Defiant Queen (Mount Trilogy #2)

“No, it’s definitely not minor.” I lick my lips, devoid of lipstick because I told Brigid and Briana that I’d take care of that myself in case we were going to eat first.

“That’s not exactly helping the problem either.” His voice is rough and deep, like it takes everything he has to keep himself in check.

“You want to go downstairs like this?” I lift my gaze to his for a beat before dropping it again. His gaze is too intense for me. “If you walk into the ballroom like this, I can guarantee none of those wives will be able to look away.”

He tilts my chin up, careful in his movements but still forcing my attention to his face. “Would that bother you?”

A blast of possessiveness blows through me as though I stepped in front of a raging fire. “Maybe,” I say with a shrug.

“Then by all means, take care of it.”

His words are a dare, one he thinks I won’t take. But after last night, I don’t have a clue what I want anymore, except to destroy any of the fairy tales I let myself believe, even if they were only for a moment.

I sweep my dress to the side and lower myself to my knees before him, then shoot a pointed look up at him. “Don’t you dare mess up my hair.”

His palms flex as though dying to do it anyway, but he forces them to grip the edge of the bar behind him.

I work his button and zipper free and finally wrap my hand around the hot thickness of his cock. This time, I feel powerful.

“What about your makeup?” he asks, his tone strangled.

“As long as you don’t come on my face, we’ll be fine.”

When he doesn’t answer, I lower my lips close enough to dart out my tongue and lick a bead of pre-cum from the head.

He groans, and I pull back.

“Deal?”

“Yes. Sweet fucking Christ, woman. Are you trying to make me beg?”

“It would be a nice change.”

He growls down at me. “Go ahead and try.”





Keira





“Fuck.”

The satisfaction I get when he throws his head back and curses as I cup his balls in one hand and take his shaft deeper is probably unhealthy, but I don’t care. As soon as he tossed down the challenge, I was on a mission.

The power struggle I understand is back, except this time, I have the advantage.

I drop my head to suck one ball into my mouth and then the other, and his groan fills the suite. I keep waiting for him to break my rule and destroy my hairstyle, which would give us both a reason not to leave the room, but he doesn’t.

He’s respecting my request, and that adds another layer to the power trip I’m already on.

I work his shaft, alternating my hand and mouth but never letting go of his balls, and glance up from beneath my eyelashes. His dark gaze spears me, and the raw need and desire in it has me ready to throw my advantage out the window. Hearing him beg pales in comparison to the thought of him yanking me to my feet, spinning me around, and burying his cock inside me.

What that says about me, I don’t know or care at this moment.

“Are you going to swallow it all when I come down your throat?” he asks, and I shake my head. His brow furrows with confusion, and I let the head of his cock slide from my mouth with a pop. “What the hell game are you playing here?”

Slowly, I rise to my feet. “No game. Not this time.”

Mount’s eyes go molten. “You want to be fucked, don’t you?”

I nod.

“Thank God.”

He doesn’t follow the story line I plotted out in my head, but when has he ever? Instead, he drags me toward the sofa, then pulls my dress up and out of the way as he bends me over the back. His breath catches when he sees I’m not wearing any panties.

“Naughty fucking girl. When we walk into that gala tonight, you’re still going to feel me pounding inside you. Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Louder.”

“Yes, goddammit!”

“Then you better hold on, because I’m done holding back.”



Mount is one hundred percent true to his word. An hour later, after I’ve repaired my makeup and fixed a few falling tendrils, I can still feel him as the ache pulses between my legs.

I’m still unsteady as we enter the gala. Hell, I’m still unsteady after my first drink. It’s the Mount Effect, I decide.

Everyone’s attention turns to the stage twenty minutes later when the emcee starts announcing winners of the competition. As I smile and clap, I wish more than ever I’d known I was coming because Seven Sinners is just as good, if not better, than those taking home awards tonight.

I open my mouth to tell Mount I need another drink, but the emcee hits the Tasters’ Choice category for American whiskey, and I pause because this is the one I know we could have won.

“And the award goes to . . .” He opens the envelope dramatically before continuing. “Seven Sinners Distillery, the Spirit of New Orleans.”

I look from side to side, wondering if anyone else heard what he said or if I’m still passed out drunk and hallucinating. How is this possible?

Mount’s hand shifts from the small of my back, slipping around to pull me against his side. I look up at him, shock and confusion ripping through me.

“Did you do this? Set us up to win?”

He shakes his head. “All I did is make sure they took it as a late entry. Seven Sinners won this all on its own.”

“Oh my God.” Elation, brilliant and dazzling, fills me.

He jerks his chin toward the stage. “I believe it’s time to accept your award.”

With his hand on my back, we make our way through the crowd, but I climb the stairs to the podium by myself. My hands tremble as I accept the crystal-bottle statue and shake the emcee’s hand.

“Thank you, sir.” From my position on the stage, I scan the crowd, looking for only one face. And it’s not one of my competitors.

It’s his.

When I find it, another wave of exhilaration washes over me. He’s smiling, and it’s one I feel like I’ve only ever before seen in my garbled recollections of last night.

It’s just as brilliant as I thought it would be.

The emcee gives me a nod. “It’s our pleasure, Ms. Kilgore.”

I swallow the emotions threatening to burst free of my chest and make my way back down the stairs. Mount is waiting at the bottom with a surprising expression on his face.

Pride.

“Congratulations, Madam President.”





Mount





As much as I want to spend the entire trip home initiating Keira into the mile-high club, I have to deal with business, and she busies herself doing the same. We work in silence for most of the flight, breaking our respective concentration to eat only once.

In my organization, I expect everyone to work hard, but even then, I rarely see someone with the same work ethic as I have.

But in front of me right now, and all this week, I’ve seen it in Keira.

I was a fool thinking I could take her, fuck her, and keep her in a little box on a shelf like any other toy.

But what the hell am I going to do with her now? Last night was an anomaly. When we get back to New Orleans, things have to return to the way they were. There are no other options.