Queen Takes Rose (Wicked Villains #6) Read Online Katee Robert

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, GLBT, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Wicked Villains Series by Katee Robert
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
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She laughs, a low, wicked chuckle that sends heat zinging through my body. “Access to my pussy is a privilege you haven’t earned, Aurora. You don’t get to mouth off and then get your way.” She considers me for a long moment. “But since you’ve managed to behave for the last few hours, I suppose you may watch.” She turns and snaps her fingers. “Come along.”

I pad after her into her room. She moves to the bed and points to a spot near the bottom corner. “Kneel here.”

I refuse to think too closely at my eagerness to obey. I simply climb up onto the bed and kneel where she indicated. She disappears for a moment into her closet and comes back with a piece of clothing. “Put this on.” When I frown, she sighs. “I prefer my home cold. It helps me think. While you will be naked when I want you to be naked, you won’t sleep well if you’re freezing.”

I blink. “Thank you?”

“It’s not too late to change my mind about allowing you to watch.” She tosses the nightgown at me. I quickly pull it over my head. It’s similar to what she’s wearing, but instead of being a shirt, the button-down will reach my calves when I stand.

“Thank you.” I manage to inject some sincerity into my tone this time. The truth is that it is cold in this place.

And the horrible truth is that I do want to watch.

Malone slides out of her pants and climbs onto the bed, moving to position herself in the center. She crooks a finger. “Closer.” I follow her direction until I’m kneeling between her spread legs. She unbuttons the bottom few buttons of her shirt and parts the fabric, baring herself from the waist down.

Her pussy is pretty and pink and so wet, I can see her glistening from my position. My mouth waters, and I can’t help a flicker of regret that I don’t get to touch her tonight. Taste her. She reaches between her thighs and strokes her clit. I watch, enraptured, as Malone winds herself up. Her lean thighs tense, and her heels dig into the mattress on either side of me. I want to unbutton the shirt the rest of the way, to her see body framed by the slick, gray silk. To follow the lines of her collarbones and breasts and the curve of her hip with my mouth, to replace her fingers with my tongue until she comes all over my face.

Need pulses through me in a heady rush. I spend so much of my time cold and empty. I hide it with smiles and sunshine, but the truth is that a part of me died when my mother went into a coma. The rest of me died yesterday with her.

Few things chase away the dull ache in my chest. Alcohol and sex. I’m too wary of the temptation alcohol offers, so I don’t drink much. But sex? Getting sweaty and slick with another person or three? It’s an addiction I welcome with open arms.

I just want to forget all the hurt and grief, to set it aside for a few hours. I’ll pick it back up in the morning. I always do. Is it too much to ask to dive deep into lust when the feelings become too much to bear?

I shouldn’t want to do it with this woman. Anyone but her. Except I can’t deny the pull Malone exerts, like her own particular brand of gravity. She touches me and I’m in danger of forgetting everything. A danger, yes, but a gift that I desperately crave. I reach out but stop short before I make contact. “Malone. Please.”

Her fingers slow, and for a moment, I think she might be swayed. But those green eyes stay cold even as her lips curve. She lifts her hand. “That’s about enough of that.”

“Wait. What?”

She sits up. “I told you before, Aurora. You might be able to simper and smile your way through disobedience and bad behavior with other Dominants, but that’s not how I operate.” She buttons her shirt with quick, efficient movements, removing herself from my line of sight. “Off the bed.”

One look at her face has the wicked thing inside me flaring to life. I want to push her, but that little lick of fear over what she might do has me climbing off the bed like an obedient little submissive. I’m not cowed, not exactly. But there is push and pull in any good scene. I know where Malone’s line is now. Throwing myself against it will just mean she continues to punish me, and she’s already proven that her punishments actually are unenjoyable.

I want the pleasure. More than that, I want her to think I’m cowed and obedient so she lets down her guard.



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