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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Is my lady still thinking about my mom? About anything other than me at this moment? My hand clasps her neck, and I kiss away her worries. An apology extends from big brown eyes.

I turn Lux over. She gets on her hands and knees. Her arse beckons me in a silent plea. My heavy dick is dripping wet with Luxury’s pleasure, but instead of gearing toward my goal, I press my palms over her arse and enjoy the view. I let my hands knead upward toward her lower back. It arches to perfection.

I sigh. Her sweet tightness pulsates while a puckered arsehole begs my invasion. I stand closer to the bed, slapping my dick against the side of her arse cheek. “If I want to fuck you all night long, what does that mean?”

“That you will fuck me all night long.” Luxury looks back and sighs. “Vic, I didn't mean—”

I smack her arse again with my erection. Luxury gives a sly grin, saying, “You know that kinda hurts.”

I allow my tongue to sink into her pussy, and then flick it up to her arse. Prodding slowly, I start to make my way inside.

Her curvaceous body tenses. “Vic, I never—”

“Do you get to speak?” Again, I smack my manhood against her puckered hole. My thumb finds its way back to her. Slowly, I start to inch inside.

“Now, Luxury, if you'd like to be verbal, feel free to moan. Moaning. Sighing. Screaming. All permitted. But do not speak,” I order in a calming tone. She relaxes some. “Everything I am doing is for you,” I tell her, beginning to get a rhythm. A slow moan starts its way out of her plush lips.

After a while, Luxury moves her arse back to meet the movements of my thumb, and she enjoys it. As her body begins to stiffen, my thumb picks up its beat, gliding swiftly in and out of her tiny arsehole. Luxury’s knees start to shake, her arms too.

I reach down and lick her from pussy to arse again.

“Vicccccccc! Shit, shit, shit.” She pants as an orgasm quakes through her body. Fully spent, Luxury falls onto her stomach.

With a triumphant smile, I turn Luxury around. There will be no rest for the weary. My hands stretch wide. I grab the silkiness of her legs and pull her to the edge of the bed. Lifting her legs up and against my chest, I slide straight in.

33

Luxury

* * *

Skin dewy from a lightning-fast shower, I sit at the vanity in a black panty and bra set. The lights shine down on me as I apply a bit of mascara. I catch Victor’s reflection, eyes all over me as he makes quick work of a bowtie.

“Hey, we really should’ve finished the night with what we just did.”

There’s laughter in his eyes as if he already knows, but asks, “Why is that?”

“Because I fucking can't stop smiling.” I grab the designer raspberry lipstick.

“Choice words, Little One.” His thumb lengthens a cork of my hair, letting the spiral bounce free before he exits.

The smile adorning my cheeks won’t fade. I’ll probably grin at Princess Mary all night—even if she crosses the line.

Fully satisfied with my look, I slip into the peach silk dress Victor selected. My phone’s alarm trills. With a sigh, I step toward the dresser, pick up the phone, and mash the button for the alarm to stop. I pick up my clutch, take out my pills, and pop a birth control pill from the perforated packaging.

My shoulders tense as aggressive footsteps draw near, and I drop the pill.

“Shit!” I scream when Alba’s head pops into the bathroom doorway.

“Oh, Lux, I'm sorry.” Alba gives a wry smile. “I can’t go down there alone. The door to your bedroom was open, but I should have knocked.” She continues to ramble. “I’m just not ready to meet Princess Mary.”

I should get the implant. I find the tiny pill and pick it up from the marble floor. Five second rule. I blow off the germs, then swallow it without water. “Take a deep breath. No matter what, you’ll make a better first impression than I did.”

Alba’s cheeks flame. My story was one of our icebreakers when Graham left us to finish cooking. My stupidity made us hit it off.

By the time we make it downstairs, our spirits have lifted as she tells her own graduation day horror story.

In the sitting room, Graham appears apprehensive, tugging at the silk button of his tux. Victor sits confidently in an oversized chair, paying the princess half his attention as his grandmother talks. The men rise when we enter.

Graham hurries to Alba’s side and takes her hand. “Grandmother, Mother.” He turns to the women who are so different yet resemble each other in appearance. “Meet my love, my fiancée, Alba!”

“Drinks! We must have drinks!” Lady Sarah shouts. “Where is that sexy delectable, Burt—”


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