Taken by the Kingpin

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by Winter Sloane


  If she had to be honest, it felt a little lonely, isolating even, living one day after another, trying to make enough to pay the bills, only for her father to screw up one way or another.

  Besides, instinct told her Carver wasn’t like Anatoli or the others. Oh, Yasmin would never forget he wasn’t a good man, but he hadn’t taken advantage of her in her sleep, didn’t take what he clearly wanted—and those hungry blue eyes told her he wanted her. She suppressed a shudder and looked the kingpin in the eye.

  “I’m a man of my word, and I can adapt to setbacks. Doesn’t matter if I set you free now, you’d eventually end up crawling back to me. This story has one ending, princess, with me owning all of you.”

  Carver said that with such certainty, it left her stunned for a few seconds. Her heart starting racing again. She gripped the sheets, well-aware nothing could stop him from ripping the sheets from her body, exposing her to his gaze. Yasmin knew those big hands would feel good against her soft skin, and that mouth—men like Carver didn’t kiss. He’d plunder and take.

  The dark and wild side of her wanted him to discard the mask of a gentleman and expose the beast underneath.

  Her breathing turned shallow. Being around him made her entire body hot, aroused, making it hard to think or make logical decisions. Not good signs but she’d willingly signed a contract with the devil by giving herself to him.

  “I’m not my father. I don’t go back on my word either,” she managed to whisper.

  Pride made her say those words, but Carver also intrigued her on so many levels. She’d agreed to stay to save her father initially, but it felt different now. She also wanted to know which direction this was heading.

  Would she regret refusing his offer? What did he have in store for her? Her mind worked furiously. Yesterday, he’d gone out of his way to interrupt Anatoli, which meant after all these years, he hadn’t forgotten her. It was silly, but the thought warmed her heart. In the words of one of her exes, Yasmin was forgettable, didn’t stand out. What did Carver see in her?

  “Good, but you haven’t answered my other question,” he told her.

  What did he ask? Whether she was happy? Another confusing question. “Who’s really happy these days?”

  He flashed her that enigmatic smile that might say nothing or everything. Yasmin was way out of her league with this man. Hell, maybe Carver hadn’t lied about releasing her, but she had a feeling he’d never make that offer again.

  “When was the last time you smiled, you found true joy in something?” he asked.

  “What are you, my therapist?” she demanded, sounding defensive. Yasmin sucked in a breath, aware it wasn’t wise, provoking him, but he didn’t look pissed.

  “It’s a simple question, angel.”

  “I—I can’t remember. For as long as I remember, I’ve struggled making ends meet, with my love life and my dad.” Why did she tell him that? They were complete strangers, but it was easy talking to him. He kept his full attention on her the entire time. He listened and didn’t make a move as his phone began to ring.

  “Then, I plan to change that. If you have no intentions of leaving, the shower’s that way. You’ll have to make do with borrowing some of my clothes. I expect you to join me for breakfast.” Carver stood up. His phone buzzed again.

  She stared at him, wondering if he realized how absurd he sounded. Did Carver really think they’d have some kind of civilized breakfast after everything that happened? His words sounded like a command as well, as if he didn’t expect her to refuse.

  “Fine,” she answered curtly.

  Yasmin stared at his broad back as he turned away from her and began walking towards the door, phone to his ear.

  Once he shut the door behind her, Yasmin collapsed back against the pillows.

  What had she just done?

  Chapter Four

  Carver ended his phone call just as the door to his room opened. He didn’t say anything, simply taking in the sight of her, wearing nothing but one of his shirts. The old white tee fell to her knees, looking oversized on her, but it did nothing to hide her tempting and curvy body or the swell of her generously-proportioned breasts.

  While she slept, he’d imagined putting his mouth to her nipple, closing his teeth on it and biting down. Fuck, he fantasized plenty of filthy things he wanted to do to her, but he held himself back. His angel deserved better, and they needed to talk. Carver might be the most feared man in the city, but he didn’t take a woman against her will when compliance was so much sweeter.

