King of Diamonds Read Online Renee Rose (Vegas Underground #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
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“Are you hoping for a spanking?”

Her grin grows wider and she arches into me.

I yank down the panties. “You’ll be punished for that, amore.”

She rolls her hips on the bed. I flip her over to her stomach and slap her ass. It’s so spankable, but I’m low on patience tonight. I smack her cheeks a half-dozen times and then knock her legs wide. “Spread ‘em for me, angel. I’m harder than steel for you and I have been all night.” I grab a pillow and shove it under her hips to give me a better angle. “No foreplay for you, naughty girl. You’ll have to take my cock exactly how I want to give it to you.”

She raises her ass. Oh hell, a few slaps won’t kill her. I meant to keep them light, but the second my hand connects with her ass, I want more. I smack her harder, louder. Four more. She moans, wantonly. “I gave you one simple rule. Keep this pussy bare for me.” I push her ass cheeks wide. “Makes me think you wanted my punishment.”

She makes an mmm sound.

I grip her hair and lift her head. “Did you?”

“Yes!” she gasps.

I release her hair and massage her scalp to take away the sting.

“Maybe I should fuck your ass to teach you a lesson.” She goes rigid, which wasn’t what I was going for. Still, I pull her cheeks wide and bump the head of my cock against her anus to make her squeal.

“No, please,” she whimpers.

“Are you going to be a good girl?”

“Yes, sir.”

Oh Madonna. I love it when she calls me sir. I roll on a condom and push into her without preamble. She’s already slick with her own juices, but she cries out. I stop at the hilt and bite her neck. “Okay, baby?”

“Yes. Yes, Nico.”

Damn. I’m one stroke in and already need to come, just because she said my name. “That’s right, baby. Say my name. Whose cock are you going to take?”

She moans and even through the condom I can tell her pussy got wetter. “Yours. God, yes.”

I mutter several curses in Italian as I continue to plow into her. She’s so soft, so willing. So fucking responsive. It’s like our bodies were made for each other’s. I need her with an intensity that humbles me.

This is what drives me to act like a possessive asshole. To want to own her, control her. I know it’s not right, but I can’t stop myself. And while it turns her on, I also know it scares her. Which also turns her on. I’m learning everything that makes my little art historian tick.

I push her ass cheeks apart to give her the sensation of my loins against her asshole and she cries out, excitement wavering in her voice.

“This ass belongs to me, doesn’t it, bella?”

She moans with each quick pant, a tapestry of sound to accompany the slap of flesh against flesh.

“Say you need this cock, baby. Say you need it as much as I need your tight little pussy.”

“I need it,” she pants. “I need it so badly.”

It’s all over for me. My eyes roll back in my head. I ride her like my life depends on it, like if I don’t fuck her hard enough, neither one of us will survive. She fists the bed sheets, screaming with each thrust.

My balls draw up painfully tight, thrusts become erratic. “Come for me, angel. Come as fucking hard as I’m going to.”

I release, burying myself deep inside her and climaxing so forcefully I nearly black out. I’m gone for a few moments, and then I realize my weight is on her and I roll off, pulling her to spoon against my front, our bodies still connected.

I finger one nipple, gently squeezing and tugging. “Baby, you have no idea what you do to me.” The orgasm has me grateful. I want to offer her money, gifts, anything she’ll take. But I don’t want her to feel cheap, either. I know it’s a sensitive point for her. Every day I thank the stars I figured out a position she loves that I can pay her to do. “What can I do for you? Tell me what you need.”

She goes quiet for too long, which makes me itchy. Something’s on her mind. Something she’s not sure how to say.

I pull out of her and throw the condom in the wastebasket beside the bed. She half-rolled to her back, but her head’s still turned away from me. I roll her to face me. “Tell me, baby. I’m not making you happy. What is it?”

She blinks for a moment, then draws a breath. “Am I your girlfriend, Nico? Your booty call? What am I to you?”

I lean up on one elbow, trying not to show my alarm. This is the conversation I’ve dreaded. Can Nico Tacone have a girlfriend?


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