Dirty Wicked Prince (Court Legacy Book 1)

Dorian

I slammed my cock inside her the moment we were in her bedroom, the closet place I could think of to fuck this girl.

She hadn’t complained.

Sloane proved once again to be the complete and utter head fuck she’d always been, but this time, I didn’t fight it.

I just dove right in.

I roared at her taste, not even bothering to keep it down. Bru’s car hadn’t been in the garage, and Sloane said he’d probably gone to get takeout or something.

Her shorts had been down to her ankles barely after getting into the house.

Currently, her cutoffs hung off one leg, this girl between my arms against her bedroom door. I fucked her right there, our hands laced, our mouths hot and our tongues dueling. I thrust in a slow fuck, and she called out.

Her brother was going to hear this shit when he got home.

I didn’t care. Pulling out, I turned her around by her hair. I jerked off her fucking shirt, then ripped her bra clean off.

She was grinning when she faced me, her tits flushed and perfect for my hands. She wrapped one of those long legs around me, and in a quick maneuver, she was physically putting me back inside her. What the fuck?

“Fuck me, Dorian,” she said, eye contact completely on me, and it was a wonder I didn’t come like this was my first goddamn time. Noa Sloane was an experience.

I gripped her throat, slowing down on purpose. She didn’t control this. I was going to fuck this girl as long and as hard as I wanted to. She wouldn’t control this.

Even if she already was.

“I own you.” I arched in a hard thrust, my cock disappearing inside her. Hard in. Slow out. I watched, then made her when I gripped her hair in my fist and directed her gaze down. I grinned. “That’s me owning you. That’s my dick you scream for.”

She made me fucking mad tonight, doing things I was embarrassed I hadn’t thought to do first. She’d made me look like a punk bitch at Mayberry’s old place.

And if I didn’t want to make her come for that.

If I didn’t want to bleed for her after that, the sickest fucking thoughts in my head. I wanted her everywhere, inside her and all around. I didn’t want to just own her. I wanted to be owned by her, and I fucking hated that shit.

Like stated, she was a head fuck.

I dizzied as she bit my lip, and almost buckled at my goddamn knees for it. I held her back by the throat. “Stop.”

So much was loaded in that one word, her eyes on me. Her hips rocked slowly, her hands on my chest.

“Don’t stop,” she said, eyes scanning me. She looked deeply, like she was looking for something when there wasn’t anything to see. I’d told this girl. I had no soul anymore. She placed her hands on my face. “Don’t stop. Stay.”

Stay.

She slow-fucked me right back, her tight snatch squeezing my cock so hard I nearly did come. Growling, I braced her neck and collided our mouths.

“Get out of my head,” I panted, removing her off me and taking her to the bed. She had all this frilly shit around, totally not Noa Sloane.

Why are you talking like you know her?

But this wasn’t Noa. The place had to have been decorated. Noa was a hellcat, dark metals and rough edges in my thoughts for her. She wasn’t into the easy stuff. She liked seeing through stuff for its depth and whatever else was in there. She liked to unravel and unfurl shit she had no business getting into.

I’d told her all my business tonight and hadn’t even hesitated. Wolf had known exactly what he was doing when he called her to come see me.

She was making me do stupid things.

She was making things not hurt as much and my guilt surrounding Charlie numbed. I didn’t feel like I had only hours ago. But even before that, I wasn’t rattled by the brevity of what I’d done this week in nearly the same way.

That happened in only a few moments with her. Noa was making things go away. My own personal Valium.

Going between her legs, I drank from her heat, my tongue spreading her pussy lips apart. She kicked a leg until we both got her shorts off, her thighs hugging my face to her sex.

“Dorian, holy fuck.” She bit her knuckles, her soft pants amplified in the quiet house. I could fuck her as loud as I wanted to in this room. Shit, the astronauts would hear us.

Grinning, I bit her lower lips into my mouth, salivating when she called out and her sweet heat flooded over my lips. I didn’t even like eating pussy. I’d get my dick sucked any day of the week, though. What could I say, I was a dude.

