That was what I was to Rafael despite his words about a King protecting his Queen, but it was also one of the few openings he’d taught me in the little time I’d known him. He grinned as if he could sense my realization, the knowledge that I would never win against him.
It was foolish to even try. Chess wasn’t a game that was mastered through beginner’s luck, but by studying the board and strategy relentlessly.
I watched him counter with his Sicilian Defense. “Who taught you to play?” I asked, making the effort to take his fixation off the game as I studied it intently and moved my own piece.
“My father,” he said. “Initially anyway. He didn’t appreciate it when I started winning, so I played with my uncle and cousins in the summers when I would visit them. Sebastian was a worthy opponent,” he said as we continued playing.
“Who did you play when you were home?” I asked, my nerves rising higher. I couldn’t distract him from the game, because he never paid any attention to it. He simply went through the motions as if he’d already won, and I knew it to be true.
I heaved out a sigh, glaring at the pieces as if they were to blame for my stupid wager. I might not have been free without it, but I wouldn’t be settled between his legs and trying to fight off the attraction I knew I shouldn’t feel as I gave him the one part of my body he wouldn’t dare to take by force.
He stared at my mouth as if he could already feel it wrapped around him, leaning forward and looking down at the board more fully for the first time. “No one regularly. Most men tire of losing fairly quickly.”
He moved his piece, turning his eyes up to mine with a grin. “Check.” I turned my eyes down to the board, finally realizing just how long he’d drawn out our previous games past what he could have done. His lack of focus on the game wasn’t because he didn’t want to play, but to give me the opportunity to think and learn.
Fuck.
I touched my hand to my bishop, watching as he pursed his lips. Taking my hand off the piece hastily, I reached for my Queen and moved her. He took it ruthlessly, announcing that if I’d had any doubt, the game was as good as done.
I moved, capturing a pawn in what seemed like the only move I could make. “Checkmate,” he said, not bothering to use his turn. With the space I’d vacated, I’d given him a clear line to my King as he toyed with me.
He stood partially, pushing his chair back from the little table between us and giving space in front of his body. With his legs spread, he leaned back and looked like the devil on a throne of sin. “A deal is a deal, mi princesa,” he murmured.
I stood on shaking legs, suppressing the desire to deny him what he’d been promised. Walking to the space in front of him, I swallowed back my anxiety as I stared down at him. With his knees to either side of my legs, I touched a hand to each arm of the chair and lowered myself to my knees in front of him. “Good girl,” he murmured, reaching out to stroke my cheekbone with his thumb.
I glared at him despite the nerves making my hands shake as I touched a hand to the belt buckle at his waist. His eyes dropped to the contact as I pulled the leather through. Unbuttoning his pants and tugging down the zipper on his pants came after, his eyes on mine as I stared up at him with a nervous glance.
I chewed the corner of my mouth and hesitated, unsure if I could really proceed. Already the thought of pulling his cock free from his pants made heat bloom between my legs. It was a perversion, a sick twist of my body turning against me in a way that shouldn’t have happened. There was nothing normal about desiring the man who’d kidnapped me.
It all came back to the part of me that should have never been set free. That part that should have stayed hidden beneath the surface until the day I died.
I considered not following through, backing away from him and letting him take it out on my pussy in the way I was sure he would. But setting the tone for our bets to not be followed through wouldn’t work to my advantage, and he’d make me enjoy whatever he did to me. Whether he used my mouth or my pussy should have been inconsequential.
I slid my hand inside his pants and reached into the boxer briefs that covered him and helped hide his bulge from innocent bystanders as he went about his day. He groaned as my palm wrapped around him, pulling him free from the layer of fabric until he hung free, heavy in my hand. I stroked him from his balls to the tip of his head while I held his eyes.
He reached out one of his hands, tangling it in the hair at the back of my head and pressing me down until his head brushed against my lips. I opened my mouth, letting him guide me down until the taste of him exploded in my senses. He slid over my tongue, releasing his grip at my head to grab the arms of the chair and leave me to do it
