King (Endgame Book 1)

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King (Endgame Book 1) Page 9

by Riley Ashby


  “To your office?” I asked, and I was ashamed at how meek my voice sounded. I propped myself up on one elbow and pulled the sheet up to my waist once more.

  “No. Out of state. It might be a few days.”

  I picked at my nail polish, willing myself not to look at him. So, this was how things were going to be. He had brought me to his bed, made me come, and now he was going to disappear. Trying to hide my disappointment, I nodded and looked away.

  His hand was on my cheek, turning me toward him. I stared at the center of his forehead, above his eyes and well above his mouth.

  “It won’t be long. You’ll be comfortable here.”

  “It doesn’t matter to me. Do what you need to do.”

  I regretted my words immediately, even more so when anger shuttered across his eyes. His fingers tensed against my cheek, and I finally met his gaze. After a moment, he gave me a curt nod and dropped his hand.

  “Don’t move around today. You should relax and stay in bed. Karen will tend to you.”

  I nodded and lay back down, not trusting myself to speak. I rolled to my side, showing him my back. I listened to every sound he made moving around, the slide of his silk tie and the rustle of his jacket over his shirt.

  “Why do you hate Chase so much?”

  I surprised myself by speaking, but I didn’t want him to go just yet. I felt a curious betrayal at his sudden departure, like he was running away from this piece of me that I had given him last night. He didn’t understand what it took for me to submit, give up my power knowing what I knew about what my father had done. The plan to seduce him had flown out the window; my every thought had been to get away from him. Until that other man put his hands on me.

  I ran a finger over the skin of my wrists, now a tinge pinker than usual from where the tie had rubbed it raw.

  I felt the weight of him on the bed, the shift as he crossed his legs to tie his shoelaces.

  “He took something from me, the most important thing in my life. I’m trying to get it back before he realizes exactly what he has.”

  “What is it?”

  Silence followed by more movement as he stood. His fingers brushed my shoulder.

  “Stay in bed.” His voice was hard again, the businessman. The commandant accustomed to unquestioning obedience. The master directing a well-trained pet.

  And because I was a pet, I nodded. The door to the hallway clicked open then shut.

  I was alone. Again.

  The call had come through unexpectedly. Unable to sleep after the excitement of the card game, Castel had stayed up to follow a few leads, one of which actually turned up something we could act upon.

  The trip was unsuccessful. She wasn't there. It wasn't a complete waste, however. Someone had seen her. Had used her. And after a few hours and plenty of screaming, they had given us the information we needed to move forward.

  I clenched my fists as the wheels of my private plane hit the tarmac. I wanted to scrub my hands again to get the man's blood out from under my fingernails. Castel was across from me, asleep, somewhat calm for the first time in days with this new knowledge under our belt.

  In direct contrast, I continued to fidget as the focused calm of the past few days ebbed the closer we drew back to my home and back to Sophie.

  What had made me move in on her like that? The second Chase laid his hands on her, my blood boiled. Some animalistic desire to destroy him rose up in me, and it was only her obvious desire to get out of there that stopped me from tearing him apart. If I didn't guard myself, I was sure I would the next time we were together.

  I had to figure out how to keep from pouncing on her too.

  The report was what pulled me from her side, but I would have had to leave anyway. Pretty young girls who obeyed my commands didn't usually work their way into my head like this. And this wasn’t a situation where I could afford to lose focus.

  What had happened to her on the ride home? I would have expected the pain and shock to produce some tears, but her face was dry. She barely seemed inconvenienced by the whole event.

  “She didn’t seem upset,” I told Castel as we boarded the plane the morning after the fight with Chase. “Was she in shock?”

  At first, I thought he wasn’t going to respond to me. He was beyond pissed that I had brought her back. “I don't think so,” he’d finally said. “Looks like she's a tough one.”

  I had nodded absently. Tough or broken?

  I mulled it over the entire drive back to the house, but I didn't achieve anything except a headache. More maddening than her attitude in the car was the way she spoke to me the next morning, dismissing me from my own bedroom when she couldn’t even muster the energy to stand. The way she avoided my eyes when she spoke, like she was … ashamed? No, I didn’t think that was it. There was something else simmering there. I couldn’t put my finger on it, and it was fouling up my mind.

  We hadn’t announced our return to the house; nonetheless, she was standing at the top of the main stairway when I got there. I gave her a cursory glance, taking note of the healing bruises on her face, and brushed past her without a word on the way to my room. If she wanted to dismiss me, I could do the same to her. But I heard her footsteps close behind me on the carpet, and she blocked the way when I tried to close the door. I rolled my eyes but let her follow me inside.

  “Are you going to ignore me?” she asked. There was a warning in her voice.

  “Glad to see you're moving.” I looked around the room and found myself pleased to realize she hadn't left. The bedsheets were thrown aside, a glass of water on the bedside table. She had stayed in here by herself while I was gone.

  She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “You owe me some explanations.”

  We stared at each other for a moment. Fuck, she looked amazing, even wearing those jean shorts she must have owned for years and the loose Fall Out Boy T-shirt that was faded from being washed so often. Not for the first time, I wondered if I might prefer her like this to the gowns and finery. She looked like she owned herself, and by default, everywhere she went.

