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“It’s okay to admit you were out for blood tonight, Ms. Primrose. I know I was.”
“I’m surprised to see you here though. Without a pair of handcuffs, that is.” “I can assure you my bedroom habits have nothing to do with what parties I attend.”
“How would Daddy feel if he knew where you were right now? If he knew the man who once held his life in the palm of his hand was currently cradling your cheek and fantasizing about just how wet he can get you?”
When I lean down and press my lips to hers, the entire background of the pub seems to melt away. My tongue prods the seam of her mouth, and it opens on the softest sigh, beckoning me to explore. And right then, I know. I’m fucked.
“First thing you should know,” he says, or breathes, rather. Like the kiss we just shared dragged the air from his lungs the same way it did mine. “I don’t share. Ever.”
“The only sharing I’m interested in when it comes to you is ensuring my cock gets as much time with your cunt as my lips. Believe me, love, when I say you won’t require more than that.”
“I won’t be kept from you,” Jonas murmurs, his words hot and damp as they send a flurry of goose bumps across my skin.
Lenny isn’t Shakespearean blank verse; she’s a Greek tragedy wait- ing to happen. She just doesn’t know it yet.
“I reject the notion that I’d notice anyone but you,” he says quietly, piercing my heart with the tenderness of his words.
“You want to come while he’s watching?” Jonas whispers, and I almost spit out my drink. “Show him, love. Prove to him who you belong to.”
“They don’t matter,” he rumbles, his voice dropping so its low vibrations echo in my chest, “because once I’m inside of you, splitting you open and filling your cunt with so much cum you choke, you won’t remember anyone else existed.”
“Do you have any idea how stunning you look on your knees?” Pulling back, I kiss his slit, absorbing the pearly bead leaking from it. “Not as stunning as I’ll look with you down my throat.”
Jonas grunts. “Good girls don’t speak with their mouths full.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” she says. “I want to. Desperately.” Cocking my head to the side, I give it an incredulous shake, because I can’t believe the sentiment, nor that I’m admitting it. “Because you think I’m weird?” “Because I think you’re terrifying
“The next time I find you alone with Preston Covington,” Jonas rumbles, “he’s dead.”
