Page 136 of LA King

“You don’t get to tell me what to do. You’re not my father!” She pouts now. Yeah, wasted.

“No, I’m not.” I tell her. If I were, I never would have handed her over to a monster like me. I would have protected her at all costs.

I carry her straight to our bedroom and lay her down on the bed. Her dress has ridden up to the middle of her thighs, and when she rolls over, I get a glimpse of her tiny black lace panties. My aching cock weeps pre-cum, and I curse the fact that she’s so drunk.

I want to fuck her more than I’ve ever wanted to fuck anyone in my life. I’ve been abstinent now for nearly six long weeks, and I’m desperate for some relief. But only with her. Only in her. It would be so easy to slide inside her sweet pussy and make us both feel good. Not like this though.

She flops onto her back again and looks up at me through long dark lashes while biting seductively on her bottom lip. My cock might bust through the zipper of my pants if it gets any harder. I should get out of here.

“You’re not going to the hotel tonight, are you?” she asks, tears shining in her deep brown eyes.

I should go deal with the piece of shit who dared to threaten her. That might actually make me feel a little better. “No, of course not,” I tell her.

“For a devil, you really are kind of sweet sometimes,” she says, giggling.

I roll my eyes. “Don’t ever tell anyone I’m sweet.”

She snorts a laugh now. “Don’t tell my father I called you sweet. Not after you blackmailed him so I’d marry you.”

I’ve suspected there was something more to this arrangement since it became obvious that Alana isn’t as motivated by money and lifestyle as Carmichael led me to believe. I work to keep all my anger out of my tone, not wanting her to clam up. “What do you know about me blackmailing your father, Alana?”

She presses her finger to her lips and makes a shushing sound. “I know we’re never supposed to discuss it. Sworn to secrecy.” She crosses her fingers like a child making a wish.

“It’s only you and me here.”

She sighs, her lids fluttering closed and her head sinking into the pillow. “I know all about how you threatened to expose his tax mishaps. How he’d go to prison for the rest of his life if you did. But it was a mistake, you know,” she murmurs. “His accountant messed up his returns, and he … Three years of my life for the rest of his.”

I am stunned into silence. That lying, cheating hijo de puta! So she’s here because her father manipulated her into marrying me, not because she’s a spoiled daddy’s girl who wants my money?

Fuck.

My hands ball into fists, and I mentally calculate how long it will take me to fly to New York and bury that piece of shit.

“I feel sick,” she blurts.

Swallowing my anger, I focus on her and place a hand on her forehead, finding it warm and damp. “It’s just the Scotch. You’ll feel better after some sleep. Now sit up for me.”

Obediently, she does as she’s told, swaying slightly as she lifts her arms in the air. I take her dress off, and now she’s sitting right in front of me in only those tiny little panties. My anger dissipating with every second, I rake my gaze over her. The curve of her hips. Her full breasts and hard brown nipples. It will be torture sleeping next to her like this.

She giggles. “I knew you wanted me.”

I grab a T-shirt from the dresser and tell her to lift her arms.

Again, she complies, and I slip the soft cotton over her tan skin, wishing it was me sliding over her curves like that.

“Thank you, sir,” she says sleepily before leaning back against the pillows and closing her eyes. I watch her while I undress, and she looks like she’s already asleep by the time I slip under the covers. But she rolls to face me, muttering something and nestling herself against my body. My rigid length presses against her, and I bite down on my lip so hard I draw blood. This woman is going to fucking kill me.

“Are you going to fuck me, Alejandro?” she murmurs.

“No. Pero quiero comerte el coño,” I groan.

I assume she doesn’t speak Spanish, and I certainly fucking hope that’s true, because I just told her I want to eat her pussy.

Yawning, she rubs her eyes. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing. Go to sleep.”

She presses her groin to mine, and my dick twitches against her, desperate for the kind of relief only she can bring. “Seems like you want to fuck me.”