King’s (The King Trilogy #1)(49)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Our mouths furiously licked and bit and sucked while I tried to angle the head of his c**k to my slick and ready entrance. I was already about to explode. One or two strokes and I’d be done.

Then a tiny thought flickered through my mind. No one called this office. Ever.

“Who was it?” I panted.

“No one.”

He rubbed the tip of himself over my sensitive bud and groaned again. “You feel so hot, so warm, so—”

“How can it be no one?” I again panted. My mind didn’t want to let it go despite what his hands were doing: Wetting the tip of his large shaft, paving the way for the hard thrust I expected him to deliver.

“No one,” he growled.

God, I need this so badly. So badly. Him inside me.

“I can tell you later,” he added. “After I punish you.”

I froze and looked into his eyes. The raw, primal expression could’ve been interpreted as lust or possession tinged with anger.

My mind scrambled through the situation and thoughts that conflicted with the physical demands screaming from my body. “Wait. What did you say?”

He smiled like a lusty wolf, unsure if it wanted to f**k its prey or eat it. It reminded me of that night in Edinburgh at the hotel. King had had the exact same look in his eyes. The effect was colder than any bucket of ice water.

“Oh my god.” I frantically began pushing his heavy frame off me. “Get off of me. Get off of me.”

He glared in silence and then slowly pulled back.

“Is this just some punishment?” I spat.

“Is there any other possible way to interpret this in your mind?”

Oh my god. Oh my god. I started to hyperventilate. “No. I-I guess not.”

I quickly pulled up the straps of my dress and hopped from the desk, turning my back to straighten myself out. I guessed he was doing the same.

“I can’t believe this,” I scorned myself, fumbling with the zipper at the back of my dress. “What was I thinking?”

Don’t cry, Mia. Don’t cry. But that’s what part of me wanted to do. How could I be so stupid? How could I forget who I was dealing with?

“I gave you specific instructions for the party, Mia. You disobeyed me.” King zipped up the back of my dress and rested his hands on my bare shoulders. The gesture was thoughtful and intimate, like a husband would do for his wife. How dare he?

“Don’t touch me.”

He spun me around and gazed into my eyes with a look of confusion. “Why are you so upset?”

“Just leave,” I fumed.

“It’s my office. And you owe me a punishment.”

What a strange reality he lived in. “You’re sick. You know that, don’t you?” I seethed with disgust.

“Yes, I do. And don’t ever think for a moment, Mia, that I won’t follow through on my threats. Or that I am capable of feeling anything for anyone.”

I lifted my chin, pride welding my words. “You’re lying to yourself, King. You feel lots of things: hate, disgust, the need to hurt others and make them suffer. What happened in your life to make you like this?”

He tilted his head, and I expected him to say something cruel, something to deflect my words and reestablish his power over me. Instead, he smiled affectionately and ran his thumb over my bottom lip. “The call was your brother.”

My heart stopped. “Huh?”

“Your brother. He has made a deal with me. That’s where I was earlier while you were making a f**king mess of things at the party.”

I blinked and tried to comprehend. “That was Justin on the phone?”

He nodded yes and waited with what looked like cautious curiosity for my reaction.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I screamed. “Why didn’t you let me speak to him?”

King ran his hands through his now disheveled, thick, black hair. He looked uncomfortable. King was uncomfortable. That never happened.

“Oh no. What? What aren’t you telling me?” I asked.

He turned away and went to recover his shirt and jacket from the floor.

“King! I’m talking to you.”

He calmly shrugged on his shirt, and as he did, I again noticed the sharp grooves of scar tissue on his back. Yes, something horrible had been done to this man to make him this way.

“What do you want to know? Your brother is alive.” He buttoned his shirt. “You should be pleased.”

“Where is he? What happened to him?” I asked.

King continued to button.

“Would you turn around and look at me?” I demanded.

King did, but the hard emotion in his eyes was not what I wanted to see. It frightened me.

He cleared his throat. “Your brother doesn’t wish to see you.”

I pointed to my chest. “Me?”

“Your brother offered me the Artifact in exchange for a clean slate.” King’s steely, cold eyes met mine. “He wants nothing to do with you, your family, or his past. He’s asking me for a new identity, money to live on, and a disappearing act so that anyone searching for him will believe he’s dead.”

King’s words crushed me. That couldn’t be right. “Why?”

“Your brother got mixed up with Vaughn. He offered Justin a sizeable payment plus unlimited funding for his work in exchange for a lifelong contract.”

“And Justin took the deal?” I couldn’t believe it. Justin had never been about money. Ever. He was the least greedy person I’d ever known.

King nodded. “Yes. In addition, Vaughn would get dibs on anything Justin unearthed.”

“Why would Justin do that?”

King approached me and placed his hands on my arms. “Justin did not know who he was aligning himself with. But once he found the Artifact and realized it was something powerful, he ran.”

“And Justin’s team? Why were they killed?”

“I’m sure it was Vaughn’s retribution.”

“Why would Vaughn’s men threaten me to stop looking for Justin?”

“I do not know. Maybe he didn’t want to risk Justin receiving help from friends or family members. It’s easier to track someone down when they have no resources.”

Wouldn’t Vaughn have had more luck taking me as leverage? King’s guess didn’t make sense, but then again, nothing in this strange world did.

“But Justin can’t be serious. He can’t really mean he never wants to see me again.” The tears began to trickle from my eyes.