by piece.
Only my heart is not cooperating.
AUTHOR’S PROMISE: This is a full length, standalone novel, featuring a strong alpha with no cheating (and as always) a happily ever after. Be advised that due to strong language and yummy sex, this book is not intended for the easily offended or readers under 18.
One
STONE
Visiting Room
White Pines Penitentiary
White Pines Village, New York
"I don't usually accept visits from strangers."
I stare menacingly at the vertically challenged man wearing a black cloth patch across a missing eye as he sits down. He looks like a short pirate in a three-piece suit.
"Correction, you don't take visits from anyone."
I narrow my eyes and take a longer look at my visitor. He's been doing his homework on me which means he wants something. Anyone who takes an interest in me wants something.
"How would you know that."
"I know a lot about you, Michael Barringer, and it's time that you know a bit about me too. The name's Silas Buckshot Porter. Most people call me Bucky, and I'm the man you stole seven million dollars' worth of heroin from."
Fuck me.
So, this is him.
I'm serving time in prison, because I was caught in possession of a large quantity of heroin with an intent to distribute. This man's heroin.
I've been watching my back inside of these prison walls for five years. Waiting for some connection he may have inside to make their move on me in retaliation, but no one ever did. I thought maybe I got away with it. That I was all good. But it's in this exact moment that I'm realizing that was a mistake. I let my guard down. Only now am I remembering and understanding what my father always told me.
There's no way to avoid the wrath of the devil, Stone. When he comes, he comes, and you just better be prepared to deal with the motherfucker.
"So, it was your product."
"Not even going to pretend that you didn't take it, huh?"
"Nope. I definitely took that shit and it was real easy."
He grins baring a set of perfect white teeth.
"I like that about you. You've got balls. May I ask what made you target my shipment in particular?"
"No reason."
He smooths the lapels of his jacket.
"I don't think that's true, Mr. Barringer. I think you targeted me specifically, because that seems to be your pattern. You stole from a few other people I know. You have a particular hard-on for heroin dealers."
"You do realize that our conversations are being monitored, right?"
He chuckles.
"If I was worried about that I wouldn't be here. The difference between you and me is that I have connections that you don't. That you'll never have. That's why you're in here and I'm out there. You'd do best to remember that."
"I'm getting tired of this fucking conversation. Say what you came here to say and leave."
"All right–"
He leans in farther toward me.
"You took seven million dollars from me, and I want it back."
"I don't have it."
"You're going to get it."
"I'm not–"
"You know how I got to where I am, Mr. Barringer? I served my country flying supply planes from the states for army rangers."
Alarms go off in my head when he says army rangers. My adoptive father, Jack, was an army ranger, but I'm not going to let this guy know that what he's saying means anything to me.
"And."
"And I knew your foster dad or sorry...adoptive father, Jack."
I don't move a muscle in my face.
"Your father and a man named Nathan Carter and I had a deal back in the old days. We were all partners."
"That's bullshit. My father was a stone mason."
"Come on now, you think you and Jack lived in the ritzy part of Brooklyn off of a mason's income? Hell fucking no. Your father made his money with me back when we were rangers. I moved a lot of heroin in those planes I flew and he helped me. The split was fifty-fifty. I got fifty percent for transporting it and your father, and Nate split their half for helping me get it on the plane."
"Even if I were to believe this tall tale of yours, if you think Jack left me a lot of money when he died, let me assure you that he didn't. Just a small life insurance policy. If he had the type of money you're talking about, I would have known."
"You're one lucky son of a bitch, do you know that? If you were anyone else, you would have been dead the first thirty days of your stay in this steel cage. But seeing that your father saved my ass once or twice when I was young and dumb, I'm going to give you an opportunity to redeem yourself. I know Jack didn't have any money when he died. I knew everything about Jack. He had a gambling problem and a woman problem. He spent way too much money on craps and beer and pussy."
I tighten my fist that's resting on the table between us.
Jack was a good man, and I won't tolerate anyone telling me any different.
"Listen up–"
"No, you listen, Mr. Barringer. Our other partner, Nate, probably still has his money and the sweet thing is, is that I don't owe that son of a bitch shit. You're going to get it from him, or I promise you that you're dead the second you step out of this prison."
I stare at the one-eyed devil in his one good eye and can see that he means exactly what he says. I didn't protect my ass literally and figuratively in this place for five years to die.
"I haven't seen Nate since my father's funeral, but when I did he certainly didn't seem like he was rolling in it."
"What made us good at what we did is that we never brought attention to ourselves. You never even heard of me, right? That's because I keep a low profile. I'm way under the radar. So is Nate. Trust me when I say that he has some money stashed somewhere, and you better hope that it's at least seven million dollars."
"And how do you propose I steal this imaginary money?"
"You're a professional thief, Mr. Barringer. Do what you do best. Lie."
I slam my hands flat on the table in frustration garnering the attention of a couple of guards.
"Keep it down, Barringer," one of them warns me.
"I steal drugs from drug dealers," I say through clenched teeth. "I don't steal money from my father's friends."
"Drugs are money, Mr. Barringer. My money. Listen, I realize that you have some sort of Robin Hood fetish. I
don't know why. Maybe you heard that your biological mama was a heroin addict or maybe a few of those kids in the foster home overdosed on some bad smack? Whatever the reason, that seems to be why you steal from businessmen like myself that only deal in heroin, and then you flush it down the toilet or some ridiculous shit like that. Do you think you're making a difference? Hurting us? Well here's the reality check. You aren't making a dent in my business. You aren't stopping anything. You're just making things difficult for yourself."
"If I wasn't making a difference, you wouldn't be here now would you."
He tightens his tie.
His voice rises an octave.
"You make zero difference. Trust and believe that. But I have a business to run and I can't let a theft like yours go unchecked. It sets a bad example for the other brazen dickheads out in the world like you."
He takes a deep breath like he's attempting to center himself.
"Listen, I don't want to argue. In fact, I'm going to be a nice guy and give you options. You see just like you, Nate took something from me a long time ago, and I never forget a debt. He owes me. So, you can either steal the seven million dollars you owe me from him or you can steal something else even more precious of his."
"What."
"His daughter."
"What?"
"Make her fall in love with you then break her."
This motherfucker is crazy.
"I'm not doing that shit."
"It's either that, my money, or your death, Mr. Barringer. Any one of those will satisfy your debt. The choice is yours."
Two
STONE
FEBRUARY
My name is Michael Blackwood Barringer, but everyone calls me Stone. The story around the origins of my nickname isn't particularly creative or unique. The way I heard it, it was simply because I was a very big kid. Heavy as a rock to carry. Hard as a boulder to move. Therefore, I was given the nickname Stone.
The name stuck with me through my younger years in elementary school and into adulthood, not just because of my size, but because no one could really read my emotions.
The King Brothers Boxed Set Page 41