Page 29 of Defiant Queen (Mount Trilogy 2)
I finally understand the reason it’s called power exchange, but with Mount and me, it’s more accurately termed a power struggle.
He takes. I fight.
He threatens. I rebel.
He taunts. I argue.
It’s a never-ending cycle, and at this point, with his tongue teasing my entrance, I’m not sure I care to continue it today.
Instead, I bury my fingers in his hair and press upward, but one universal truth continues—Mount is stronger than me. He lifts his head, a wicked grin on his face as he plunges two fingers inside me.
“Agreed,” says the Japanese man.
“Agreed.” The Italian concurs.
“Agreed,” Mount says, but I have to wonder if he has any clue what he just committed to. “If that’s all, gentlemen, I’ve got another matter to attend to, and will follow up with any additional thoughts via email.”
Good-byes are exchanged, and Mount finally hangs up. He pulls his fingers from my pussy and sucks them clean.
“Which is it? Ass or mouth?”
I lift my chin, reminding him there’s no way I can reply.
“You can point. If I’m fucking your ass, then there’s no need to remove the gag.” A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
Smug asshole. He gains a ridiculous amount of enjoyment from taunting me. Mount expects me to rebel, even anticipates it. I’m beginning to recognize his tells, so that’s something.
I lift my hand. Using my middle finger, I point to the ball gag lodged in my mouth.
His expression flares with heat. “Fucking finally.”
His phone rings again, and he looks at the receiver.
“And you’re just in time for my next call.” His gaze pins mine. “Get on your knees.”
Again with the power struggle, but this time, I decide to throw him off track, since he thinks he knows exactly what to expect from me.
Not today.
Today, I’m going to show Mount what it’s like to have his iron-clad control over his body stolen from him.
I hope he doesn’t have any plans to pay attention to this next call, because he’s not going to remember a goddamned thing.
Mount
Her red hair doesn’t even begin to do justice to her temper. Keira Kilgore has a fierce fighting spirit, the likes of which I’ve never seen in a woman.
Her little middle-finger salute will earn her a punishment—her least favorite kind, I’m coming to realize. No orgasm. Then she’ll curse me, and I’ll have another reason to bend her over my lap and spank the round ass currently filled with a plug that’s still smaller than my dick, but we’re getting her stretched out.
Soon.
But first, I’m going to get something I’ve been waiting for since that very first night.
I lower myself back into my chair and nod at the floor between my spread legs. The flare of rebellion in her green gaze tells me that she has plans for me.
It’s exactly the test I need to prove to myself that no matter what happens, she doesn’t have the power to distract me from my business.
She is not a weakness, I vow as she hits her knees. I already feel triumph flowing in my veins as I unbuckle the gag from around the back of her head.
