Page 13 of Wicked S.O.B.

“Let’s skip breakfast. I don’t need to be at school till eleven. That gives us four hours of me being your complete and utter slave. Who knows? I might even wear you out long enough for you to sleep through my class.”

He turns and grabs me by the waist. I wrap my legs around his hips the moment he picks me up. “You’ll never wear me out for that to happen. And you damn well know I don’t fucking sleep when you’re not here.”

“So is that a no to skipping breakfast?” I ask as I bury my face in his neck and take a huge, glorious hit of his warm, vibrant skin. When I add my teeth to the mix, he stumbles on his way out of the kitchen. The T-shirt I claim to love comes off somewhere between the kitchen and the bedroom.

Once he has me pinned beneath him on the rumpled bed, he tunnels his fingers into my hair. Enthralling silver eyes hook into me. “I’m not a decent human being. You know this. So what’s to stop me from tying you to this bed and keeping you here the whole fucking day?”

It’s my turn to tremble at the mildly sinister intent in his voice. Echoes of his past alter ego Q bounce over us as he stares at me. I can’t help but recall the first time he had me blindfolded and tied to his bed. Other than the presence of the cameras he’d been recording our session with, it was one of the most primal and erotic experiences of my life.

“You’re not as bad as you’d like me to think. Besides, you love me.”

A flicker in his eyes acknowledges the power of that statement. “Loving you doesn’t mean I’m happy about this.”

I bring my feet up, hook my toes into his waistband, and nudge the sweatpants down. He lifts himself off me long enough for his cock to spring out before he’s back again, his stiff dick nudging my core. “Besides skipping school, tell me how I can make it better.”

He doesn’t even take a second to think. “Let me buy another horse for Petra.”

“Really? Why?”

“She’s happy, you’re happy. I get less bullshit from you.”

I roll my eyes. “God, you’re incorrigible. What else?”

“You, turning up at two o’clock sharp at Steinway’s.”

“So Iamgoing to be missing breakfast?” I ask hopefully. Breathlessly.

“You are. You get to suffer, too, for making me lose my appetite.”

It’s a punishment I can more than live with. I slide the arches of my feet up the backs of his thighs. “Have you lostallyour appetites?”

“You trying to distract me with your pussy works well to a point, baby. You will get fucked, but I’m not done with my appeasement list.”

He nudges me a little, and my breath fractures at the promise of his cock. “Okay,” I say in a rush.

“Dinner at Juniere’s tonight to make up for missing breakfast.”

“Deal.” The third proposal makes me the most happy because I’ve found out since we’ve been together that Juniere’s was his mother’s favorite restaurant. We’ve only been back there a handful of times since the first time he took me there last year. It’s a special place for him, which makes it special to me too.

I lift my head to kiss him. He pulls away.

“Stay still.” More echoes of Q. “Arms above your head. Grip the headboard.”

My breath shakes in my lungs as I comply. He levers himself over me and stares into my eyes as he penetrates me with excruciating patience.

When he’s fully seated inside me, he stops moving. Just stares at me. “Blackwood Estate has a private real estate licensing program. Did you know that?”

Oh God, he’s not done with voicing his displeasure. Too late I realize he was merely changing his tactic, using his most potent weapon.

Sex. Toe-curling, mind-bending sex. The problem is I’m addicted. And Quinn knows this. Knows it and exploits every iota of it.

“Did you?” he presses, while I’m dying with the need to beg him to move.

“Yes.”

He pulls out and slowly glides himself back inside me. My eyes roll in pleasure.

“So you understand how it’s difficult for me not to take what you’re doing personally, especially when you enrolled at this third-rate school without telling me.”

---