  Yasmin walked right towards the full floor-to-ceiling windows, gazed outwards, and gasped. Carver walked up behind her. Once his chest brushed against the curve of her back, she tensed, relaxing a little when he did nothing but trace his fingers across her arm.

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  “I can see the entire city from here. I didn’t realize we were so high up. Where are we?”

  “Taurus Tower. I own this building,” he answered simply.

  Carver could give her the entire world if she wanted. All she needed to do was ask. Yasmin didn’t understand the kind of power she wielded, or the sway she had over him. Having her here, in his apartment, cemented the fact he wanted to keep her forever. Carver could imagine waking up next to her in the morning, his body draped against hers, his dick sheathed inside her slick folds. He could see himself walking alongside her as they strolled across one of the city’s many parks.

  Carver wanted to see her smile, hear her laughter. When he asked her if she was happy, she had no answers for him. He understood. Guy, the man he’d sent to escort Larry back home, updated him about their living conditions. While she showered, Guy appeared at his doorstep, bringing one small duffel bag, which held everything she owned.

  They still had a long way to go before she even showed him a shred of trust, but Carver could be patient. She was worth more than anything he owned, or the empire he’d struggled to build.

  As a monster that lived in darkness for so long, he’d never seen a glimpse of light until her.

  “Of course you do,” she said, not stopping or pushing him away when he put aside her hair to press his nose against the nape of her neck. She shuddered, leaning in closer to his embrace. His erection dug against the zipper of his jeans. Carver clenched his jaw.

  God, but she smelled good. Enticing, especially knowing she used the same soap he did. Yasmin looked amazing in his shirt, too. Possessiveness flared up inside of him, overriding any other emotion. It would be so easy to take her against the window and slide his dick into her cunt. He bet she’d be soaking wet for him, that if he ran his knuckles across her nipples, they’d be hard points.

  All Carver needed to do was slide his hand up her thigh, past her shirt and gain access to what he’d soon own.

  Breathing hard, he pulled away in case he did something he’d regret.

  She turned towards him, a look of puzzlement on her face.

  “Breakfast,” was all he managed to say, gesturing to the offerings in the kitchen. He had Guy stop at his favorite diner in the city along the way.

  “You confuse me the hell out of me,” she said, joining him on one of the stools facing the kitchen counter.

  “Why?” He didn’t know what she liked, so he’d ordered everything. Carver set out the waffles, bacon, and coffees.

  She grabbed the coffee, brushing her fingers across his inked ones, and blushed before taking a sip.

  Endearing as fuck.

  “Just now, I thought you’d—” Yasmin faltered, took a longer sip. “Even back in your bedroom, when I first woke up. You left me untouched. Okay, that kind of sounded lame, but you get my point.”

  “The last thing I want is for you to resent me. Besides, I know the outcome. Sooner or later, you’ll be begging for my touch, my dick.”

  Color spread to her cheeks and neck.

  “Cocky bastard,” she whispered. “Do you think I’ll give in so easily to you?”

  “I know you will, angel. M

ost women are terrified of me. Oh, they’re curious about bedding the kingpin, but deep down? They’re in it for the thrill. They pretend to like the things I do to them in the bedroom, but you? You couldn’t hide what you were from me yesterday.”

  “What I am?”

  “I know what you desire.”

  She broke eye contact and began bringing out the rest of the food from the brown paper bags. “Are you always this crass?”

  In her haste, she knocked over her coffee cup. He grabbed her hand before the hot brown liquid hurt her.

  She widened her eyes and tilted her head to look at him, reminding him of a deer caught in the headlights. An illusion. Carver knew steel existed in her spine. Larry McDowell might be a coward, a miserable excuse of a man, but his daughter? Yasmin was a fucking queen in her own right.

  Few individuals possessed the courage to stare down the kingpin and offer themselves selflessly to save a loved one. He’d seen plenty of men and women cave, selling their own souls, their blood, for survival’s sake.

