👑Queen Sh*t! 👑

Sunday Funday Teaser:

Camille:

“Kane…” I warn, voice shaky, weak. “No.”

His mouth curves into a slow, arrogant smirk. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You have that look.”

His eyes flicker with something dangerous, something raw, as they trace the outline of my body beneath the robe. He leans back, resting his weight on his hands as he watches me. His gaze lingers where the fabric clings to my skin, the only thing separating me from him.  

“Look?” 

My cheeks flush hotter, my pulse leaping violently at the lazy, dangerous drawl in his voice. He knows exactly what look I’m talking about, but he’s making me spell it out anyway, forcing me to admit how clearly I can read every filthy thought behind those dark eyes.

“The look,“ I whisper, gripping the robe’s sash tighter, as if that flimsy fabric could possibly protect me from the wicked intent radiating from his stare. “The one that says you’re about three seconds from throwing me back onto that bed and making a meal out of me.”

He chuckles softly, deep and low, the sound sliding down my spine like the slow drag of his tongue. It shouldn’t feel so good to hear him laugh like that. Shouldn’t feel like I’ve just won a prize for amusing him, desperate to do it again, desperate to hear that sound over and over.

“What can I say?” he murmurs, eyes darkening. “I’m a very picky eater.”

I roll my eyes, feigning annoyance, but the traitorous flush still blooms beneath my skin, betraying exactly how much I like his brand of teasing. “Well, too fucking bad. Find something else to eat,” I say sharply, lifting my chin, stubborn even as heat coils tight and traitorous between my thighs. “I’m sore.”

“Come here,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, eyes glinting playfully. “I’ll kiss it better.”

“Kane…” I warn, halfheartedly.

“I’ll be good.”

I laugh softly, shaking my head. “That word isn’t even in your vocabulary.”

He smirks, utterly unapologetic. “Scout’s honor.”

I arch an eyebrow. “You were never a Boy Scout.”

He presses a hand dramatically over his heart, the tattoos shifting beneath his palm. “I’m wounded you think so little of me. Fine, I’ll behave.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Cross my heart,” he drawls, making a slow, lazy cross over his inked chest, the devil gleaming brightly in his smile. “And hope to die.”

I fight the smile tugging at my lips. Stepping toward him defiantly, I  nearly stumble as the heavy fabric of his robe tangles around my feet. Heat blooms across my cheeks, but I quickly regain my balance and closing the space between us, stopping mere inches away, daring him to prove exactly how much he means that promise.

His eyes darken instantly dropping shamelessly to the space between my thighs, like he’s already imagining his mouth there, devouring me whole, savoring the one meal he’ll never get enough of.

But he doesn’t move, doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he simply reaches out, wrapping the tie around his fist, and gives it one sharp tug. The robe falls open instantly, sliding off my shoulders, baring me completely to his hungry stare.

I’m naked in front of him, bare and trembling slightly. With my height, his face is perfectly aligned with my breasts, nipples already tight and begging for his mouth. He stares at them like he might devour me whole, but he holds back, visibly straining against his own nature.

Instead, his hands slide around my hips, pulling me closer until I’m standing between his thighs, his face pressed gently against my skin, breath warm and uneven as he whispers softly “See? Perfect gentleman.”

He tilts his head back slightly, looking up at me through thick lashes, a heated smirk curving his lips as his voice drops to a rough whisper. “Now, tell me where it hurts, Muñequita.” he demands softly, fingers tightening possessively at my hips. “Show me exactly where I broke you.”

I lift my hand slowly, deliberately, tracing my fingertips across my lips. He watches closely.

“Kiss it better,” I whisper softly, a teasing command that dares him to break first.

His jaw clenches tight, but he leans forward obediently, he licks my lips before pressing a slow, lingering kiss exactly where my fingertips rest, his eyes locked onto mine the entire time.

Good.

Keeping his gaze captive, I drag my fingers downward, trailing lightly over the curve of my breasts, tracing slow circles around my already aching nipples, watching his mouth part, eyes blazing with hunger.

“Here,” I breathe softly, challenging him again.

He growls quietly, tension rippling through every muscle, but he moves again, mouth following my fingertips, lips brushing gently over each tight, begging peak, tongue flicking just enough to make me gasp, but never fully giving in.

“Lower,” his voice low, daring me back.

I smile slowly, dangerously, sliding my hand down the plane of my stomach, feeling his gaze follow every inch until my fingers dip between my thighs, parting slick, swollen flesh.

“Here…”

His eyes flare violently, every carefully built restraint shattering in an instant. He grips my hips tighter, fingertips bruising my skin as he jerks me forward, closing the final fraction of distance between us.

“You’re playing a dangerous fucking game, Camille,” he growls, eyes blazing as he stares at my fingers slowly circling my swollen clit. “Careful or I might break more than just my promise.”

I bite my lip, leaning closer, taunting him further. “Maybe I want you to.”

His restraint snaps like a whip cracking through the air, and suddenly he’s falling back onto the bed, dragging me with him. In one breathless second, I’m splayed on top of him, our mouths crashing together, tongues tangling roughly, hungrily. He grips my thighs hard, spreading them wider, fingers digging in, branding my skin with his possession.

“Come sit on your throne, Camille,” he whispers against my mouth.

“Wha…?” 

My heart slams violently against my ribs, breath hitching as he pulls me upward, guiding me into position until I’m straddling his face. His eyes blaze into mine, hungry and triumphant as his tongue drags slowly over my dripping folds.

I moan sharply, hips rolling instinctively, hands gripping the headboard for balance as his mouth devours me shamelessly. His tongue plunges deep, fucking me in slow, devastating strokes before flicking relentlessly against my swollen clit.

“Ka-Kane…fuuuck!” I gasp out, grinding desperately against his mouth, thighs trembling violently around his head. He groans roughly against my pussy, the sound vibrating through my core, tongue relentless as he drags it through my soaked folds, licking deep, filthy strokes. His fingers grip my hips with bruising force, guiding me, forcing me to roll my hips against his mouth, to ride his face shamelessly, slow and rhythmic, then fast and reckless like I’m performing the most erotic dance of my life, and he’s determined to taste every desperate move.

I rock harder, grinding myself down onto his tongue, spiraling, losing control with each slick, sinful slide of my clit over his lips. My hands clutch at the headboard, thighs trembling violently around his face as pleasure builds, intense and white-hot, burning through every nerve.

He doesn’t stop.

Doesn’t give me a second to breathe.

Doesn’t let me pretend for one single second that I have any control.

Because this is my throne, and he built it just so he could watch me break on it.

****

Authors Note:

Well damn. 😂

Grab your ARC now and get on Kane’s face! Promise you’ll like it! 😜

https://booksirens.com/book/KZQKREN/MDQRNVK