Page 12 of Broken Queen
Locking eyes with me, Zira bent down, peering into the holes of the mask, searing into my soul.
She smacked the mask off of my head, letting it clatter to the ground, but I refused to stop fucking myself. But once her blue eyes met mine, I forgot what I was doing. She had that sort of power that locked you into a standstill.
“Don’t stop,” she said. “I want to see you come.”
My palm rode over the crown of my dick, the heat getting to me, using my sweat as lubricant.
“Or you could join me,” I rasped.
“I’m married,” she said, drawing out her words like molasses. She dangled that giant rock on her finger in my face. “All I want is a good show.”
I scoffed, still gripping the head of my dick, almost angry that this was her reaction, to treat me like a trick pony. But I didn’t stop. My palm slid up and down over my veiny shaft as I took in every inch of her. Her thighs smashed together. The curve of her stomach. The small hills of her breasts.
Fuck it.
I lurched forward and grabbed that ball of hair, crushing her thick bun until water dripped over my palms, a wave of shock pulsing through her. Chlorinated water drenched my hands, and I plopped back on the seat, using that liquid as lube. It would evaporate soon, but this was good enough for now. A single touch to tease me.
“Married. Right,” I grunted. It was an arranged marriage, one of convenience, not of love, or even lust. He tried to fuck her like he cared about her at the Masquerade, but he lost his focus as soon as a man with a bigger dick walked into the room. He meant nothing to her. He was an opportunity that had been written in her life long before she had the chance to say, I’d rather not.
“You say that,” I continued, “but you live here. On the grounds. With your daddy. You don’t give a fuck about your husband, just like your husband doesn’t care about you.”
She clicked her teeth shut, then tilted her head.
“I’m not going to move away from the power, now am I, Hazard?” she purred, ready with an exact response. She breathed down my nose. “I have a feeling that’s exactly what you’re doing. Trying to claw your way up to the top, like me.”
I let go of my cock, energy twitching through me. She was reading me like an open book, but what she didn’t realize was that I wasn’t as goal-oriented as she was. I was simple. I liked to enjoy things. And it was a blast to hold that grip over someone.
Her lips opened as her eyelids fluttered with lust. I got this feeling like Zira rarely let another person hold that kind of power over her, unless she benefited from it somehow.
“Don’t stop,” she whined.
I bit my upper lip, tearing it with my teeth, then stood up, pulling a knife from my pocket, flicking it against her throat. I yanked her back, gripping that massive bun of hair. My pants sagged down to my hips, my cock still throbbing for her, so damn close to her cunt with only that thin bikini between us. Her ripe fragrance, mixed with the magnolia trees, swirled inside of me like a head high.
“Let me tell you something right now,” I said, my voice low and hoarse. Her neck quivered against the knife, excitement taking her by surprise. “I may have offered you an invitation, love, but I’m no gentlemen, and I’m only honorable to royalty when it fits me best. If I want you, I will fucking take you.” I clenched my jaw. “And one day soon, you’re going to kneel before me. By choice. And you’re going to feel like it’s the last thrill of your life. Because it just might be.”
A staggered moan erupted from her mouth as I pressed the knife deeper into her throat, but still not enough to cut her. My thigh pressed between her legs, her swimsuit soaking through my pants. Each fold of her pussy grasped me like she needed my touch to live. I gripped the knife and her hair with the last thread of composure I had, my dick begging to finish the job.
“Is that a promise?” she whispered.
Fuck. Me.
I let go of her hair and slid the knife down the column of her neck, dragging a white line across her skin before folding the blade and stowing it in my pocket. She was a lioness, waiting to hunt me. Completely unafraid. I zipped up my pants, my dick hard as ever. Her gaze stayed glued to me, but I nodded at the bull mask.
“Let’s trade,” I said. “A mask for a crown.”
She huffed through her nostrils, a hint of amusement sparked on her lips. “I don’t want your mask,” she said. “I want something else.”
“Fair,” I said.
“But I’m curious. What do you want, Hazard?”
I put a finger under her chin. “What do I want, love?” I asked, dipping my face closer to hers. I needed to find out what happened to my sister, but right then, my mind was completely absorbed by Zira. “I want you on a platter. Naked. Helpless. And ready for me.” I winked, then gestured at the mask again, pulling away from her. “You should try it on sometime. You’d look good in a skull.”
I popped my jaw, letting the crack of bone ripple between us. Her lips hung open, ready to take me in, and that’s exactly how I wanted to leave her—desperate for more. I walked away, back toward the supplies shed, and her focus burned into my back. She was as curious about me as I was about her. Zira had her hands bound in power; she knew things. With a little luck and a good stroke, she might even give me everything I wanted.
CHAPTER 4
Zira
