Page 95 of Devious Lies (Cruel Crown)
Would he really slide a cabinet knob up my ass? The prospect drew deep breaths from me until they fogged the glass.
“Are you telling me you don’t want this?” He approached me from behind, tilted my chin until I stared out at the crowd on the beach, and traced the knob’s cold metal down my slit. It slid across my skin easily, so wet and smooth and cold.
Goosebumps peppered my arms. My heavy pants pressed my nipples harder against the glass. I needed to slip my fingers between my legs and relieve the ache, but my bound hands refused to budge.
“This isn’t a boardroom, Emery. You’re in no position to negotiate. You either want me as I am or you don’t. Make your choice, because I won’t offer you a second chance.”
I swayed a little, running my nipples along the glass as I considered this. He stepped closer to me, his breath fanning my neck.
“Now or never, Jailbait.” Nash pressed the pad of his thumb on one of my asscheeks and pushed, inviting air against my hole.
I knew the moment the game ended.
He won.
I lost.
Tale as old as time.
Nash didn’t play fair.
Never had.
Never would.
“Now,” I whispered, but it felt like a death sentence.
My body didn’t get the memo.
I tingled in anticipation, every nerve ending alert. Like most things involving Nash, I expected to hate it as much as I loved it. I expected to toss and turn over it at night. To recall every touch, every moment, every breath.
I expected to obsess.
“Good girl.” He palmed my ass. “Arch your back and give me your ass.”
I pushed it out, pressing my breasts so hard against the glass that my nipples stung. The heat of the sun warmed my skin, yet my nipples formed pebbles against the window. I startled as he trailed the knob up and down my slit again.
Nash bent behind me, not giving me a second to recover before he ran his tongue from one entrance to the other.
“I wonder how all your lies will taste,” he whispered against my slit before burying his tongue inside me.
I fought against the belt and screamed out his name. “Nash!” I was moaning. Shaking. Coming apart for a villain who had buried his soul in my past. “Oh, God. I’m so close.”
We had barely begun, yet I was near completion.
So needy.
So innocent.
So inexperienced.
His jailbait.
Nash tsked. “You don’t get to come on my tongue.”
I almost whimpered when he pulled back, but he replaced his tongue with the knob, using my wetness to coat it before he slid it slowly into my backside. My breath sucked in at the intrusion.