  Just like that, I didn’t care anymore that she had tried to laugh off what had happened and dismiss me from my own bedroom. Not giving myself a chance to second-guess, I moved quickly across the room to her. She backed up against the door but didn't try to run. She only looked a little afraid.

  I wrapped my hand around her throat and used my thumb to tilt her chin toward me.

  “Your face looks good. Are you having problems breathing? Any vision changes?” I tried to mask my desire to touch her with my concern—not that I wasn’t also worried about her well-being. I had called and texted Karen multiple times while I was gone, asking for updates even though she assured me there was nothing to report.

  She tried to jerk away, but I held her fast. “Answer me.” She swallowed, and I shuddered slightly at the feel of her throat moving against my hand.

  “No. The doctor came back and checked me again. Everything's fine.”

  I moved my hand down her chest like I had the first night, smiling when her breath caught.

  That was the reaction I was hoping for.

  Reaching for the hem of her shirt, I tugged it up to admire the bruise on her ribs. It was a stellar mixture of yellow, purple, and blue. I touched it gently, and she didn't flinch.

  “And that looks gorgeous,” I murmured. Fuck, I was hard just looking at it. She took a deep breath but didn't pull away from me. I pushed on the bruise, barely, and she gasped. I glanced at her.

  “Did that hurt too bad?”

  She shook her head.

  “Did it feel good?”

  She didn't respond. I let her shirt drop but left my hands on her waist. I ground my fingers into her soft flesh, silently admonishing myself for falling again so quickly, but I was unable to keep my hands off her. She fell boneless against the door. I pressed my forehead against hers, and she closed her eyes.

  “You were so cold the other night,” I
said. “Why was that?”

  “I've met my share of men who think they own me.” Her voice was breathy. “They don't faze me.”

  I could see her eyes moving frantically beneath her lids. “I think it was more than that.” I wrapped an arm behind her waist and pulled her closer. My erection pressed into her belly. I didn’t care. Let her see exactly how she made me feel. I couldn’t be bothered to hide it. “You can open up to me. You're allowed to have your emotions.”

  She laughed bitterly.

  “Did you arrange that?”

  I froze. “Arrange what?”

  She pushed my hands away. “Did you just want to fuck with me, pretend to hand me over to get me all frightened and bruised? That way you could feel like my savior and take what you wanted from me without any guilt.”

  I stepped back and dropped my arms, furious. “Absolutely not.” My hands were fists at my sides. She glared silently, unbelieving. “Sophia, I don’t need any excuse to take what I want from you. And nothing makes me angrier right now than the thought that you were hurt while I was only a few feet away.” I took a chance and reached out again, and she let me run my fingers over her cheek. Her jaw unlocked, eyes flicking across my face as she sought out confirmation that I was telling the truth.

  Taking a minute for a closer look, I examined her with more detail. The black eyes were fading but still colorful, and the cut on her face was nearly healed over. Her pupils were huge, her breathing shallow.

  She wants you. I leaned close, my lips brushing her ear.

  I took a chance. “I’d rather mark you up myself.”

  She took a deep breath, and her breasts pushed against my chest. My heart pounded furiously. She wasn’t pulling away, wasn’t even acting disgusted.

  “Would you like that?” Fuck, I was going to follow her body language over the edge, self-control be damned. I was completely under her spell, and she had no idea.

  She shook her head but worried her bottom lip with her teeth, an entirely unconvincing denial.

  “I think you would.” I bit her earlobe gently.

  This time, she raised her hands and pushed me away. I stepped back, hands up in surrender, and moved back to my suitcase. I didn’t bother to hide the way my pants were straining against my hips. She cleared her throat, and I suppressed the thought of what she might sound like choking on my cock.

  “I don't like owing more debt than I came here with.”

  I laughed. “You think you owe me now that I made you come?” I looked over my shoulder and was surprised to see she was blushing deeply.

  “Well … kind of.”

  I turned my back to her once more. “Consider it a separate debt. Different terms of repayment.”

  “What terms?”

  “You only have to pay it back if you want to.” I shrugged, feigning indifference. I could practically hear her eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. Then she scoffed.

  “That's outrageous.”

  “Do you want me to make it mandatory?”

  I arched an eyebrow, and she reddened even more. I couldn't stop myself from walking over and pinning her against the door with my whole body. My hands were instantly in her hair. She curled her fingers against my chest and raised her face expectantly.

  “You do, don't you? You want me to order you to pleasure me.”

  We were still for the longest second, and then she nodded. Just once.

  Fuck. I was going to blow my load right there if she kept looking at me with those doe eyes. I wouldn't even need to feel her mouth on me. The image alone would be enough.

  Control yourself. I pushed my forehead against hers again, trying to rein myself in. “You're not well. You should be resting.”

  She grabbed my shirt. “I'm fine.” Her lips grazed mine as she said it. Where was this confidence coming from? She had been so distant the other night, even just a few minutes ago. Then this confession, an admission of a fantasy I doubt she had revealed to anyone ever before. I wanted so much to crash my lips against hers and invade her mouth with my tongue. I wanted to force her to her knees and have her mouth accept my hard length. I wanted to come on her face and down the back of her throat and inside her, all in one night.

