Page 13 of One Rule
Only for her. I’d do anything she asks.
Sitting back, I narrow my eyes. “The offer still sits, Armas. Want to test it?”
He raises a brow. A challenge I will make him eat one day. “I could call my sister in here.”
“And I’d kick your ass the second she steps outside this room.”
Throwing his head back, my best friend laughs. It’s loud and obnoxious with a snort or two mixed in—it’s something he has in common with Liliana—but on her, I find the action adorable. Everything she does is nothing short of perfection. “If anyone else held the kind of obsession you have for her, I’d have them strung up by their balls while they watched me saw their dick off. Might even make them eat it afterward.”
“But I’m not just anyone and you know it.”
“I do.” The earlier amusement dies, and in front of me now sits the groomed politician he was brought up to be. His father wanted him to follow in his footsteps. To start local and then state before making a bid for the White House. Yet what they all fail to see is a man who’s ruthless—he’s no one’s puppet—and it’s one of the reasons our friendship has lasted this long. We’d kill for those we love. Pushing his black hair back, Lionel’s brown eyes, a few shades darker than his sister’s, stare back. “It’s why I’ve never forbidden this relationship. You’ll be good for and to her.”
“Her happiness is all that matters to me.” At my words, he nods and opens his mouth to add something, which I find irrelevant—I continue before he can. “I’ve always respected her and our friendship. Up to a certain point I’ve been patient and understanding, but never mistake my affection for her as any form of compliance. I don’t need your consent, Lionel, but appreciate it nonetheless because it’ll make her happy to know you approve.”
“You’re an arrogant bastard, Royce, but that’s why you have it. No one will protect and love her as you will.”
“I’d also kill anyone that’d try.”
“Speaking of killing…what happened on your ship?” There’s a knock on the door seconds after his question, cutting our conversation short while the person on the other end doesn’t wait for me to let them in. The door opens and my reason for breathing peaks her head in, long, dark waves sweeping across one shoulder while giving her brother a small grin.
Liliana steps inside with a tray full of pastries and another indulgent concoction, steam billowing from the top of the ceramic cup. Because she always makes him tea. Lionel, unlike his sister, has never been a fan of coffee, yet he does indulge in steeped leaves and dried fruit.
“I won’t apologize for interrupting…” Liliana trails off, placing a silver tray down right on top of a manila folder with a partnership proposal from a local farming company. They’re offering me a substantial discount compared to that of my current supplier while guaranteeing the same quality—fresh produce and fruits to cover every meal and snack we provide our guests.
Food is one of the biggest expenses for any cruise line, rivaled closely by alcohol.
“Sister.”
“Big brother,” she mimics his deep tone, lip twitching while I shift my eyes from her to the folder. My raised brow makes her smile just a little wider, straight white teeth embedded into her bottom lip to hold in a laugh.Naughty girl.The move was on purpose, but before I can admonish her, she’s waving a hand between us. “I’m not interested in whatever this is, but Dahlia from human resources brought these as a gift for me. Her sister opened a shop inside Bayside Marketplace, and she wants me to give them a try. You know how much I love my pastelitos with guava and cream cheese.”
“You could eat a box of those turnovers by yourself,” Lionel snorts under his breath, shaking his head at her. More so when he goes to grab one, and his sister snatches it before he can. “Not nice, kid. I thought those were for us?”
“Says who? I’m sharing everythingbutthose.” The perplexed look on her face is genuine and I can’t stop the laugh that burst from me, causing the siblings to tilt their heads to the side simultaneously. One grumbling, while the other—the one that matters—rolls her eyes as if to say,can you believe him?
Motherfuck, I just want to bite her. Eat her.
From her pouty cherry lips down to that perky set of tits, then down to the sweetness between her luscious thighs, my teeth ache—my mouth waters from need. Just like my cock throbs beneath the cover of my ebony desk, pulsing in time with each rise and fall of her chest. Each jerk is bordering on painful pleasure, flesh digging into the teeth of my zipper while beads of pre-come slip from the swollen tip.
I’ve counted more than eight now. I feel each one as it rolls down the underside, teasing my skin with a soft caress that I imagine to be her tongue.
I’m torturing myself, but don’t break.
Not yet.
I’ll reap my reward soon enough.
Instead, I pick up my cup and take a large sip, letting the overly-sweet concoction pull my attention away from the urge to ram my cock inside one of her tiny holes. Mouth, pussy, or ass…it doesn’t matter which one, just being in her presence is near maddening, but the cloying aftertaste that lingers does enough that I appear normal to her.
Then again, my little Liliana doesn’t know me any other way.
Not the killer. Not the asshole with a short temper.
Forcing the next swallow, I place the ceramic cup down. “Can I have one, rebel?”
“One what?” There’s a small hitch in her breath while those hazel eyes stare at my mouth.
“A guava and cream cheese turnover.” My tone comes out gruffer than I intend, yet it has a delicious effect on her. At once, a touch of pink sweeps across the apple of her cheeks while goosebumps rise across her flesh. Then, there’s a small shiver she tries hard to suppress and fails at doing so.