Page 120 of Broken Crown

He thrust his fingers several times as he teased my clit. His mouth skimmed the sensitive skin below my ear before he sucked the lobe between his lips.

He then pinched my earlobe with his teeth. "That is where you're wrong,” he rasped. “There is only you and me. Nothing else in this world matters to me more than keeping you at my side. Do you understand me?"

My head rolled against the mirror in my futile attempt to fight the heady combination of his mouth and fingers. "You're lying."

He pushed his fingers in harder…deeper.

I struggled to get enough oxygen into my lungs. The corset bodice of the dress restricted my ribs, making it difficult to breathe.

With a curse, he spun me around.

The cold mirror shocked my heated skin as my palms flattened against its surface, condensation forming beneath my touch.

My reflection stared back at me—eyes wild and glazed, lips swollen and bitten red, cheeks flushed with unwanted desire—as he ripped the zipper down, the sound of teeth separating slicing through the charged air.

He placed his hands on my hips, his fingers digging into the flesh with bruising force, leaving marks I knew would bloom purple by morning, each fingertip a brand on my skin.

He flipped me back to face him and gripped the bodice of the gown, yanking downward, the expensive fabric surrendering with a rip that echoed my own surrender.

The dress fell to my feet in a billowing whisper of fabric, leaving me wearing only a white lace strapless bra and panties, my nipples visibly hard beneath the delicate material, my chest heaving.

He swept his hands over my bare hips to cup the backs of my knees. Lifting me out of the mound of ivory silk, he slid me higher up against the mirror, spreading my thighs as he stepped between them.

I had no choice but to wrap my legs around his hips.

He pressed an open-mouthed kiss on the upper curve of my breast as he rubbed his cock against me. "This is no lie, babygirl."

Before I could object, he twisted our bodies away from the mirror. Lowering to his knees, he placed me on the soft folds of my crumpled gown.

With his forearm by my head, he palmed my pussy through my panties. "This wet cunt doesn't feel like hate to me."

He grabbed my jaw, pressing his fingers into my cheeks to prevent me from biting him again, then claimed my mouth, sweeping his tongue inside.

Releasing my jaw, he ran his mouth down my throat, pushing the diamond necklace aside with his tongue to lick at the cleft between my breasts. He continued down my body, moving his mouth over my stomach. His warm breath teased my pussy as he skimmed his mouth over the silk of my panties.

Then he pressed his tongue to the seam through the silk.

So tantalizingly close but not close enough.

It was torture.

I opened my thighs wider and twisted my fingers in his hair. "Fuck, Sebastian."

He tore my panties off me.

I moaned as he spread my pussy lips open and swept upward with his tongue before circling my clit. My hips arched, pressing my body against his mouth.

His lips moved against my sensitive flesh. "That's it, baby. Growl my name."

He flicked his tongue faster, sending me over the edge.

I stared in wonder at the chandelier looming above me, a constellation of crystals and light, as my body hummed with forced pleasure.

Sebastian rose onto his knees.

He stared down at me, never breaking eye contact as he shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket. Then he tore at the buttons of his shirt and ripped it off.

Still breathing heavily from my orgasm, I watched his strong hands move to the button of his trousers, in terrified fascination.