There was a bottle of gin back there that was just sparkling water.
Lucky me… because with the way Annie looked, I could really use a drink.
Izzy waved her over, gave her a wink, and I felt her pull away from me.
“Not a chance,” I hissed. “Or have you forgotten?” I snickered in her ear. “I licked you—you’re mine.”
“You asshole!” Annie jerked away from me, tears filled her eyes, and then they narrowed in on me, really saw me.
I met her stare with one of my own.
People were watching me.
They always did.
Even if this was about Junior and Serena’s engagement—I was the assassin, I was the one they wanted; arrogant, weak.
So I grabbed another glass of champagne and downed it while holding Annie captive, her large blue eyes calculating in a way I’d never seen before.
She was either going to knee me in the junk or knee me in the junk.
So I taunted her more.
Because I was sick.
Because sometimes I craved her tears the way I craved her touch.
Tears meant she was still fighting.
They meant she still cared.
They meant I was something.
And I realized in that moment.
Claire had never cried over me.
Not fucking once.
She’d gotten angry.
But she’d always gone along with everything I did.
And if she was upset, she’d suggest another option.
She didn’t fight me.
She didn’t fight for me.
She didn’t fight for us.
Fuck.
“Ash…” Annie moved to cup my face. I purposely jerked away and dropped the glass to the floor.
Annie jumped back.
I slumped forward like I was already drunk and whispered gruffly, taking her face between my thumb and forefinger. “Dance with me.”
“There’s no way you’re drunk,” she hissed.
“How would you know? You’ve made it your job to ignore me all day, right? I make you com—”
She shoved at my chest then cupped a hand over my mouth; I bit each fingertip, God she tasted good.
I was drunk for sure.
On her.
I leaned into her even more, my body practically wrapping itself around hers. “What if I’ve been drinking since I drank you? What if I was pissed that your taste left my lips? Jealous of yours?”
Her cheeks burned red.
“I fucking love your taste, Annie. Tell you what. Let’s do a little test; you only eat and drink what I fucking tell you—and then, I feast.” I let go of her chin. “On you. It can be a… guessing game?”
Annie looked from left to right. “What are you doing?”
“You.” I shrugged. “If you don’t run away, then again, I did like watching you try last night…”
“Start counting, and I swear on all that’s holy—”
“One.” I winked. “Two.” I jerked her against my chest and then pulled her roughly toward the dance floor, moving my body against hers, flipping her back, so her ass was pressed against every hard inch of me.
She let out a gasp.
I felt that gasp in my fingertips as they held firm beneath her breasts, keeping her steady, and I felt it in my soul as the rush of air left her mouth.
We were gaining more and more attention.
Good.
I flipped her around, dipped her, and then slid my hand up her thigh until I gripped bare ass cheek. I kept my face impassive, but I was dying inside. “No underwear?”
“I forgot?”
“Sure, you did.” I chuckled against her neck, then pulled her to her feet and twirled her again. “Just like I forgot mine.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Huh?”
“Too many clothes between us.” I gripped her body tight against mine as we moved in sync. “Always too many.” At her light sigh of exasperation, I looked over her head and saw several faces that were familiar and two that were not.
Security?
We hadn’t hired outside security.
Annie shoved hard at my chest when I wasn’t paying attention; her clutch went flying across the dance floor. Her phone tumbled out.
I reached down to grab the phone before someone stepped on it while she grabbed her purse.
And I saw a text from my dad.
Chase: I can move you into Phoenix’s house tonight. Is that good for you?
“Fuck. No.” I typed back before I could think otherwise, and then I completely broke character or maybe just lost my mind as I reached for Annie and tossed her over my shoulder, phone still in hand.
We moved through a crowd of people.
I was losing my shit.
She couldn’t go.
She couldn’t.
Music flooded the bathroom hall as I kicked the door open. “OUT!”
The few men that were in there washing their hands ran.
I set her down and very slowly turned the lock in place on the door. “Explain this.”
I waved the phone between us.
“Give that back.” She glared.
“No,” I barked. “Not until you tell me why!”
“You don’t deserve to know!” she screamed. “You’re a horrible human being who plays with people’s emotions, their hearts, you get them to trust you, to love you, and then you just, you just—” Her chest heaved.
And I completely fucking lost it.
I charged, picking her up over my shoulder again and slamming our bodies against the brick wall next to the sinks. Her legs wrapped around me to hold on.
“How?”
“How what?” A tear slid down her cheek.
“How did I get a perfect creature like you—to possibly love me?”
She shook her head and then turned it to the side so I couldn’t see her eyes, pissing me the hell off, and just when I didn’t think she was going to answer, she spoke in a clear, soft voice. “Lonely recognizes lonely, sad recognizes sad, desolate recognizes desolate… Lost.” Her eyes met mine then. “Recognizes lost.”
My mouth collided with hers in an angry force of teeth and pain as I stole kiss after kiss from her.
