Page 75 of Ruthless King (Mount Trilogy 1)
It was just after Brett and I met and we were still in the sexy, flirtatious phase, which quickly turned into a whirlwind courtship. We got married the next day, in large part because of the events of that night.
How could Mount have these?
A chill snakes down my spine as my memory of that night returns.
* * *
Seven Months Earlier
I couldn’t believe I was doing this, but God, it finally felt good to take control and demand what I wanted. What I needed. This was the test, the true test to find out if Brett could be the man who would give me what I’d been missing my whole life.
I slipped into the dark alcove, away from the dancing, hoping he’d gotten the note. If not, I’d be going home disappointed and sexually frustrated.
Basically, my normal state in life, it seemed, especially lately.
I looked down at the watch I wore, even though it didn’t go with my outfit, because I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss the midnight deadline.
I needed a man who wasn’t afraid to take charge, and I didn’t know how I could be any clearer about what I needed other than to spell it out like I did in my note. This was make or break for Brett and me, as far as I was concerned.
Both hands of my watch landed on the twelve, and I turned toward the wall in the hidden alcove that was known for trysts. Honestly, I was lucky to find it empty. Well, not lucky. As soon as people saw me here for the last half hour, they moved off to find another likely location.
I wanted what they were having.
Why was that so much to ask for?
Heavy footsteps sounded on the marble floor behind me and I stilled, keeping my face toward the wall. My nipples peaked and I clenched my thighs together in anticipation. I was already wet and ready, since I’d been thinking about how incredible this night could be.
A hand closed over my bare shoulder, and when I tried to spin around, his other hand gripped me by the waist, pushing me toward the wall before binding my hands with something soft. Silk?
Thank you, Lord!
He didn’t say anything, and the unique scent of citrus mingled with spice and woodsy notes stole over me, kicking up my desire another notch. The hand on my waist gripped the skirt of my long ball gown and yanked it up until cool air rushed over my thong-clad behind. I wondered if he could see the sparkling crystals winking in the dim light. It was probably dumb to buy special lingerie for this occasion, but I was ever the optimist.
He groaned as he cupped my ass and squeezed hard, no hesitation in his touch. Only the dominance I needed.
Again, I tried to turn my head but he wouldn’t let me, wrapping a hand around my throat and pulling me back against him as his decadent scent washed over me.
The gesture said it all. He was in control and I was at his mercy, which was exactly what I wanted.
Releasing my throat, he wrapped my hair in his hand and forced me to bend forward a few more inches.
One foot nudged mine, and I spread my legs for him willingly.
“Please.” The plea came out as a moan, and he met it with a deep growl.
He released my hair to slide his hand between my legs. My thong was soaked. My desire dripped down my thighs, but I wasn’t ashamed of it. His deep groan told me he thought it was sexy as hell.
He tucked a finger under the back strap of the thong and followed it down to the part that was drenched with my slickness. That’s when he truly turned into the barbarian I’d been hoping he would be.
His grip went to the top band and he shredded the delicate lace, tearing it from my hips. He wasted no time finding my clit and teasing it with slow circles before plunging a thick finger inside me.
“Ahhhh.” When he paused at my breathy moan, I urged him on. “No. Don’t stop. Please. You have to fuck me. I swear I’ll die if I don’t have you inside me right now.”
A growl of satisfaction met my ears and he finger-fucked me, alternating with teasing my clit until my orgasm burst through me. His hand disappeared as pleasure swamped me, but only for a moment. The music from the ball faded away as I focused on the sounds right behind. A zipper. The crinkle of foil as he tore open a condom.
Thank God one of us was thinking, because I’d lost all normal brain function at this point.
With one hand, he pinned the skirt of my dress to my back and guided his cock to my entrance with the other. As soon as he fit it against my slick heat, he plunged forward, burying himself with a single thrust.
