Empire of Sin (Empire #2) by Rina Kent

“Here’s a tip, I don’t like talkers,” he says casually as he pounds his fingers into me, scissoring and crisscrossing them in rhythm with my shaky inhales and exhales.

“T-too bad; you…g-got one…”

“Looks like I’m not doing it hard enough if you’re still able to speak.” He drives another finger inside and I shriek, the sound piercing the deafening silence of the hotel room.

If I thought I was full before, I’m bursting right now. And that sensation, the thought that he’s so deep inside me that I’m about to explode with him, is enough to make me orgasm.

It’s savage and merciless, just like him, like that expression in his eyes that I can’t look into, because I’m broken and can’t make eye contact.

But I don’t have to look to feel the pleasurable wave, to bask in every second of it, in every minuscule detail and every long, deep thrust of his fingers. They’re still driving into me, elongating the orgasm, making it ten times wilder.

It’s like I’ve never had an orgasm before. As if my body has been preparing for this type of orgasm, one that shatters my paper-like expectations and blows away my fairy tale dreams.

“You’re not talking now, are you, beautiful?” There’s a smirk in his voice and it should piss me off, but I’m too drunk on the pleasure to focus on that.

“I…can…”

“Hmm.” His fingers slip out of me and before I can make any sound, he grips me by the nape and wrenches me from the door. I gasp when he pushes me to my knees in front of him.

I stare at him for a second. It’s only a second, but it’s enough to see the dark lust in his hazel eyes. That’s their color, I now realize. Instead of being green like the mystic forest from my childhood, they’re a mixture of the color of the trees and earth.

I’m distracted from them, though, because he’s unzipping his pants and freeing his cock. That’s where my wild gaze is focused on right now.

His thick, veiny, and very hard cock. It’s so hard that it’s changed color, becoming a shade of purple.

A twinge of apprehension zaps through me at the size. He couldn’t just have a tiny cock, could he?

I was ready for this not to be satisfying. After all, it’s only a mission, and I didn’t let my hopes soar high. But just the sight of his dick is enough to make me tingly again. I just had an orgasm, but my body still demands more of him.

Of that.

“Do you know what will happen now, beautiful?” There’s a tightness in his sharp jaw and his hand flexes around his length as if he’s conjuring some form of patience.

I shake my head, still staring at his massive erection. How could it get this hard?

“You’re going to make that mouth useful and suck my cock.”

My thighs clench together at the image and I lick my lips and then bite my tongue to stop whatever is about to come out.

I’m a good girl and good girls don’t make embarrassing sounds.

Good girls don’t have one-night stands either, but this is an exception. My last indulgence before everything changes.

The British stranger digs his fingers into the back of my hair and directs his dick at my parted lips. “Open.”

Instead of doing as he asks, I wrap my lips around his crown and lick the precum. He groans at that, which means he likes it, so I inch up on my knees and take more of him inside, hollowing my cheeks so I don’t graze him with my teeth.

I’ve never been told how to do this, but I’m good at mixing the little knowledge I’ve gained through watching porn with the heat of the moment. That’s what I do right now, hoping to hell he doesn’t realize that I’m figuring this out as I go.

Using his hold on my hair, he pushes me down on his cock and all my doubts vanish. He’s deep-throating me, I think, and I can’t help my gag reflex when his dick hits the back of my throat.

I splutter, choking on his cock, and even with that, I’m unable to take him all in, unable to fit him into my mouth. I try, though. Instead of letting my gag reflex rule me, I relax my jaw, letting him thrust in a few times before I lick and suck.

Yes, I might not be as experienced as he is, but he’s not the only one who gets to wield power over someone else.

I want that, too.

I want to deepen those grunts of pleasure he releases each time he drives his cock deep in my throat, using my tongue for friction. I want to roughen them and turn him into a mess.

So I act on pure instinct and continue loosening my jaw the farthest possible and make that dreaded eye contact. But now, it’s not only about the meeting of gazes or exchanging vulnerabilities, it’s a challenge.

His lids drop as he slows the rhythm of rocking his hips. “Stop looking at me like that unless you want me to fuck your throat.”

I stop moving my mouth altogether and maintain eye contact.

Do it, I say with my eyes. Fuck my throat.

“Bloody hell. Who knew I would have a wild one on my hands?”

I like that. Being wild.

But I don’t get to think about it further, because now, he’s thrusting in—long, hard, and untamed. And my mouth is there for the taking, for his own pleasure, the same way he used his fingers for mine earlier.

And I let him.

Not only that, but I sink into his dominance, swallowing as much of him as possible despite the drool and the tears stinging my eyes.