King (Endgame Book 1)

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King (Endgame Book 1) Page 16

by Riley Ashby


  “Castel’s not your driver, is he?”

  “No.” I didn’t want to shake my head again. “We’ve known each other since we were teenagers. The business I run … it’s his father’s.

  “Why would his father give you his business instead of his son?”

  I sighed. He was going to kill me for telling her this. “He wasn’t able to take it over because … after college he decided to join the FBI.”

  She sat up straight. “What?”

  “He’s FBI. I’ve been working with them for the past few weeks to try and take down Chase’s human trafficking business. Tori has been helping as well.”

  She considered this. “How did you get involved? Are you FBI too?”

  “No, I’m not FBI. And I don’t want to lie to you, but I can’t go in to the details right now. I promise I will tell you everything, Sophie. But let me keep you out of this a little bit longer.”

  She was ready to argue, but I held my finger against her lips. I couldn’t allow her to dictate the terms on this. I had every intention of letting her know the truth—but only once we had succeeded. “Obey me,” I whispered.

  She captured my hand and kissed my palm. “For now,” she whispered back. And then she kissed my mouth.

  It was a week before I let him out of bed to go any farther than the bathroom, and another after that before he could walk without assistance. He insisted he wasn’t in too much pain, that he could manage, but I wasn’t taking any chances. He nearly ripped his stitches reaching for his toothbrush one day. After that, I made sure anything he could possibly want was far enough away from him that I had to get it myself.

  We didn’t speak any more about the secrets that had led us to the moment in the alley. I was so preoccupied with watching him for signs of weakness, I didn’t have the energy to be angry. I was terrified his concussion symptoms would resurface or the stitches would tear open and blood would come pouring forth once more. At night I slept as soundly as he did, worn out by the exertion of existing with so much pain and worry, only to jerk awake every time he rolled over to ensure he hadn’t accidentally landed on a bruise.

  The only time I left him was when Castel took my place by his bedside to discuss business matters. Part of me wanted to stick around and see what I could pick up; Karen was always there to kindly but firmly lead me away. I would stop by the office and make my next move on the chessboard; Castel and I were on our third game. Things were easier between us too. I didn’t sense the same distrust and animosity I had felt from him in earlier weeks. He still wasn’t exactly nice to me, but he held the door open for me as I left and always sought me out when he was done so I could return to Ellery right away.

  During my time alone, I did whatever I could to distract myself. I read in the library. When I got tired of that, I went outside with the dogs, assisted the groundskeepers in the gardens, and generally did anything else I could think of to forget my frustration at still being locked out of his dark secrets.

  Sitting near a koi pond the size of a small lake while the dogs chased the fish around the edge, I thought about the secrets that had been kept from me from the moment I had agreed to be brought here. Secrets that continued to tear at me even now. I thought about the things I knew I didn’t know and the things that I didn’t even know I didn’t know. I thought about how a relationship built on lies was like a house built on sand, easily swept away by a tide.

  I thought about how I had never felt listened to until Ellery gave voice to my needs before I even spoke them.

  I thought about how he showed me I could hope for a future beyond being a caretaker for a man who treated me like currency.

  I thought about how he kissed me so gently and so fiercely that my heart broke and was mended all at the same time.

  I thought about how every time I caught him staring, the way he looked at me was like he had just discovered the sky.

  *

  Two and a half weeks after the night Ellery almost died, I woke in the darkness to meet his eyes staring back at me. He was lying on his side; the stitches had been removed a few days before. His hand was on my cheek. When he spoke, his voice was softer than down.

  “I know you were worried, Sophie, but I have never been as afraid in my life as when I heard that gunshot go off. I didn’t even feel any pain. I thought you were gone.”

  I slid across the mattress into his waiting arms. I was still afraid to put any weight on him. Nevertheless, he pulled me to his chest and tucked my head against his shoulder. I closed my eyes and tried to hear the blood thundering through the veins in his neck, where it was supposed to be.

  “I told you once you were free to leave whenever you wanted, but I don’t think that’s true anymore. There’s no possible way I could let you escape.” He kissed my closed eyelids. “There can be nowhere you go that I don’t go too.”

