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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“Speaking of family, let’s not introduce me to yours too soon.”

“You aren't ready?” He gives my arm a reassuring squeeze. Hell, no dangles from my tongue, but I bite my bottom lip and jerk a shoulder.

“Lux . . .”

An unspoken discussion settles between us. My brows lift.

“I, uh, promise you’ll experience everything my land has to offer.”

I settle into his lap, nudging his neck and inhaling him.

“Luxury.”

I offer a snore.

“You’re not asleep.”

“You’re not a man who isn’t sure of himself. Remember when I mocked you at first sight?”

“Well, yes.” He runs circles over my lower back, and I pull away from him.

“You’re a Doberman, Vic. Why so reluctant all of a sudden?”

“I’ve billions, Luxury.”

“Billions of what?”

“Look around you, Little One.” He flicks his gaze to the Tudor embossed into the leather.

“Billions of dollars,” I mumble. Holy . . .

“Euros. More of an accurate depiction, really.”

“More accurate?”

“Our money’s bigger than yours.”

“That was funny,” I murmur contemplative.

“I tried.” A massive shoulder lifts. “There’s another thing . . .”

I groan into his neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent while strong arms protect me from long-dormant secrets. “No, thank you, Vic. Let me sleep off your first revelation.”

“Here’s the other; I’ve a duchy, Little One. I . . .am . . . a duke,” he concludes in the noble tone he often assumes.

Eyes peeling open, I let a lazy, pathetic chuckle draw out of me. “Listen, I’m wrapping my mind around you being a killer. Funny story, the same smutty book shared how most royalty—dukes, marquesses, and such—are penniless.”

“That would be correct.”

“Alright, so stop trying to break the ice, Vic. I get it. Murder has its benefits, thus the private jet.”

“Well, yes,” he agrees.

I marvel in the faintest of lines near his eyes, pressing my lips there. “Thanks for keeping me safe, Vic. While I sleep, fine-tune your jokes. Better yet, leave that for people who actually enjoy smiling, which you rarely do. Good night.”

14

Victor

No one has ever dared laugh at me. Not as nobility, not even as a secret assassin on assignment for X-Member.

Not till today.

A bright-eyed, fully relaxed, Luxury tosses her head back, curly hair falling in cascades around her. We’ve traded the Learjet for the backseat of a private vehicle, and she commands the entire spacious area, attempting to cover her chuckles with a hand.

“Lux.” My eyes take in each and every inch of the breathtaking woman.

Bubbly.

Happy.

Youthful.

“We must discuss what I revealed before your slumber.”

A giggle bubbles from her mouth.

“You can’t have a laugh at my expense, Little One.” I reach over, claim a slender, curved thigh, and scoot her closer. I’d give away half my fortune to freeze this moment in time, to always keep her fully and utterly content.

Don’t ruin her.

Not like Maddy.

Not like . . .

I turn, pushing a knee between her legs, and lay one hand along the headrest over her shoulders. My gorgeous woman’s trapped beneath my calculating touch.

“For the record, I wasn’t laughing at your expense, like someone I know. That was the chuckle of a woman who’s no longer all there. You’re a noble, my ass.” She peeks around my head, glances at Burt and the chauffeur, then back at me.

“I want you,” I say.

“A king—”

“I’m not a bloody king.”

“A royal would take.” Challenge alights her gaze, although her cheeks warm as my hand glides across her thigh. The new, navy-blue dress suit offers ample access, but the chit’s torn between desire and apprehension. Luxury places her tiny hand over mine, stopping my quest. Instead of pushing me away, she moves my hands closer to that silky, hot spot between her inner thighs, mouthing, “Be quiet.”

I grow hard imagining the sweet taste of her.

Twinkling brown eyes again snap toward the front then to me. I quickly take off my jacket, shielding us, and become reacquainted with her luscious thighs. I twine my fingers against the lace of her panties.

Luxury’s lips tug through her teeth. A subtle yet silenced moan motivates my fingers to plunge inside of her.

“Mmmm, Vic,” she says against my neck. “God, I love this but . . . this is bad.”

“Is it now?” With a sly grin, I remove my fingers from beneath my jacket and lick them one at a time.

Luxury bites my neck. “You enjoy my pain, don’t you?”

“Absolutely,” I reply, planting my knees on the floor of the vehicle, facing her. “Albeit, you’re permitted not to scream this time.”

Stifling her own laughter, Luxury opens her legs to capture my hips and murmurs, “I know of a more accommodating position, but just—”

“You’re welcome,” I say with a sarcastic tone. Luxury meant her straddling me as I sat. However, she’d have been overcome with paranoia in that instance. I lock her between me with my hands clamped onto the headrest on either side of her.

With amusement in my eyes, I inquire, “Need something to bite down on?”


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