CHAPTER 22 – Leona #2
His lips trail down, scraping against my jaw, my neck, and I shiver at the sensation. He kisses the sensitive skin below my ear, biting gently, marking me. “This body, this power—” he says, voice low and vibrating through me. “I want them all to know it belongs to me.”
His hands move again, and this time they are not gentle.
He rips the slit of my gown higher, exposing more of my legs, then runs his fingers along the skin just above my stockings.
He doesn’t wait for permission. His fingertips trail up my thigh, and I can’t stop the moan that escapes my lips when his fingers find the heat of my core.
“You’re soaked for me already,” he growls against my ear, pressing a finger between my folds, feeling how wet I am, how desperate.
“I need you,” I whisper, my voice trembling as his finger presses deeper, a slow invasion that leaves me gasping.
His lips curl into a satisfied smirk as he watches me writhe beneath his touch. “I know. But I want you to say it. Tell me what you want, Leona.”
His finger pulls back just enough to make me ache, teasing me, knowing exactly what he’s doing to me.
“I want you inside me,” I breathe, unable to keep the words from spilling out. “I want you to take me.”
That’s all it takes. He yanks my dress higher, his hands grasping my thighs, lifting me effortlessly until I’m perched on his lap, straddling him.
I can feel the heat of his cock pressing against me through his trousers, and the tension in my body spikes.
He doesn’t waste any more time. His hand moves to his waistband, unbuckling his belt, freeing himself from the confines of his clothes.
“I’ve wanted this all night,” he growls, the sound of his voice dark and possessive. “I’m going to fuck you right here, in front of all of them. Let them watch what happens when a man claims what’s his.”
The possessive edge to his words sends a thrill through me. My body reacts without thought—desperate for him.
I sink down on him slowly, feeling him fill me, inch by agonizing inch.
He grunts, his grip tightening around my waist as he watches me, his eyes dark with hunger.
His hands move to my hips, guiding me as I begin to move, setting a rhythm, each roll of my hips meeting his thrusts with increasing urgency.
“You feel so fucking good,” he groans, his fingers digging into the flesh of my hips. “So tight, so perfect.”
My breath comes in ragged gasps as I ride him, the world outside of us fading, leaving only the raw, desperate connection between us. I feel every inch of him, the pulse of his cock inside me, the way he fills me so completely that I can barely think.
His hand moves between us, finding my clit, rubbing it in fast circles that make me tremble. The sensation pushes me closer to the edge, and I meet his thrusts with all the intensity in my body, matching his every movement.
“Come for me,” he demands, his voice thick with lust. “Let them see who owns you.”
The words are enough to send me over the edge. I explode around him, my body shaking as waves of pleasure crash over me. I scream his name as I come, feeling him inside me, his body stiffening beneath mine as he follows me, spilling into me with a guttural groan.
We stay locked together for a moment, breathing heavily, the sounds of our climax mingling with the distant hum of the celebration happening around us. I rest my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the darkened alcove as I try to regain my composure.
“Did you enjoy the show?” Marcus whispers against my ear, his voice laced with satisfaction.
I smile softly, still catching my breath. “I think they’re all wishing they were me right now.”
His lips curl into a smile as he pulls me closer, still holding me firmly in his lap. “They can only dream.”
Across the space, Genevieve catches my eye, raising a glass in silent toast. Beside her, Lucius whispers something in her ear that makes her smile.
Marcus helps me stand on shaky legs, guiding me toward a corridor I hadn't noticed before. "Come," he says simply.
The hallway leads to a series of private rooms—some with doors open, revealing intimate encounters within. Others closed, sounds of pleasure escaping nonetheless. Marcus selects one at the end, ushering me inside before closing the door behind us.
The space is dominated by a large bed draped in black silk. But what draws my attention are the mirrors—covering the ceiling, positioned strategically on the walls, ensuring that every angle, every moment can be witnessed by the participants.
"No audience here," Marcus says, loosening his tie. "Just us."
"And our reflections." I move to the center of the room, watching myself in the mirrored wall—flushed, the picture of desire barely sated.
"I want you to see what I see." He approaches from behind, hands sliding around my waist. "Sit." Marcus commands, his voice low and rough.
Without hesitation, I lower myself to the bed, my legs splayed out in front of me.
I’m still wearing the remnants of my gown—torn at the slit, the fabric still clinging to my skin in all the right places—but I’m exposed.
Vulnerable, in a way that thrills me. The mirrors above us ensure that nothing is hidden from view. Nothing is private.
He stands before me, his gaze heavy with desire. I watch him as he slowly removes his jacket, his movements deliberate, measured. Every action he takes seems to be calculated to heighten the anticipation between us.
When his shirt comes off, revealing his chest—sculpted muscle and the faint hint of scars from battles past—my breath catches.
His body is perfection, a product of years of violence, power, and control.
He’s not just the man who commands the streets of Port Hollow; he’s the man who owns every part of me without asking.
His eyes lock onto mine, a challenge passing between us. “Are you ready for what comes next, Leona?”