  I knew I should be afraid of his words. What he was saying was tantamount to … I couldn’t even let myself think it.

  I read between the lines of his confession and held the words in that small empty space between my lungs, behind my ribcage. The place that had been bound up with barbed wire and land mines for so long it was a marvel I hadn’t noticed they were disappearing. Even in this moment, the realization triggered the instinct in me to pull the drawbridge closed once more. To shrink. To hide.

  His lips were on my forehead. “I know it’s hard for you.”

  I braced myself for him to push me again, like the day he made me cry, but he didn’t. There were only his arms, his lips, and then his fingers pushing up the hem of my T-shirt. He kissed me, caressed me, all while whispering those same promises: That he wouldn’t let me go. That he would keep me safe. And for once, it didn’t fill me with dread or apprehension. I said nothing as I rode the waves of his pleasure, and when he finally slid two fingers inside me, I knew I had already let him take that essential part of me away. He had known long before I did just how open and bare my soul was to him, and he kept quiet about it in order to protect me.

  I had never felt anything like it before, and still, I blinked back the tears forming in my eyes.

  I knew I was lost.

  His legs slid against mine as he moved to cover me with his body. He kicked back the blankets, but I wasn’t cold, not with him there, not with his fingers making their way up my side and his length replacing them in the deepest part of me. What we were doing was not the relentless fucking that had dominated our nights for so long. Even as our pace increased and our breathing quickened, we retained this essential connectedness that took us far beyond the search for physical pleasure. When he kissed me, I felt the full force of not just carnal passion but the deeper connection I had been fighting against that I could no longer deny after he had nearly perished beneath my fingertips.

  “What do you feel?” he asked, our lips never fully parting.

  I blinked, squeezed my eyes and opened them again. I breathed, contracting around him, holding him deep inside me. The words came in the form of breath passing from my lungs to his as we crested together.

  “Not nothing.”

  *

  “Show me how you like it,” I told him, half asleep the next morning while he worked on his laptop. He had been cleared to start working again, all fear of a concussion long removed. The harsh glow from the screen made his face more angular and highlighted a tiny scar I had only barely noticed before. A white lightning bolt through his right eyebrow.

  “What do you mean?”

  I shifted and pulled the sheet higher over my shoulders. “Like the night of the fight.”

  He stopped typing, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He was chewing the inside of his lip as if deciding something very important. Shutting the laptop, he rolled on to his side to face me. “I don't think you're ready.”

  “I was ready the first night you touched me.”

  He slid a hand over my breasts. I reacted instantly, my nipples stiffening beneath his thumb as he pressed down. I whimpered, still half asl
eep, but hooked one of my legs over his and thrust my hips against him. I felt the dampness between my thighs, not just the remnants of earlier sex but my own body readying itself to take him again.

  “You don't understand what that entails. What I'd like to do to you.”

  I pushed closer, feeling him stiffen and extend to his full length against my belly. “You said I was your submissive.”

  He smiled. His own words from the day he first tried to convince me to let him in were coming back to bite him.

  “You want to be my sub? Do you think you can handle that lifestyle?”

  “I’d like to find out.”

  His smile widened.

  “Bite me,” I whispered, and the smile disappeared.

  “Sophia …”

  “Hit me if you want. Leave one bruise or many. Break my skin as deep as you want.”

  His eyes had turned pure black. I was almost afraid.

  “Give me a reason to never do this again.” I held up my wrist, and he knew exactly what I meant.

  He rolled on top of me without warning, a hand around my throat and his length at my entrance, sliding between my pussy lips and reveling in the lubrication.

  “You're too tired now.” He thrust against me, rubbing his cock against me but not entering. I thrashed, trying to buck my hips up so he would slide into me. In response, he simply pushed against me harder to hold me still. “But…” he squeezed just enough on the muscles of my throat to make me catch my breath “…you’re so damn wet.”

  I couldn't reply. His mouth was on mine, his hands grabbing my wrists and pulling them above my head.

  “I guess if you’re going to open your slut legs for me, I should take advantage.”

