Nights Burn With Regret — by Nathan Perez 7
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Get on your knees and beg, princess
Violet
We didn’t even make it to the room properly.
The moment the door swung open, his lips were already on mine, Hot, and hungry. The kiss stole every ounce of breath from my lungs.
Strong hands caught my waist, pulling me into him like he couldn bear even an inch of space. I stumbled backwards, gasping, and looped my arms around his neck to steady myself.
My head spun.
God, what’s happening to me?
Everything felt dizzy. His touches were desperate, like he’d been starving for me, craving me with every inch of his body.
Why me? I thought wildly. Why did he want me? Who even is he, this man who didn’t flinch going against Matthew? Who booked the most exclusive penthouse in America like it was a motel room? Who makes me feel like my entire existence is vibrating beneath my skin?
I had so many questions. And yet, I didn’t want the answers.
His teeth grazed my lower lip and made me gasp. He took that gasp as an invitation, and the next second his tongue slipped into my mouth.
I moaned into the kiss, my mind completely gone.
His hand slid from my waist, moving up to cup my chin, tilting my lace, angling the kiss deeper, and messier.
I’d never been kissed like this in my four years with Matthew.
He wasn’t just good, he was an expert. He kissed like a man who had studied women, learned every hidden weakness, and memorized the exact pace to unravel them.
And God, I was unraveling.
My back hit a table. I gasped, and he didn’t stop, his hands now roaming, his lips never breaking from mine.
I tried to keep up with him, but I was lightheaded. Finally, he pulled back.
His chest was rising and falling hard, and so was mine.
His blue eyes were dark and locked on me like I was prey and he was just choosing how to devour me next.
I stared up at him, trembling, my lips swollen and damp.
He was still wearing the mask.
Why was he still wearing it? Was he ugly? I wasn’t the type to care about appearances, and besides, I doubted he was anything short of good-looking.
I reached up slowly, fingertips brushing the edges of it. He didn’t stop me, or say a word. In fact, his lips quirked into that lazy, wicked smirk again, as if he’d been waiting for this moment.
I kept my eyes on his, then carefully slid the mask down.
It fell to the floor, and I froze.
He was breathtaking.
Sharp cheekbones, and jawline, tousled black hair that fell over his forehead. His skin glowed under the low lighting, and when he smiled, his white teeth flashed. And those ocean-blue stirred something in me.
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dot on your knees and beg prncess
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“You-“I couldn’t stop myself. My hand reached up again, brushing along his jaw, transfixed.
“You look…” My voice came out as a whisper. “You look awfully familiar.”
His grin widened, and without warning, he slipped his arms around my thighs and lifted me up.
“Ah!” I gasped, hands flying to his shoulders.
He placed me down gently on the kitchen counter like I weighed nothing, his palms sliding along my waist.
His body slid between my legs, and my breath hitched. His nose nudged the back of my neck before his lips found my skin, pressing a kiss there that sent a shiver trailing down my spine.
“Does it matter where you’ve seen me before?”
He placed another kiss, this time lower, closer to my shoulder. My head tilted on instinct, exposing more of my neck, my eyes fluttering closed.
“Nnhg…” The sound escaped before I could swallow it.
He hummed against me, pleased. “All you have to do is relax and let me pleasure you, princess.”
After saying that, he sank to his knees in front of me.
The moment his eyes lifted to mine, my heart skipped a beat. There was something reverent in the way he looked up at me.
“Please…” I whispered, but I didn’t even know what I was begging for.
His rough hands caught my thighs, spreading them apart. My breath hitched, the boldness of it making my legs tremble. He leaned in and placed a kiss on my calf, he moved higher, kissing my leg until he reached the inside of my thigh.
His lips hovered dangerously close to where I was already throbbing for him. He glanced up at me again, watching my face as he pushed my dress up slowly, dragging the fabric until it gathered at my waist.
His eyes landed on my black panties. “Fuck, you’re dripping.” He dragged a finger right over the center, pressing gently where I was already aching, and I gasped, my legs jolting slightly from the jolt of pleasure.
“Let me guess,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “This pretty sight was meant for him?”
I froze.
My face flushed crimson, and I looked down, unable to hold his gaze. How did he know? Was I really that obvious?
I had worn them for Matthew.
We were supposed to go home together after the party. I thought maybe, he’d finally notice me again, touch me the way he used to. But now, a complete stranger was the one kneeling between my legs. Not Matthew.
Faith really had a twisted way of playing games.
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