  He lifted her fingers to his mouth and kissed each one. Hunger moved inside of him like a living storm. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he tugged her close until his chest pressed up against her breasts. She spread her fingers across his chest but didn’t step back, didn’t protest. If she did, he’d stop, reconsider his strategy.

  Carver planted his hand over the back of her neck, holding her in place as he finally took her lips. He sucked and nipped on her lower lip, the moment made a thousand times sweeter when she responded. Like he predicted, she yielded to him and gave him her all, even parting her lips so he could thrust his tongue down her throat.

  He pushed his other hand past the hem of her shirt, nearly driven mad at the realization she didn’t wear any underwear underneath. Not yet, he cautioned himself, moving his hand upwards to give one of her breasts a squeeze. She rubbed herself against him, a moan spilling out as he released her mouth.

  Carver gave her nipple a pinch. Her pupils dilated, and her lips looked swollen from his kiss. Perfect.

  He rubbed her tits and slid his hand lower, running his fingers over her mound, tugging at the pubic hair, and to his approval, she parted her legs, giving him more access.

  “Beautiful girl, I want to see you get yourself off on my hand.”

  She flushed red, but before her embarrassment made her pull away from him, he rubbed at her pussy lips and continued. “Does that feel good?”

  “Yes.” She rocked her hips back and forth. “I like it when you give me commands, but I’m terrified at the same time.”

  “You have nothing to fear from me, angel. The last thing I’ll do is hurt you.” He lifted his hand to his lips, still slicked from her juices, and licked at it. “Mmm, better than honey.”

  If possible, she turned even redder. Yasmin didn’t protest when he lifted the hem of her shirt.

  “Raise your hands,” he ordered, pleased she did as he asked, and he peeled the fabric off her. His shirt might look good on her, but naked, she was splendid. He silently devoured her creamy skin, her tempting curves, the swell of her generously-sized breasts.

  “Do you look at all women you have over like that?” she asked as he placed a hand on her hip and brought her close to him.

  Bare flesh kissed fabric. He knew with certainty that she was now his for the taking, that she’d submit to him beautifully, judging by her body’s reaction. Carver’s dick thickened, pressing up painfully against the zipper of his jeans. Not yet, he told himself.

  He placed an arm over her waist and ran it lower, down the curve of her back to the globes of her ass. She shuddered against him, parting her thighs once more when he used his other hand to start stroking her cunt again. Yasmin gasped, eyes wide, when he slid two fingers into her tight heat.

  A moan slipped from her lips, and he couldn’t help it. Carver sealed his lips over hers again.

  “God,” she whispered when he pulled away.

  She panted, rubbed her chest against him, and moved her hips as he pumped his fingers in and out of her hole. Carver groaned, wanting to free his erection from his pants. At this rate, his control would unravel and he’d flip her on her hands and knees and rut her like a beast. The scary thing was—he didn’t think she’d mind.

  She’d welcome his roughness just as she’d stared into the darkness inside of him ten years ago and never once flinched. Dangerous woman. A temptress with the face of an angel, but he needed to establish Yasmin was his. Whatever Carver set his sights on, he went after it, and she was the elusive treasure he’d been waiting for his entire life.

  Yasmin didn’t know it yet, but she was never walking out of here before becoming his.

  Chapter Five

  What am I doing? Will I really let this stranger, this gorgeous, scarred and broken kingpin, take me in his kitchen?

  Yasmin didn’t put up any resistance, never wanted to. Ever since he kissed her fingers, introducing her to his firm and proprietary touches, she was gone. That made her worse than him, didn’t it? Wanting the man who wouldn’t blink as his flunky hurt or ended the life of her father. Not that Larry won any father of the year award anytime soon.

  “You’re distracted. Means I’m doing something wrong. Angel, I want your sole attention on me,” Carver said in disapproval, using those wickedly talented fingers of his to rub at her clit. She moaned and would have been unable to maintain her balance if not for his firm hand on her ass.