  I wanted everything. But I couldn't yet.

  “No,” I said, stepping back. She looked upset now, embarrassed. I grabbed her wrist as she turned away.

  “When this is over, Sophie, we're going to have a lot of things to talk about. A lot of things to do.”

  She looked at the floor, but her lips were pressed together to suppress a smile. Her wrist relaxed in my hand.

  “There’s something I have to take care of first. I can’t afford to be distracted. So you’re going to need to wait a little bit longer before you get on your knees and suck me off while you play with yourself.”

  She whimpered. She actually fucking whimpered when I mentioned shoving myself down her throat. I pulled her to me once more and kissed her forehead softly. “It'll be soon enough. Now go rest. In your room.”

  And finally, for once, she obeyed. With a final red-faced look, she slipped through the door and closed it behind her. I heard her feet sink into the carpet as she walked away.

  With a curse, I flew into the bathroom, ripping down my pants. I grabbed my dick in my hand and came hard, right away, ribbons of white spurting onto the vanity while I doubled over, panting. “Fuck me, Sophie,” I whispered, staring at myself in the mirror. I looked like I felt. Completely undone.

  So much for self-control.

  I paced in my bedroom, grinding the heels of my hands into my eyes as I replayed our conversation, our interaction, over and over again in my mind.

  What the hell was I thinking? This had spectacularly backfired on me. I had only wanted to keep myself safe. Giving a man like that control over me was asking for trouble. He was clearly a sadist, and he wanted to hurt me. And I admitted that I wanted him to hurt me.

  He wants to pleasure you too. I shook that voice away. I didn't believe an arrangement like the one he was suggesting could work. He was bigger and stronger, and he currently owned me. Our relationship would never be balanced. He would always wield more power over me than I had over him.

  Why did I let myself fall apart around him?

  I fell back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. There was an intricate gold design painted over the flat white paint, barely noticeable if you weren't looking at it from the right angle. I let my eyes trace the curves and lines as my mind wandered.

  Ellery was attractive enough. That wasn't a problem. I found myself daydreaming of my hands in his hair, either holding his face against mine or brushing away the curl that refused to stop falling across his forehead. And his eyes … forest green with a small halo of blue around the pupil that I hadn't even been close enough to see until today, when he pressed me against the wall with his whole body. I'd felt his erection. My own body had reacted in anticipation of feeling it inside me.

  But I didn't like the other things he made me feel. I didn't like that he made me feel like I was safe with him. I hated that he made me think it was okay to cry. I might not be able to control his actions, but I could sure as hell control the way I reacted to him. I would have to, if I wanted to stay alive.

  I ran to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. I needed to correct this the next time we spoke. I had twenty years of experience with people like Ellery. I would not become a plaything for a man who never learned to accept no for an answer.

  *

  I drew a deep breath and opened the door to my room at dinnertime. I proceeded down the hallway but stopped short when Karen stepped out in front of me. She took in my shorts and T-shirt and shook her head.

  “No. You need to change. Come on.” She grabbed my wrist and tugged me back to my room. “Skirts at dinner. It's a pain, I know, but it's the rules.”

  “Why does he insist on this?” I complained as she pulled me into the closet, only releasing me to sort through the racks of dresses that had a
ppeared overnight, filling the closet to the brim.

  “I couldn’t say.” She was distracted, her guard down. Her voice had a musing tone to it. “I think it had to do with his upbringing. And of course, when—” She caught herself, her lips sealing closed in a tight line. “You should ask him about it, though. I’m sure he’ll open up to you when he’s ready.”

  I shook my head in frustration as I pulled on the dress she chose for me. I couldn’t find out anything about this man no matter how clever I thought I was. Every interaction always ended with me on the defensive.

  Five minutes later, I emerged from my room in a flowing blue dress, lighter than the formal one I had worn last week, that blended with my eyes rather than contrasting them. Karen looked pleased with herself and sent me off with her blessing. Thankfully, she also chose flat white shoes. I was no better at navigating the deep carpet in heels.

  Entering the dining room, Ellery stood. I avoided eye contact as I sat, and he followed suit. The food was served: a cauliflower steak with vegetables for me, another beef steak for him. I didn't wait for him to pick up his fork but began eating, staring at my food. I felt his eyes on me, but we were both quiet for some time. When I finished my meal, I set down my fork and looked at him, only to find he was already staring at me.

  “What's the matter, Sophia?”

  I took a deep breath. I had to be firm on this. “I need to amend what I said earlier.”

  He raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He set down his own utensils and leaned back in his chair. I had to look down again. It made me so furious that he could put me in my place without even saying a word, when there was no reason for me to be ashamed.

  “I'm not interested in any kind of … sexual exchange.” My cheeks burned with shame, but I kept my eyes focused on my plate. “I'm here to spare my father the pain of this debt, and that's all. We should avoid any other kind of arrangement.”

  There was silence for a moment. Then he spoke. “Did you not enjoy our time together the other night?”

  I honestly had never felt so hot in my life.

 

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