Possessive Royal (Duke of Tudor #2) Read Online Amarie Avant

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Duke of Tudor Series by Amarie Avant
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
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* * *

This evening as Luxury showers, I step into the bathroom, a bottle of whiskey in hand, and silently take a seat on the paisley stool. The water rushes down her voluptuous arse.

Enthralled, I lean forward. My mind considers how to mold Luxury into the person she should become. One that doesn’t allow tragedy to overcome her. A person who rules their own destiny.

The first day I laid eyes on Luxury, she was as hopeless as I once was. I was a royal duke with more money at my disposal than I’d ever use. I was bulldozing businesses, building an empire, but I was dead the day Emeli . . . died. The dynamics of my status with X-Member brought me back to life. Luxury was dead when I met her.

She shall live.

I will revive her.

The target practice is proceeding as expected. We have time. Once we commence physical combat, her new behaviors will fall in place. I keep holding off on the self-defense training because I want Luxury to finish her mother’s journal.

As I take in her lovely form, my mouth instantly waters. I pour myself a glass of firewater, twirl it, then down it.

Luxury turns around and gasps. “Victor! You scared the shit out of me.”

My index finger twirls in a manner for her to follow suit. Luxury proceeds, running the sudsy sponge over her hip, and my eyes stay latched to her backside as I slowly undress.

I open the door and step into the shower just as she picks up the shampoo. Taking it from her hands, I open it and squeeze out just enough.

The glare in Luxury’s eye reminds me that she’d rather not be fully liberated and indulge in this ritual—my washing her hair. Earlier, while she’d stroked the new foal’s mane, Luxury had mentioned that she was ready to go home. Jumpstart her life.

I have a finagling feeling that she’d stay if I gave her . . . love. What a crippling ultimatum. As I massage the shampoo in her hair, I whisper, “You are mine.”

There is no need to advise Luxury that she is not permitted to leave.

“Victor, I know that.” She sighs.

“Did you know that I am yours, Luxury? I don’t care how anyone else sees it, Little One. You’re my equal.”

“You’re so tedious, Vic.” She groans. “You always torture me with the sweetest things while shampooing my hair.”

I smile. Luxury’s eyes close as my fingertips work at the base of her head. Her soft pink lips part in a way that I know requesting my love is right there on the tip of her tongue. A sexy tongue that has enjoyed my dick on many occasions.

Without speaking, Luxury steps back into the rain showerhead, allowing her curly hair to get wet. My fingers suds up the soap in her hair. My eyes track those sexy lips as they curve into a smile. Yes, lips swollen with need. She desires a kiss. I choose not to.

The soapy suds slosh to the floor as my hands weave through her hair, washing out the day. Closing her eyes, Luxury’s lips part in a soft moan. Her lips pucker as my mouth meets hers. I bite her bottom lip instead.

“Open your eyes, Lux.”

Her eyes pop open, and I finally allow the kiss to deepen. Luxury’s legs wrap around my waist. Though slippery, I steady her body around me and gently lower her velvet hollowness down onto my erection. My faint sigh goes to her ear with a kiss. The fit, the exquisite tight fit, blows my mind each time.

My biceps bulge as I pump into her cunt. She holds onto my neck, grip tight as if she had a momentary fear of falling.

“Unhand me, Lux,” I tell her, as her arms try to wrap around me tighter and tighter.

“No.” She whimpers, soft body shuddering against my hard muscles.

“You said no?” I dig into her velvet valley. Lux’s fear washes away as she buries herself into the nook of my neck. I violate her fucking core. Each groan propels me to fuck all my cock into her cunt—leave not a single inch of her untouched.

“Shite,” I mutter against Luxury’s throat. Her pussy begs my acquisition.

Pounding.

Rammed.

Brutally punished.

Thrust intensifying in passion, I pull out at the second Luxury’s walls anticipate quivering around my cock. My fist wraps around her hair.

Luxury’s brought to the ground.

Kneeling.

Submissive.

She balks at my cock.

My angry, fucking, veiny cock.

She lets out an explosive gasp. “Vic, I was going to cum!”

“You said, ‘No.’ You’re not at liberty to cum. I am,” I grit, fisting my cock.

Eyes gloss in despair; lips part to make a concession.

“Don’t,” I order.

Whimpering, Luxury thinks better of asking to play with her clit.

“Open up, Little One.”

Her tensed mouth tips wide, welcoming. As the first jet of my creamy cum cascades over Luxury’s lips, her face glows, eager for more. Heavenly globs glide over her face and mouth, glossing her alluring lips, dripping down the center of her breasts. I erupt, long and hard over a sublime face that could easily have been painted inside of the bloody Sistine Chapel.


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