But Noa…

She tasted like candy, all sin and heaven. She touched herself while I flicked her bud with heated intent. Her perfect tits spilled above her hands.

Yeah, those were my thing.

Leaving her pussy, I laved her nipples, sucking and pulling them. My jeans were half down and my cock was ready for another dive into her heat. I physically ached for her, twitching under my fist as I pumped myself.

“Get naked with me.” She rolled my shirt off, looking like a kid in a candy store. I pulled my hair back, flashing her the eyes after she removed it. She shoved me. I assumed for being arrogant. She rolled her eyes. “Stop it.”

“You fucking stop.” We argued as good as we fucked.

Maybe even better.

After kicking off my jeans and my boxers, I took her lips. I entered her again. It was like being home inside this chick and what the fuck.

“Dorian,” she gasped, gripping my back. “God, Dorian.”

She placed her forehead against my shoulder, her soft skin damp with heat. I gripped the bed while still inside her, driving her into the sheets.

“Scream for me,” I goaded, arching, taking us both to our brink. “Come for me like you’re only mine.”

I could dick punch myself for it. Upon letting go of the bed, our fingers laced and not even a breath could be placed between us now. I owned her in this moment. She was mine.

“Dorian!” I picked up, hoping the condom I put on when we first got in her room would hold. I grunted, roaring into the room when she came around me…

And I wasn’t far behind.

Even still, I milked her, lost in the intense fucking heat that was Noa Sloane. We came down the high at about the same time, but even still, I didn’t let her get out from under me.

I tasted every inch of her, until it wasn’t possible that I’d missed anywhere. Eventually, I had her on her belly, beautiful, luscious skin facing me.

I traced invisible lines between every taste, studying how her dark almost black hair played against her naturally tan skin. This girl made Brazilian models look like amateurs, and I wondered if she maybe had some of that in her bloodline somewhere. Her brother wasn’t tan for shit, but Sloane obviously caught something somewhere in her gene pool. The girl was gorgeous.

And you’re acting like a fool.

I knew this as I was tracing invisible lines on her back between kisses. I stayed on one when she sighed and her entire body shuddered under my touch. She angled her head, looking back at me.

I watched her but didn’t stop playing. I watched her watch me, her gaze roving over my shoulders, my chest. Knowing her, I thought she’d send me to my back and attempt to be the little fighter I knew she was by straddling me.

Instead, she touched my hand, the free hand. Taking it, she tucked herself back into my chest. She hugged me close.

“It was a home break-in,” she said, her voice so soft in this room. She nestled into me. “My mom. She died in a home break-in. I barely remember. I was so young.”

I lay with her, feeling her steady breaths under my arms. I wondered why she admitted that to me.

But then again, I was tracing lines on her back.

In the moment after her words, things got real quiet. Normally, I’d leave right about now. I got what I wanted from her.

“Charlie’s death was my fault,” I said, not sure why I said it. Maybe because she’d admitted what she had to me. I shrugged. “I told him Principal Mayberry hadn’t left her husband. He went to her house after that. Went to run off with her after that.”

Nothing but silence filled the air, and I didn’t know what I expected her to say. Maybe all the things that were in my own head. How it was my fault, how it was my failure. Sloane didn’t hold back.

I hoped she wouldn’t in this case. I wanted her to give it to me good. I wanted to feel the cut of the words.

I deserved them.

“I think you already know the truth, Prinze,” she said, her voice sleepy. She hugged me closer. “But now, you need to make Mayberry tell it.”

I was surprised by what she said, listening.

“The world needs to know the truth,” she continued, playing with my hand. “And you do too. You deserve that.”

I deserve it.

She said nothing else, and I watched as her breaths softened and her eyes fell closed. She was under the belief that I had no stake in what happened, but I knew the truth. I supposed we were both fools. I was for letting her get under my skin.

And she was for allowing a monster into her bed.