  “Don’t be afraid, angel.” Carver stopped and released her, making her groan in frustration. One moment, he had her hot and bothered, and now, he wanted a conversation? God, but he was maddening.

  “I’m not scared,” she stated.

  Carver pressed her up against the kitchen wall, lifted her hands up over her head, and kept them there. An illusion of restraint, because as ridiculous as it sounded, she believed his promise. Carver would never hurt her unless she asked. If she told him to stop, he would in a heartbeat. Her pulse spiked. Her skin felt hot, stretched tightly over her bones. She looked right into his face, aware he rocked a massive boner for her.

  “You are. You’re terrified of yielding to me, but don’t worry. I know you’ll bend, but never break.”

  Yasmin didn’t know why his words made her shiver. If was as if he could peel away all the fortress walls she put up over her heart to hide her secret self and look right at her. He was right. She’d let him take her here and now, fuck her against the wall and beg him for more. Yasmin felt like a stranger in her own body, like it had a will of its own, and she didn’t care.

  She blurted the first words in her head. “Kiss me.”

  He granted her wish and closed his firm lips over hers. She loved it, the possessive way he devoured her mouth as if he wanted to show her preview of how he’d fuck her. He put one leg between her legs, and she rubbed her pussy against the denim of his jeans. Don’t be ashamed of your desires, he told her. No judgment here. She’d do just that, because with him, she felt like she no longer needed to hide for fear of rejection.

  Carver broke from the kiss, only to plant more down the side of her neck. He used a little bit of teeth, leaving a trail of small, pinkish bites. Moisture flooded between her legs. She’d probably leave a mark on his pants, but he didn’t seem to care.

  “Shirt,” she said, slightly out of breath as he traced her left nipple with his tongue. “Please. I want to see you naked, too.”

  Carver released her hands, smirked, and raised his. She couldn’t help it. Giggling, she peeled off his shirt, unveiling rock-hard muscle inked in black. Seeing the artwork on him took her breath away. Yasmin couldn’t believe they were really doing this, but then, when was the last time she’d done anything wild in her entire life? Taking initiative, she undid the button of his jeans and unzipped him, widening her eyes as she pulled out his impressive shaft.

  He smiled, showing teeth. “Daunted?”

  Yasmin shook her head. Curiosity made her trace every vein, bump, and ridge with her fingers. He gro
aned, closing his fingers over hers, guiding her.

  “Curl your fingers over my dick,” he instructed, gaze intense again. “Tell me, angel. How many men have you been with?”

  She didn’t miss the surge of jealousy in his voice as she began to work him, stroking him from tip to root.

  “Three, but all my exes made sex seem like it’s nothing special.” She focused on her task, not wanting to speak about her failed relationships, but Carver took her by surprise and gave her a slow kiss, nibbling on her bottom lip as he pulled away.

  “They hurt you.” He made it sound like a statement, not a question.

  “That’s a risk everyone takes.” She tried to sound casual, but bitterness accompanied her words. All her exes had taken vital chunks of her heart when they left, making her unable to trust anyone easily again.

  “Everyone isn’t you. Tell me their names, angel,” he whispered against his ear, voice a deadly caress. “And I’ll make sure they never draw breath again.”

  She halted, speechless. Yasmin believed him, yet his words reminded her she was in his world now, and the kingpin could snuff out lives as easily as blowing out a candle’s flickering flame.

  “Angel,” he said, taking her wrist. She didn’t realize her fingers had started to tremble. “This entire city fears me. The last person I want to see with that horrified look is you.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just, I’m feeling way over my head.”

  Carver kissed her fingers. “Even if the entire world becomes your enemy, I’ll fight them for you. You’re everything to me, angel, and you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this, for you.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Ever since we met in that dirty alleyway, it’s always been you.” Carver slipped a hand between her legs again, plundering her mouth, and Yasmin ceased thinking. The press of his hard body against her soft curves, the way he held her firm, it was so addictive, feeling wanted and wanting him.

 
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