Ruthless King (Mount Trilogy #1)

I jerk my head back and stare at him like he’s insane. “You have to be joking.”

His eyes narrow, and my comment sounds ludicrous even to me. Mount doesn’t joke.

“Fine.” I attempt to hold tight to my pride, but it’s already unraveling as I bend over his lap like a naughty child who earned a spanking.

His palm brushes the back of my thigh, and I jerk at his touch. It’s only by biting my lip that I stay silent as he pushes the skirt of the dress up and folds it over my back, completely baring my thong-clad ass to him.

I’m expecting him to be cold and callous in this exercise, but nothing could be further from the truth. His fingers trace the faint bruises I saw in the shower, and my skin heats.

“Do they hurt?”

The question catches me off guard. “Like you would really care.”

His palm cups the curve of my ass cheek and squeezes enough to put pressure on the marks. My thighs clamp together involuntarily.

“I want an answer to my question.”

“No, okay? It’s the curse of fair skin. I bruise easily. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s lucky for me that I like seeing my marks on you. It’s good to know it’s so easy and painless to get what I want.”

Before I can come up with a sharp reply, he releases his grip and trails a finger up the back of the thong where it’s tucked between my cheeks, and they clench together.

He lets out a half laugh at the reaction but never stops his lazy exploration, tucking a fingertip under the waistband and sliding it from side to side.

Every movement is deliberate. He’s making me enjoy something I want to hate, and the bulge pressing against my lower belly tells me he’s enjoying it just as much. That shouldn’t turn me on more, but it does.

“This is the position you’ll take when I spank your ass for your constant bad behavior.” The remark is offhand, but makes me tense regardless.

“You wouldn’t—” I start, but he finishes for me.

“Dare?”

A swat lands against the cheek he cupped, just hard enough to sting before it turns into a heated burn.

“You don’t have a f*cking clue what I’d dare when it comes to you.” He hooks a finger into the waistband and drags my thong down my legs, having to tug to release it from between my clasped thighs.

“Are you already wet for me, Keira?” The question is quiet but carries as much power as one of his roared demands.

When I don’t answer right away, he lifts his hips, pressing his hard-on into my belly. There’s no way I can miss the thick length of his cock.

“Because I’m hard for you.”

I suck in a breath, trying to think of anything that will bring me back to center and make me forget how turned on I am right now. The meeting. “I don’t have time for this. We have to hurry.”

His voice is a low growl when he replies. “You’re lucky I want you to make that meeting, or you wouldn’t leave this room today. Torturing you with orgasm denial could easily become a new favorite hobby of mine.”

I keep my lips pressed together this time, assuming that the less I speak, the more quickly we’ll get it over with, even though my body is screaming at me to enjoy every moment.

Two of his fingers slip between my legs, dragging the pads through my soaked slit and brushing over my clit. I squirm in his lap, desperate to either come or for him to let me free, but I know neither is an option.

“You’re so f*cking wet for me.”

I want to bite out that it’s not for him, but again, time . . . and the eternal damnation of my soul for lying.

As his fingers play in my wetness, dipping into my opening and tracing around my clit, he murmurs, “You’re finally being good. So submissive while I play with this sweet, soaked p*ssy.”

I want to argue that I’m anything but submissive, but he flicks my clit and a charge of pleasure shoots through me. That’s when he ups the game, dragging the wetness back toward my ass and lazily dragging a finger around it, coating it with my own slickness. He presses a single finger against the forbidden hole with the lightest pressure, and I tense.

“Relax. I have every intention of making sure you crave this.”

His words carry a promise, and I’m terrified that he’s going to be proven right. He repeats the process with another finger, the lightest pressure, and my hips press harder against his thighs.

“You can pretend you don’t like it, but you love how I play with this tight virgin ass*ole as much as you loved the way I f*cked you on the table last night.”

I can’t deny it. I’ve reached the point where words aren’t an option, and if I open my mouth, the only thing that’s going to come out is a moan. Besides, if he can make it not hurt when he pushes that plug into my ass, I’m not going to argue. I have retained some small sense of self-preservation.

He switches hands, reaching between my legs to press a long, thick finger into my p*ssy, f*cking it in and out until I’m writhing against him.

He tries a second finger, but the tight channel resists before they both slide in. “It’s hard to believe my fat cock fits in this tight little cunt.”

I lose track of time as he lazily finger-f*cks me and teases my clit. I’m a slave to his deep voice telling me all the dirty things he wants to do to me, and the pleasure he delivers as he does it.

“You’re lucky I don’t care that you’re creaming all over my pants. You’re making a mess, Keira.” He lowers his head to speak directly into my ear. “Actually, I f*cking love it.”

I’m beyond the point of shame. I’m as much a willing party to everything that’s happening right now as I have been to anything in my life. I want to come so badly that I’ve lost sight of everything but the goal.

“Please.” It’s a whisper, and at first I don’t realize it’s coming from me.

“That word on your lips.” He presses hard on my clit before pushing two fingers inside me again. “It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard you say. Except maybe the way you moaned as your p*ssy clamped down on my cock as you came last night.”

His hand never leaves my center, teasing my entrance and my clit and pushing inside until I’m ready to beg again—but that’s when something cool drizzles down my crack and I tense.

“Shhh. It’s just lube. I’m going to finger your virgin ass*ole next, and you’re going to love it as much as when I do this.” He presses down on my clit, triggering the orgasm that’s been building inside me since he started this dangerous game.

Waves of ecstasy wash over me as Mount circles my ass*ole, adding more pressure with each motion, but he never stops strumming my clit. My brain is divided, unable to keep up with the pleasure and fear at the same time.

“Let me in, Keira. Give me this ass.”

Another orgasm builds and when I relax, he breaches the tight ring of muscle with his fingertip. It feels massive. Nerve endings that I never knew existed spring to life, and I stiffen again, pushing him out.