King of Sloth (Kings of Sin #4) by Ana Huang

“Please,” Sloane gasped. “I need you inside me. Xavier.” She whimpered again when I finally released her breasts to kiss my way down her stomach to her arousal. She was so damn wet for me that it made my mouth water.

I wanted to touch her, taste her, fill her up. I wanted every single inch of her against every single inch of me, and I couldn’t wait a second more.

I dove in like a man starved, licking over and inside her, tasting her deeply. My fingers worked in tandem with my mouth, and when I ran my tongue over her needy little clit, her moan shot straight to my already aching cock.

I sucked her tender flesh gently into my mouth before I flattened my tongue against her, letting her set the rhythm as her writhing took on a frenzied pace. She ground against my face, her hands tangled tight in my hair, her hips moving faster and faster until—

Sloane let out a cry of protest when I pulled away.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” I grabbed a condom from the top drawer of her nightstand, rolled it onto my cock, and lined the tip up with her entrance. “I want to feel you come around me.”

She narrowed her eyes, her face flushed from exertion and her denied orgasm. “Then fuck me already.”

Laughter rumbled through my chest, but it devolved into a groan when I gripped her hips and finally sank inside her.

Christ. I swore I could feel every millimeter of her cunt as it took me to the hilt, and she was so tight and wet and perfect that I would never believe she wasn’t made for me. Not when being inside her felt like sliding home after years of aimless wandering.

I fucked her with long, slow strokes, giving her time to adjust and myself time to regain control before I picked up the pace. A squeal fell out of her mouth at the first hard thrust, followed by a breathy gasp when I found the exact angle that made her claw at my back with abandon.

Her hips bucked up to match my rhythm, and the headboard slammed against the wall as I fucked us into a mess of sweat and cum. The slap of skin against skin, the sounds of Sloane’s moans, the way her body shook from the force of my pounding…

It was too much.

I bit back another groan. I was about to come, but I’d be damned if I didn’t take her with me.

I kept my pace steady as my fingers found her clit. It was still swollen and sensitive from my earlier attentions, and I’d barely grazed it before her muscles stiffened and her pussy squeezed around me.

Sloane’s nails dug painful grooves in my skin as she came with a loud cry. I felt her contractions in every cell of my body, and it pulled my own climax forth in a powerful burst.

I couldn’t put a name to the sound I made if I tried, but my orgasm was so intense, so all-consuming, that my mind blanked for a full minute before reality slowly returned.

I touched my forehead to hers, my chest heaving, and stayed inside her until every twitch and throb of my cock finally stilled.

It was only with the utmost reluctance that I withdrew and disposed of my condom before I settled beside Sloane again. I curled an arm around her waist and brought her close, taking comfort in the steady rhythm of her breathing.

“My neighbors are going to hate me,” she murmured.

I laughed, pushing her hair back so I could admire every inch of her flushed, content face. “Only because they’re jealous.”

“Even ninety-year-old Irma?” She sounded skeptical. “Especially ninety-year-old Irma.” I paused. “But if you ever want a third…”

“Xavier.” Sloane shoved at my chest, her laugh mingling with mine. “You’re terrible.”

“That’s what you love about me.”

“It is.” She sighed. “I have questionable taste.”

“I would take offense to that if I weren’t so confident in my good looks and dashing personality.” I pressed my lips to hers. “And if I didn’t love you so much.”

Sloane’s face softened.

We sounded like one of those cheesy couples she loved to lambast in movies, but I didn’t care, and judging by the way she pressed closer to me, neither did she.

We didn’t speak again before she drifted off. My eyes were getting heavy too, but I forced myself to stay awake a while later so I could soak in the moment—my arms around Sloane, her head against my shoulder, the rhythm of our breaths rising and falling in unison.

And as my gaze traced the delicate fan of her lashes and the content curve of her lips, there was only one word running through my head.

Mine.





CHAPTER 45





Xavier





Sloane and I spent the rest of the holidays in orgasmic bliss, interrupted only by the occasional food delivery and twenty-three minutes of a so-bad-it-was-almost-good movie involving feuding families, leprechauns, and a one-eyed dog named Tobey. By the twenty-fourth minute, we’d abandoned the movie for more interesting activities.

After the new year though, we hit the ground running. She got caught up in the whirlwind of Ayana’s engagement announcement, and I threw myself into getting the vault repaired as quickly as possible without cutting corners.

My birthday was no longer the end all, be all date, but I would try my damn hardest to open the club by then anyway. It was my challenge to myself.

If I accomplished it, fantastic. If not…well, my father had built his empire from pennies. I could too.

I consulted with half a dozen contractors, and the general consensus was that the damage wasn’t as dire as I’d feared. Sloane had been right—the vault possessed a lot of fire-proof elements, and though it needed major work, the right team for the right price could get the job done in two months.