The Bandit (The Stolen Duet #1)

“Why would you do that?” I gasped when he strung the right cord over my clit.

“Because it would be fun for me.” I wasn’t surprised. Someone like Z was always looking for fun. “I won’t fuck you if you don’t beg me to. I’ll just get you off… I know you’re in need.”

“I won’t help you betray him.” I shrunk back when his eyes narrowed to fiery slits. Chill bumps that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room lined my skin even as my entire body flushed from the rush of heat.

“I’d never betray my brothers.”

“Then what do you call going behind his back by keeping me sane?” Insanity was the only word to describe why I wanted my captor’s touch.

“Helping him.” I almost missed his words and the vehement way he spoke them.

“How could getting me off help him?”

Instead of answering, the corner of his lips lifted and his eyes lit with mischief. “You’ll see, and you’ll both thank me. All I’ll require is his first son named after me.”

“Excuse me?” I successfully yanked his hand from between my legs and told myself I didn’t mind the loss. “Why would I have any say in that?”

His gaze lit up and then I felt his fingers pushed through my hair. His hand cupped my face perfectly, making the moment intimate. “Damn, you’re naive,” he whispered, ruining the moment.

“I’m not naive. I want to kill him .”

I gasped when he stole my lips with his and sighed. His lips didn’t taste like that of a serpent. His kiss was warm and gentle. He skillfully coaxed me into kissing him back, but he didn’t stop there. I accepted his tongue when he offered it, and he seduced away any doubt I had.

I felt his hand on my thigh, but I didn’t care about it. I only cared for what came next. When his lips left mine to trail to my neck, I didn’t fight him. It took every bit of fortitude and dignity he hadn’t already seduced away not to beg for more. Finally, he took pity on me and lifted his lips from my throat. A groan followed when his gaze settled between my thighs.

“You have a pretty pussy,” he praised. “Maybe even the prettiest I’ve ever seen.” Without warning, he slid his teasing finger deep, and I arched my back against the shocking pleasure of it. “You didn’t have to go hungry with a cunt like this.”

“Please don’t say that word.”

“What word?”

“Cunt. I don’t like it.”

“Why?” He looked genuinely interested in the answer just before he shed his shirt. My mouth fell open, and I could have sworn my tongue swelled. Maybe all the moisture seeped inside because my mouth was dry as hell.

“It makes me feel dirty.”

“But you are dirty.” He leaned down until his hard chest was flush against my needy breasts. “You’re our dirty, little girl.”

“It’s crass.”

He swiped a finger through the lips of my pussy. “Is crass the reason your cunt is so wet?”

“Don’t.” He continued to caress me.

“Don’t what? Touch your cunt?” He leaned closer until his lips brushed mine. “Make it wetter?”

“Stop it.”

“No.” He stroked faster. My hips began to move of their own accord. “Such a greedy puss.” I couldn’t fight where my body was taking me. Effortlessly, he shoved me over the edge and watched me fall but not before pressing a finger inside me. The walls of my pussy gripped the digit as I fell down, down, down…

I was paralyzed once I finally stopped falling. The violent tremors had ceased, and my moans had fallen silent. Only the sound of his throaty chuckle signaled that I was alive. He then kissed me on my forehead and smirked when his gaze met mine.

“Sleep tight, kid.”





Chapter Twenty-Seven


Father knows best.

ANGEL

Three Years Ago



“Where are you, Angeles? You should have been back a week ago.”

“And why is that?” I questioned when I knew the reason for his call. Business was usually high this time of year with jobs that took him away for a long time.

“You said you needed a break so I gave you one. Now it’s time to resume your duty.”

“She’s sixteen fucking years old. Why does she still need a babysitter?”

“Watch your fucking mouth,” he cursed back. “If you want to work for me, you take orders just like anyone else.”

“Yeah? How many babysitting jobs did you do for granddad?”

“Don’t question me, son. I earned my place just as you will. Get here.” The call disconnected, and I crushed my phone in my fist rather than chuck it across the room.

Mian fucking Ross. That little girl has owned me since she was ten. Every day for six years, I kept her, protected her, and grew a little more obsessed with her each day. My father knew of my obsession with her but didn’t have the good judgment to keep her away from me. He preached control but seemed to do everything he could to try to make me lose it.

Hours later, I walked into the quiet brownstone. For a moment, I wondered if anyone was even home until I heard the musical lilt of her laugh. I stopped when my dick stirred to life and swore.

She’s sixteen.