Page 78 of Crown of Blood

"Get on your knees."

The command falls between us like a blade. Her lips part in surprise.

"What?"

"On. Your. Knees." I point to the floor of the car. "Now."

For a moment, defiance flashes in those amber eyes—the same defiance that first drew me to her, that continues to ignite my blood even now. Then, slowly, deliberately, she slides off the seat onto the floor of the car, kneeling between my legs.

"Good girl," I murmur, hands finding her hair, loosening it from the careful style Teresa had created. "Now show me who you belong to."

Her fingers move to my belt, seductively sexy fucking eyes locked on mine. The metallic click of the buckle, the hiss of leather sliding free—it all sounds louder in the tense silence of the car, like a countdown to something inevitable.

When the zipper slides down, I spread my legs wider, watching her lower herself between them. She wraps her fingers around my cock, and I hiss through my teeth as she strokes once and then sinks her mouth over the head like sheownsit.

Fuck.

My head drops back against the seat, but I’m not surrendering. Not even close. My hand fists in her hair immediately, not to guide, but to control. I grip hard, forcing her down until she gags, then pull her back just enough for air.

"That's it," I growl as she takes my cock deeper. "Show me what a good Ravelli wife you are. Show me who owns this mouth."

She moans around me like a sinner grateful for the pain. Her throat flexes as I thrust, unforgivingly deep, using her mouth like she’s nothing but my possession to reclaim.

Each movement of my hips is deliberate. Brutal. Punishing. Not out of cruelty, but because Ineedthis. I need to erase the memory of Demyan’s stare from her skin. I need to take her back.

I tighten my grip on her hair and pull upwards with a yank.

"Open your eyes," I command. "Look at me while you take my cock."

She obeys instantly, pupils blown wide, tears spilling down her cheeks as she holds my gaze. Her lips are stretched tight around me, her throat working as I fuck her mouth with unrelenting force.

"Everyone in that room wanted you tonight," I grit out, each word laced with venom. "Demyan undressing you with his eyes. Dmitri assessing your worth like breeding stock. But they can't have you."

My hips surge upward, driving deeper, watching her choke around me with a sick kind of satisfaction.

"Tell me who you belong to."

She tries to pull back, gasping when I shift my cock to slide along the inside of her cheek, allowing her just enough space to speak with a mouthful of me.

"You, Luca," she breathes, her voice cracked and soaked in need. "Only you."

"Again."

"I'm yours." Her voice shatters on the words. "Onlyyours."

"And if the Volkovs try to claim you? If they come with their photographs and their hints about your past?"

"I'm a Ravelli." Her words cut through the haze, strong despite the mess I’ve made of her. "Your blood is my blood now."

That’s it. That’s the trigger. I drive her down one last time, holding her in place as I explode with a low groan, hips jerking against her swollen lips, her throat swallowing every hot, bitter pulse.

And my girl takes it like it’s her goddamn purpose.

When I finally ease my grip, she rises slowly, lips slick, eyes dazed. Her hair is a ruined halo, her cheeks flushed and streaked with tears.

I pull her onto the seat beside me, straighten her dress with fingers that are anything but gentle, and brush her collarbone where bruises bloom beneath silk.

"The Volkovs think they know something about you," I say, voice steadier now… barely. "Something that gives them leverage over us."

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