From this perfect girl.
With hair she probably cut just to piss me off.
With a body she hid from others because of the pain only I knew too well.
Her bruises had been on the outside, from the monster who had adopted her.
My bruises were on the inside, from the monster who commanded me—demanded blood—needed the war.
After all, a King isn’t at peace unless he’s fighting for it.
And I’d been fighting ever since Claire died.
And now?
Now I was tasting it.
Touching it.
My hands gripped her ass; I was so hard I couldn’t think straight, didn’t want to think, didn’t want to plan, beyond this—beyond us.
“I had you once,” I said against her mouth. “And I left you.”
“Ash.” Her lips parted as I kissed a trail down her neck, between the valley of her breasts. “You’re still…” I sucked one of her hard nipples through the material of her dress, wetting it with my tongue, flicking it, then sucking again.
“I’m still what?” I chuckled darkly.
“Literally the devil.”
I pulled back and slowly pressed her harder against the wall, gripped her chin with my hand, eyes locked. I nuzzled her neck and whispered. “Care to sin?”
When she gasped, I invaded again, my tongue fucking her mouth the way I wanted her body.
Who the hell was I kidding?
I wanted everything.
And I was going to fucking take it.
She was mine even before I wanted it before she knew it.
Always.
“Mine,” I growled like a monster, then rested her body against my pinned knee as I shimmied her tight dress past her hips.
She
moved against my leg.
“Take it,” I encouraged. “You’re only making it easier for me to take you.”
With a whimper, she fell forward, her forehead resting against my shoulder as she panted with need.
“Unbuckle my pants,” I ordered.
Her blue eyes locked on mine in a challenge, a standoff that would decide everything between us.
And then she reached down and jerked open my belt, painfully, purposefully, hitting every hard inch of me as she roughly tugged it open, followed by the button of my trousers.
Without looking away, she gripped me.
It took every ounce of strength not to whimper, collapse against her, to beg for more of what I’d been needing.
Her.
We made zero sense.
I’d thought.
And now I realized.
We were the only thing that did make sense in this cruel world.
Fallen King and his Orphan Queen.
As she roughly pumped me, I leaned forward, biting down on her shoulder—my teeth would leave marks, the way her touch would imprint on my soul.
“Hard. Fast. Painful.” I barely got the words out. “This isn’t making love, Annie. This is a claiming.”
Her eyes fell to my mouth as she whispered. “Then what are you waiting for… claim me.”
I shoved her hand out of the way, pressed her up the wall, and then impaled her on me, sliding all the way down, until I was home.
In heaven.
Her heat was slick, ready for me, clenching me like she was afraid I was going to pull out and away.
Maybe because so many other times I had.
But now?
Now I was taking.
I moved her up, down, then reached up with my right hand and shoved it into her hair, messing it up, tugging it, refusing to let her be tame anymore— not even letting her hair even be tame as I held on and forced her to ride me.
“Ash, I’m already.” Her eyes were wild, unfocused.
A bead of sweat ran down my temple. “Good.”
“I need more.” She begged so prettily, so perfectly, how could I not lift her onto the counter and pray it was clean as my hips bucked against her.
“So much.” She panted. “It’s so much.”
“It’s us.” I barely got the two words out as I tried to hold myself at bay, tried to make sure she got where she needed to go, but it was too much.
Because it was us.
It was explosive.
It was all sorts of pain.
And pleasure.
And beautiful violence that we both needed.
I tugged her hair again. As she arched back, memories assaulted me of when her head hit the mirror last time we were like this.
I would kill to stay inside her forever.
I spread her thighs wide, gripped her, felt her body sucking me in, holding me hostage as she let out a scream.
My. Name.
Passion, heat, untold secrets, and lies—truths shattered between us as I followed her release.
Both of us panting, I cupped her face gently with my hands, ready to confess.
To reveal it all.
When I heard the slight tick of the lock on the door turning.
Her eyes met mine, wide with fear.
I pressed a finger to my mouth and pulled out of her, then shoved her behind me into one of the stalls, quickly pulling up my pants, flattening them, and grabbing my gun, hiding it in my jacket as I pretended to throw water on my face.
I gripped the countertop then as water dripped off my chin, noticing the reflection in the mirror.
I didn’t recognize him.
But he looked… rough.
A balding head with greasy skin, a black suit that clearly wasn’t made for him, and from what I could see, a really shitty Glock that he had hidden inside of his jacket like he was going to shoot me executioner style.
“The door was locked.” He pointed behind him.
“Yeah, I was jacking off.” I shrugged. “Sorry, not sorry.”
He frowned and started to look behind me.
A gasp sounded.
Annie?
He moved.
But so did I.
I flew into action, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him against the bathroom countertop, and then against the mirror as glass went flying.
His gun went off.
With a grunt, I broke it free from his grip as it scattered across the floor.
