Page 55 of Promise of Punishment

I’ll kill him. “Why?”

“He wasn’t you.”

I stiffen. “Who is it you think I am?”

“I know your mouth. I know your taste. I shouldn’t crave them, but I do.” Even though her words are a bit slurred, I liked hearing them, which pisses me off. That and how she recognized my mouth—while intoxicated. If only she knew who these lips belonged to.

“Why were you in here with three other men?”

Her chin dips. “To forget you. My Scotsman.” She lifts her face. “Or is it my Englishman?”

My accent. Shite. Even sloshed, my little angel stayed sharp while I forgot my ruse.

She brushes the line of my chin with her fingernail. “Which are you?”

“Both. Neither.”

“A Lord?”

How accurate you are. “What do you want, Fable?”

She looks at the entrance.

I touch her chin and turn her head back to me. In my normal English accent, I say, “Forget about who’s out there. Forget about what you were told or what you think you know. What do you want?”

She takes a moment to think, then says, “I want you to tie me up.”

I wasn’t expecting her to say that. I also wasn’t expecting to laugh.

“I’m glad I amuse you.” She straightens away and tries to step down again.

I catch her by the arm. “Wait. I’m not laughing at you. You’re drunk, or you wouldn’t have said that.”

“I’m tipsy, not drunk.” She jerks away and slips off the edge, landing on her feet, her knees buckling.

I grab her waist and help her to stand.

She shoves my hands away. “I’m fine.”

More of her famous I’m fine shit. “Fable.”

She stalks toward the exit, with me on her heel, but turns before leaving. “You know what really sucks? I never thought of doing anything like that before. I never thought I’d be brave enough to ask for it or want to do it. But I did with you. For some stupid reason, I trust you, and what a waste that was.”

She turns to leave again, but I stop her and have her against the wall in a heartbeat. I devour her lips and slide my tongue into her hot mouth, drawing in her sweet flavor. Jesus, she makes me hard. Her anger stoked a fire in me, but her words set me ablaze.

My dick feels as hard as steel and ready to explode. I rub it against her damp tights and hit her clit. She moans into my mouth, even as she kisses me like she’s been starved for this, proving how much she craves me.

I pin her wrists above her head. “You want restraints, or do you want my cock?” I ask, desperate to spread her apart and fill her with everything I have. “Restraints take time.”

She doesn’t hesitate to reply, “Cock. God. I need it.” She rocks her hips, rubbing her needy pussy against me.

In a move so fast it could be supernatural, I set her on her feet, rip her tights apart at the crotch, thank the Lord she’s not wearing underwear, and pin her against the wall again. Her legs wrap around my waist, and I thrust into her, hard and deep. We both moan. She’s soaked and incredibly tight. It’s maddening. I pump into her harder and faster, wishing I could see her tits bounce, but not enough to stop fucking her to rip her uniform. Her greedy pussy squeezes me tightly with each thrust as if unwilling to let me go. It’s heaven.

She calls out to God, then comes on my dick, clenching me with such force I come too.

Her breath races, her little body heaving, as I keep her against the wall, reluctant to let her go. I haven’t come that hard in a long time. I’ve never fucked anyone facing forward before. Chest to chest, lips to lips, mask to mask. Hers sits crookedly across her features, and some of her dark hair has slipped free from her wig again. My mask feels in place.

It hits me then, like a bolt from Zeus. I screwed Fable. My angel. With her consent, but without her knowledge of who I truly am.