The Don's Deadliest Obsession
Chapter 110: You look so hot in this position.
A low sound rumbles in his chest and it vibrates against my lips and sends a shiver straight down my pussy.
He doesn’t rush the kiss. Every movement of his mouth is paced like he’s mapping the exact way I respond.
When I try to deepen the kiss myself, he tightens his grip just enough to keep me where he wants me, forcing me to take the kiss at his pace.
The deliberate restraint only makes it hotter. I can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding himself back even as his tongue fucks slowly into my mouth.
My thighs tighten around him where he stands between them. Heat curlss low in my belly as I make a small, needy sound against his lips and feel his free hand slide from my waist to the outside of my thigh, fingers digging in as he pulls me closer.
His now hard dick presses right against me through our clothes, and the friction draws another soft noise from my throat.
He swallows it with another deep stroke of his tongue.
I cling to him, nails scraping lightly against his chest, kissing him back like I can pull every second of this into my lungs and keep it.
For a moment there is nothing else.....nothing else but the the heat of his mouth, the firm hold in my hair, and the solid weight of his body anchoring me in place.
His lips still brush mine with every uneven breath.
"Fuck," he mutters against my mouth, the word low and rough.
Lysander breaks the kiss, but before I can complain his hands slide under my thighs and he lifts me like I weigh nothing. A startled squeal leaves my throat as my legs instinctively lock around his waist.
And oh my gosh.
Rhe sudden closenwss creates friction as my pussy rubs against the hard ridge of his cock which makes me moan....soft, helpless, and completely involuntary.
I want more. I need more.
I press myself against him, wanting more of the warmth he’s been giving me.
"Impatient little riot," he murmurs against my lips.
"You have no idea."
His mouth curves into that infuriating smirk.
"Believe me, sweetheart. I have several ideas."
Before I can come up with a suitably insulting response, he kisses me again and I forget what I was going to say.
Completely.
He starts walking, carrying me through the house as though I weigh absolutely nothing. My arms stay locked around his neck, my face pressed close to his as he takes the stairs two at a time. The movement keeps rubbing me against him in a slow, maddening rhythm that has heat pooling between my legs with every step.
Then I remember something.
"Wait. Maybe I should shower first....i still have blood on me, and..."
His hand comes down hard on my ass.
The sharp sting making me squeak.
I stare at him in disbelief.
"Did you just spank me?"
He raises an eyebrow.
"Would you like me to answer that, or should we continue upstairs?"
"But...."
Another smack lands on my other cheek.
I clamp my mouth shut.
Right. Message received.
I shut my mouth and bury my face against his neck, cheeks burning.
He carries me the rest of the way in silence, the only sound is our uneven breathing and the occasional soft sounds I can’t quite hold back every time my pussy rubs against his erection.
By the time we reach his bedroom, my thoughts have become a complete mess.
His room looks exactly like him, filled with ddark colors and expensive looking furniture without a single unnecessary decoration. The massive windos overlook the grounds, and the faint scent of his cologne lingers in the air.
Everything looks in arranged and orderly.
Very Lysander.
I barely have time to take it all in before he pulls me away from his body and deposits me on the bed.
I bounce once a startled squeal escaping me, I grabb the sheets to steady myself.
"Warn a girl before you drop her!"
He chuckles darkly.
And I suddenly become very aware of the fact that I’m sitting in the middle of his mattress, wearing a dress, with my hair a mess and my heart beating like I’ve just run up the stairs myself.
He stops in front of me.
"Last chance to change your mind, little riot."
I lift my chin defiantly.
"I want this."
His eyes remain on mine for another moment before he reaches for the buttons of his shirt.
One by one, he undoes them and then he takes the shirt off.
Holy fucking hell.
I forget every language I have ever learned.
Lysander is built like someone sculpted him specifically to ruin women’s lives. Broad shoulders, a hard chest, and a stomach that looks as though every muscle has its ownn personal security detail.
He is ripped. Not just fit.....carved. Hard lines of muscle, an actual eight-pack that flexes as he breathes, broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist. My mouth goes dry as heat floods me all over again, harder than before.
Is that an eight-pack? An actual eight-pack?
I blink.
Then I blink some more.
Good Lord.
His mouth twitches.
"Enjoying the view?"
"No."
The answer comes too quickly which has his smirk widening.
"You’re staring."
"I’m only assessing."
"Assessing what?"
"Your physical condition. You know. For medical purposes."
He laughs under his breath.
"Of course you are."
I want the floor to swallow me whole.
Instead, I cross my arms and glare at him, which would be considerably more effective if I weren’t still staring at his chest.
"Stop being so pleased with yourself."
"Give me a reason."
"Your personality is terrible."
"And yet..."
He lets the words hang between us.
I hate him.
I really, really do.
I saay that now but even I know there’s no heat behind it. I’m just saying it be cause I don’t know what else to say or do.
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