Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Excited, she leans onto her elbows. “What is it?”
I lift a plate of New York Cheesecake then another of crème brûlée. “Every dessert they have. I didn’t want to presume this time.”
“Oh, Vic. You are so amazing.”
“Do something for me?”
“Yes.” Luxury’s gaze radiates how she’ll do anything for me. For us. If the little minx only knew the mayhem I caused her. I look at her, appreciating her willingness, her innocence. Some would prefer a woman well versed in the art of fucking. If I craved a cunt who sharpened her skills without my edict, I would’ve mounted Princess Noor. I crave the trainable ones.
And after you train her, you idiotic wanka?
I ignore the man whose duties have already spread him thin. “Come.”
The second she starts off the bed, she nearly crumples to the floor. A silly smile of consolation brightens her face. “Crawling permitted?”
“Not at all, Little One. You are under strict orders to only ever crawl when my cock has beckoned you.”
I stroll over to help her up from the floor and into my arms. “As I suspected, your body is too broken to carry you across the room, Luxury, because I destroyed you.”
“Vic.” Her tone is a delicious rasp as my fingers dip into her cunt. The pulse at her core beats wildly at my fingertips. “I can’t take anymore.”
“No, you cannot. Because you love when I fuck you half to death, Luxury.” I toss out the specific word, the catalyst that will continue breaking Luxury for me. I slide her into position, straddling my lap, and settle at the table near the cart. “I will not always be there to pick you up . . . from the floor, Luxury.”
The silly smile falls. She starts to draw her legs shut but realizes dominating power rests between them. If she were any other woman in the world, this is where I’d insert the truth. This is where I’d declare, “I will not always be there, Luxury.” I would say in earnest, “You will never ever feel as alive as you do while in my arms, Luxury. You can never go back to your life as though I never existed. But you must understand, I cannot be there for you.”
Albeit, I will spare Luxury the truth for now because I’ve got a new impulsive craving, which doesn’t revolve around setting up the kill shot. So, I present to my Little One every form of dessert. She will indulge, and I will have my cake.
24
VICTOR
At fourteen, the chance of me receiving broken bones diminished. Graham understood the word ‘no.’ He avoided our wanka of a father. The arsehole disappeared for so long I’d begun to wonder if my new, impulsive craving for blood came from a wraith long thrust back to hell.
One day, Prince Silas returned, and the little rugrat had forgotten to fear him. Maybe my little brother threw Father’s new mobile in the toilet, perhaps even our coat of arms. But it was either the toddler . . . or me.
Mum preferred that I not cause a scene around our home after such episodes. Her stomach couldn’t tolerate the bloodied noses or split lips. A bruised royal, how could it be?
Face throbbing, I stalked through the flower fields. The scent of fresh rain was all about, but I could only breathe through my mouth.
“You’re dripping blood. Will it clean itself?”
My sorry gaze tracked over to a girl. In a fraction, I assessed her for what she was—pathetic and unsightly. She had mouse-brown hair, brown eyes, and porcelain skin.
I ran the sleeve of my black blazer over my nose. “There. Perfect.”
“Hmmm, now I see why your wardrobe consists of all black. Come along.”
I dropped my hands into my pants pocket. Vile thoughts of my father whispered into my ear.
Kill.
Everything weak didn’t deserve life.
But that simply wasn’t true. Graham was a weakling and also shared my blood. I was duty bound to protect him.
“Come along,” she rejoined. “My nanny will bandage your hand and straighten your nose. Perhaps she can stitch—”
I shrugged. Burt was on holiday and had left before Prince Silas’ arrival. He would’ve stayed and risked another discharge if Father had set his eyes on him.
When we arrived at Madeline’s estate, her nanny was nowhere to be found. With determined shoulders and a kind spark in her eye, Maddy did what my mother had feared. She cleaned me up herself.
Luxury has the same sparkle in her eyes when we’re together, resolve unmatched. As Luxury sleeps so tiny in my arms, I sense a mixture of my old friend, Madeline, in her. Similar radiant auras.
After the first night I bedded Luxury, the chit was curious about the man who wears all black. I redirected the focus to her life, allowing Luxury to discuss growing up with her mum. The tactic was to keep her at arm’s length, yet at that very moment, Luxury brought me even closer to her than I thought possible.