Defiant Queen (Mount Trilogy #2)

Besides, what the fuck do I know about how to raise a kid, or how to love anyone? My entire life has revolved around control or the lack of it, and all I know is how to hold tight to the power I’ve fought to gain over so many years. I know I should use condoms from now on, but the thought of separating my dick from her hot pussy with a layer of latex has me gritting my teeth.

I don’t want anything between us.

I know I’m in deeper than I should be, but I can’t make myself pull back. What’s more, I don’t want to pull back.

When Keira stands in front of me, her tits heaving against the bustier while she tries to catch a breath, I cup her cheek again.

“Not bad, for a beginner.”

She lifts a shaking hand to her face and draws all but her middle finger back before pressing a kiss to the pad of it, flipping me off again.

What would it be like to have her as compliant after sex as she is during?

A pipe dream, no doubt.

I reach out to snatch her wrist and force her hand down between her legs. Without breaking her defiant green gaze, I drag her finger over the drenched seam of her pussy.

“You feel that? You’re soaked for me. Deny it all you want, but we both know the truth.” Using her finger, I tap her piercing lightly, knowing it will drag her closer to the edge the fastest. “You think it’s your turn to come?”

“Yes! I did what you wanted.” Her response carries an undeniable edge of need.

I use her finger to tease her entrance. “And you think that entitles you to an orgasm?”

Her nod is swift, and I continue to torture her with her own finger, her breathy moans making my dick hard again already.

Before she can come, I yank her hand away and catch her other wrist, pinning both behind her back as she struggles against my hold.

“No. You don’t get to come. That’s what you get for being late.”

“It was five minutes!”

“Five minutes or five hours, you were still late.”

“But—”

“Give me one more excuse, and the only butt we’re going to be talking about is the one filled with a plug right now. Actually, I think you’re almost ready. One more size to go, and we’re going to see if I can finally fit my fat cock in your ass.”





Keira





How can my nipples be hard, my pussy be wet, and my hand itch to grab the lamp on his desk to bludgeon him to death all at the same time?

This man drives me absolutely insane. If I don’t get away from him right now, I’ll do something unthinkable.

Like lay yourself out on his desk and beg him to fuck you in exchange for whatever he wants, as long as he lets you come? I shove down my inner voice as I tug my wrists from Mount’s grip.

Surprisingly, he lets me go.

I edge away from the desk, trying to gauge his expression. He’s impossible to read.

“I assume you’d like to go to work today?” he asks.

Work. How the hell did I forget about work?

“Yes. Of course. There’s always more to do there.”

“That I understand.”

It’s strange to think about, but maybe it’s the one thing we have in common—we both run our own business. Or in his case, an empire. But then again, that’s my goal too, for Seven Sinners to dominate the world whiskey market. My dad’s plans were never so grand, nor were his father’s or grandfather’s, but I think bigger. I see what we could be, if only I had the right connections and the cash. That’s part of how Brett sucked me in so easily. He made me believe that he shared my vision. He painted the picture of the future I wanted so badly, and I fell for it and him.

Brett.

The thought of him makes bile rise in my throat as I remember the note on the first appointment reminder that popped up this morning. Your prior appointment has been handled.

I take a few more steps away from Mount before I voice the question I originally rushed to his door to have answered. “How did you— What did you—” I stumble over the words, unable to get them right. “What happened with Brett?”

Mount’s unreadable expression shifts into that granite-like hardness I’ve come to know well. “You won’t ever have to worry about him again.”

“But what does that mean?”

My voice rises because this isn’t something I can just let go. Last night, seeing the man I thought I’d laid to rest standing at my doorway was the ultimate shock. I’ve never before fainted in my life, but I hit the floor like a bag of grain.

When I came to, Brett stood over me, his weight shifting from foot to foot as he crossed and uncrossed his arms. The barrel of the gun in his hand constantly moved as he used the back of his hand to rub his nose, sniffling like he had a cold. I’ve never recognized the signs before, but after what Magnolia told me, I knew that he was on drugs. Cocaine, I assumed. I don’t have the kind of experience to know if it was something else, and thank God for that.

His face, once so familiar, was thinner, his cheeks hollowed and the dark circles under his eyes so prominent, they looked like mine when I wake up without washing the eye makeup from my face after a night out.

It didn’t take long for him to tell me exactly what he wanted. Money. And the penalty for not following through? Killing my entire family.

Did he scare the frigging hell out of me? Yes. Did it piss me off that people kept threatening people I love? Absolutely.

He laid out his plan and I promised to comply because, hell, I’ve already sold my body for them, what was giving up money I didn’t even know I had? At this point, it seemed there was nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice to save them, not that they’d ever know.

When Brett left, it was with a sickening laugh before he shut the door.

“Too bad you were so fucking awful at running a business. I would’ve stuck around longer if that place hadn’t been going down the tubes. Then again, you were a terrible lay. Not sure I could’ve stomached sticking my dick in your frigid pussy again.”

I wanted to scream. Rage. Tell him that the only reason I’ve done the most impulsive thing of my life—eloping with him—was because I thought he was the one to give me everything I ever wanted the night of the masquerade. But I didn’t. He was already unstable, and I wasn’t about to make it worse.

I just wanted him gone, and now I want to know if he’s gone for good.

“Did you kill him?” I put the question to Mount point-blank.

He lowers himself back into his desk chair, laces his fingers together, and rests them on his desk. “Haven’t you realized by now that I will never answer that question, no matter how many times you ask it or who it is you ask about?”

My spine stiffens at his non-answer, and I stalk across the room again until only his desk separates us. “Don’t you think I deserve to know if I’m really a widow this time?”

He looks down at the desk, and I follow his every movement. His thumbs tap together three times before he raises his head and meets my gaze.

“I could take you before any judge or preacher in this city, and you’d be my wife in less than ten minutes.”