Six years earlier…
The dark room we’re fucking in amplifies the scent of her musky perfume. While flaring my nostrils to suck in the addictive smell of her heated skin against mine, I grip her ass firmer, increasing her moans from breathless whimpers to ear-piercing screams. I pump in and out of her on repeat acting as if my desire to claim her won’t start another war.
For years, the Dvořáks have had footholds in this half of Europe. My father’s sanction in the United Kingdom is strong, but he doesn’t just want to rule his side of the pond. He wants to govern the entire world. After the Berlin and Paris chapters crumbled with death tolls almost as high as ones recorded during the Cold War, Prague was the next natural choice.
I’m here to infiltrate their camp, seek out their weaknesses, then helm the raid that will see the streets of Mikulov littered with the bodies of Sahib Dvořák’s men.
Instead, I’m fucking Sahib’s daughter in the butler’s pantry like she’s one of the many whores he’s offered me the past three months.
I was born evil. Hate is buried deep inside me, but the temptation to make India mine was too strong to consider the carry-on effect our fuck will cause my birthright. Her oceanic eyes and untouched skin deserved further exploration. Her response to my gall tonight brought brightness into my bleak and miserable existence and has me wondering if there’s more to life than victory, murder, and mayhem.
I can kill a man without blinking, feel his pulse fade to nothing without an ounce of remorse, but right now, all I’m hearing is my heart in my ears. It’s thudding nonstop, drowning out everything and everyone, including the warnings about how disastrously my campaign will end.
India doesn’t know I’m here to take down her father. She has no clue about the number of men I’ve killed and how many widows I’ve made.
She also isn’t mine.
She was betrothed to a man three months before I arrived on the scene. They’re set to wed next week. That’s why I moved as quickly as I have. I only caught the back end of her as she entered the industrial-size kitchen in the underbelly of her family’s compound.
Although a dingy, dark room isn’t an ideal location to authenticate the hidden glances, whispered words, and slight touches India has bombarded me with the past three months, it’s rare for her to be alone, so I took advantage of the situation.
Her nails clawed at me when I pinned her against the first solid surface I could find before I sealed my mouth over hers. It wasn’t solely in fear, though. She was also turned on, incapable of denying the sexual chemistry teaming between us.
I’ve fucked many women in my almost twenty-two years. My crew’s victories are regularly celebrated with gallons of whiskey and an endless number of whores. However, not even someone as perverted as me anticipated for my kiss to turn into a lust-filled fuck against shelves of food brought in specially for India’s wedding to Achim Novak, son of a prominent European aristocratic family.
Their nuptials will merge old money with new blood-tainted money if I allow the wedding to proceed as planned.
As my teeth gnaw on India’s bottom lip, mine shift into a smug smirk. I’m acting as if I have control of the situation when that’s far from the truth. India’s virginal blood is smeared on my cock, and her salty tears are flavoring our kiss, yet all I did was seal my mouth over hers. India crept her hand into the waistband of my jeans. She undid my belt and removed my cock from its trunks to line it up with her fragrant-smelling cunt. Just like it was her who slammed down on my rock-hard erection to impale herself with one quick thrust.
Don’t misread what I am saying. I’m not a saint by any means. I’ve met the rock of her hips grind for grind, toyed with her clit when the clenches of her greedy cunt almost suffocated my cock, and gripped her tighter and tighter when the fiery way our bodies are connected slicked our skin with sweat. I just didn’t instigate the fuck that’ll switch her from being a real-life princess to a mafia monarch. That was all on India… as will my seed if her cunt doesn’t stop sucking at me like it is.
After adjusting the tilt of her hips, widening her more for me, I give her the last inch of my cock. She calls out, her moans equally erotic and earth-shuddering. Needing her to be quiet before our romp is caught by one of the many guards who walk these corridors at night, I remove my hand from her sweaty hip to her mouth. I can’t see shit in the poor conditions, but my hand is so large, it swamps a majority of India’s face, so it’ll soon take care of her moans.
“If you don’t want your husband-to-be to know the reason you’ll have to dye your wedding dress before festivities next week, take it down a notch.” My words are grunts jutted by the brutal slams of my cock.
The tightness of India’s cunt guarantees her father’s claims about her once saintliness were true, however, I can’t hold back. I love to fuck, and although I’ve dreamed about this day for weeks, it’s above and beyond anything I could have imagined.
Not all virginity fucks have to be uncomfortable. You’ve just got to find a man who knows what he’s doing. I doubt soft-cock Achim would have been up to the task. That’s why he fools around with the help, so he doesn’t have to worry about anyone’s needs bar his own.
“Or perhaps we should let Achim hear your screams, then, once I’m done claiming every inch of you, we can dye your dress in his blood,” I growl when India’s pussy tightens around my shaft. She tugs at me, gripping my cock as well as her dislike of her husband-to-be tightens the noose around his neck. “Do you want a war, Duchess?” I ask while rubbing my thumb over her clit. “‘Cause I’m ready for battle. I was built for carnage, so perhaps we should play the fucker at his own game.”
My gravelly reassurance I’ll fight to the death for her sends India freefalling into ecstasy. She comes apart in my arms, her entire body used to climax. I continue pumping into her, unafraid of the fiery wreck I’m steering us toward. My cock is not sheathed, and the sucks of her cunt are greedy, but the only way I’m pulling out without coating the walls of her cunt with my seed is if someone puts a gun to my head.
Even then, there are no guarantees.
This feels too fucking good to let a threat of death end it.
“Let them hear you,” I say as I drop my hand from her mouth to her hip before doubling the rock of my hips. “Let him hear what I do to you, and how well the Corbyn men fuck. Let the war begin without a single bullet being fired. I’ll give you the crown you’re craving, Duchess. It just won’t be pronged with jewels.”
India begins to shake like she’s about to have another orgasm. “You like that, don’t you, Duchess? You want to rule a kingdom, not sit in a crystal tower.” I pin her closer to the shelving with my hips before returning my hand to her face. I grip her cheeks firm enough she’ll feel the sting of my fingers as long as her pussy will feel the burn of taking my cock unprepared. “I’ll give you what you want. I will give you the entire world… after I’ve taken it all away from you first.”
As cum erupts from my cock in roaring spurts, I seal my lips over India’s. My kiss is as cruel as the way I claimed her—as will be the war our fuck instigated.
Like what your read? PreOrder your copy now!