Blood poured from his head wound as he smiled at me like he had the upper hand. “You will lose, Abandonato.”
“You the dipshit sending horses?” He frowned as I stood to my full height. “Oh, sorry, you’re probably a bit slow. Um, not drunk, still a jackass, working on it, maybe I’ll get therapy, who knows… oh and in case you’re still confused.” I smacked him on the cheek. “We all have a part to play, which I’m sure you’re associates are experiencing in three, two, one—”
The bathroom door burst open.
“Heard gunshots.” Valerian had his gun trained on us along with Junior, Tank, and Serena.
“Kill me.” The man shrugged. “I don’t care. I won’t talk.”
“That’s okay,” Tank sneered from his position. “The FBI already moved in ten minutes ago… we have three of your men ready to give us everything as long as they don’t get life.”
His face paled. “They wouldn’t dare.”
“They already did.” Tank put his gun away and pulled out his badge. “You’re officially under arrest for—”
“D-dad.” Annie’s voice sounded on a gasp as she moved out of the stall and stumbled to my side.
His face darkened with hatred. “You? You’re still alive after I sold you to those De Lange men?” He let out a laugh. “Ah, of course you are; you always were such a resilient bitch. What? Did you whore yourself out like your mother did to one of ohhhh—” He eyed Ash. “I see… sex for protection, clever, clever—”
“I love him,” she said in a low voice. “And you died, I saw the reports, you killed Mom then killed yourself before I went into the system before those men came to the house!”
“The system and those hired men should have taken care of my problem—you.” He sneered. “A Sinacore under my roof!’ He spat, “MINE! You were too dangerous to keep the older you got.”
Annie lifted her chin.
She didn’t cry.
She just stared at him.
At this man that forced her mother to go to another man to have a baby.
I imagined her pain.
I wanted to end him.
I searched the floor for my gun, and that was when I noticed she was holding it as if she wasn’t afraid, as if she’d held one before.
Of course.
Italy.
“Tank.” She said his name, making me want to roar with anger. “Please leave.”
“Aw shit, Annie—”
“I’m in this now, right?” she asked in a shaky voice.
“Blood in,” I said gently. “No out.”
She lifted the gun. “You murdered my mom!”
He held up his hands. “You don’t have the guts, you’re spineless, gentle, just like her, wouldn’t even hurt a—”
Two shots fired.
Directly.
Into.
His.
Dick.
She didn’t miss.
He howled with pain, collapsing to the floor, blood went everywhere, and then with shaking hands, she dropped the gun and lifted her chin. “Death would be too kind.”
He screamed her name as I reached for her hand and nodded to Junior. “Clean this up, will you?”
He cracked his knuckles. “With fucking pleasure.”
“Think of it as an early wedding present.” I patted him on the shoulder.
“I knew we were best friends for a reason.” He grinned, shutting the bathroom door behind him.
I didn’t give Annie time to think.
To panic.
I ju
st grabbed her by the hand and walked us through the lobby nodding to the associates I knew would clean up and listen to every word from Junior.
And when we got to the elevator.
I looked back.
Tank stared at us.
He sighed, and then he called into his lapel. “All clear.”
“Thank you,” I mouthed as the doors closed.
He nodded his head, and then he was back in FBI mode.
“I can’t believe I just did that.” Tremors rocked Annie from head to foot.
“I can. I knew you had some rage inside you.” I pulled her into my arms. “Now, let’s go wash it all off.”
“The blood?”
“No.” I kissed the top of her head. “The rage.”
Chapter Thirty-One
“Unable for the loved to die, for love is immortality.”—Emily Dickinson
Annie
I still felt him between my legs.
Tasted his lips.
And then I saw it.
Him.
The dad I was born with.
The one that basically trafficked me into another Family like an item sent to the Goodwill… or the trash.
I collapsed against Ash.
With a curse, he lifted me into his arms.
We made it to the penthouse suite, or I assumed so since it said PH, and as we walked down the hall, several associates were stationed at each exit like Ash had been planning this all along.
“I may be the devil,” he muttered. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to give you heaven after your descent into hell.”
I frowned as he tossed his card to a cousin standing by our door. “Hey Dom, can you let us in and then just guard…”
Dom grinned. “That why you gave us all earplugs?”
“It’s because I care,” Ash teased.
“Asshole,” Dom groaned. “You know we’re not allowed to silence anything that happens in that room, but…” He smiled at me. “…I swear we’ll conveniently forget anything ever happened.”
“Excellent.” Ash moved into the suite, the door clicked behind us.
The room was ginormous.
With a panoramic view of the city and Lake Michigan.
“You like it?” Ash whispered, setting me on my feet.
I nodded. “Did they have this available last minute or—”
Ash scoffed. “I’m not an amateur; I booked this yesterday.” My eyebrows shot up. “And paid off the rich dude who was supposed to stay overnight.”
Destructive King Page 22