  My breath caught at the vulgarity. He ignored me, pinning my wrists with one palm and fumbling around with the other to produce a length of ribbon from some hidden spot. He tied my wrists to the headboard. I jerked when the next piece of fabric fell over my eyes, but he held me down and secured it tight at the back of my head. Strands of my hair caught in the knot. He put his hand on my neck again, holding me in place.

  “You have to be quiet. If you make a sound, I'm going to punish you. Call me ‘Master’ if you understand.”

  I obeyed, biting my lip to keep the moan at the back of my throat from slipping out.

  “Yes, Master.”

  “You remember what to say to make me stop?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Your name.”

  He kissed me again, his free hand trailing down my body and between my thighs, between my folds, and pressing on my clit. I let out the smallest sound in surprise.

  Before I could think, my body twisted to the side, and I felt a hot sting on my right butt cheek, accompanied by the smack of his hand.

  There was everything in that strike. It was more than my punishment for disobeying him. It was an admission of trust that he believed I could take this. I could be part of him. He wouldn’t have to treat me with kid gloves for the rest of my life.

  “Be quiet,” he commanded, and I trembled at how his voice had changed. This wasn't the same man who fed me breakfast or stroked my hair as I knelt at his feet in his office. The sharp edge of his tongue lashed at me as expertly as his hand, and I bit my lip again to stifle my voice.

  “Better,” he whispered, his hands returning to my throat and my pussy. He stroked me painfully slow. I felt every change in direction and pressure, surprised when I couldn't predict his movements. I wanted to rip off the blindfold, but my hands were tied tight. I gasped loudly when one of his fingers slid inside me, only to be removed immediately so he could roll me and spank me on the other side. This time, he leaned forward and bit my lip.

  “Do I need to gag you, my pet?” I shivered at his words that were somehow both a promise and a threat all at once. I shook my head, though I wasn't sure I meant it.

  His fingers tightened around my throat, applying just enough pressure to put me into a minor panic. Just as I felt sure he was going to take me too far, he let go. Blood rushed back to my head in a swell, and he leaned down to kiss me.

  “Okay, pet?”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

  That, too, was an admission. I let him push me further than I ever thought possible, and he still brought me back.

  I was proving to both of us that I could live in his world.

  Two fingers inside me now, he twisted and prodded, spreading them to push me to my limit.

  I used every bit of willpower not to make a sound. I wanted to break down and beg him like he had promised me I would. Turns out that was something else he had been right about the entire time.

  He was so quiet as he worked on me, never telling me what he was going to do next. I was surprised by his teeth on my nipples, his tongue in my bellybutton. Everything was on fire. I was choking on my words.

  “Master—”

  His hand across my face cut me off, but he didn't bother to punish me for the scream I emitted when he entered me, his fingers suddenly replaced with his rock hard cock stretching me wide and slamming into the entrance of my womb.

  It was him, completely unfettered, and me, emancipated from my own fear, coming together for what was truly the first time.

  “You can scream now,” he growled, and I did.

  Her throaty cries pumped adrenaline through my veins. I was ice cold except where we were joined, when I entered her and my fingers wrapped around the tender column of her neck. She spread her legs wide beneath me, begging for it, crying out in pain but commanding me not to stop, to never stop. Her fingers were white from pulling hard against the restraints, and they froze as she shuddered and had her first orgasm. More hot liquid spilled onto my cock, coating us both, as I pulled out and pushed back in, out and in, harder and deeper each time.

  There was nothing but us. Nothing but the friction of my cock gliding in and out of her, pushing deeper until I could go no farther. Nothing except the absolute glory of our desire. She called to me, begging me to keep going. I focused on the way her throat worked, the feel of her bones beneath my fingers.

  Her words had an edge like she wanted to cry, but her hips arched so high I was nearly lifted off the bed with her. She sought to take me deeper than was physically possible, but somehow, she did.

  “You make me like this,” I growled next to her ear. “You make me lose my sanity every time you press your ass into me while we sleep. You tear me down with every frown and bring me back to life every time you smile.” The skin on the back of my neck prickled as she pressed her lips against my neck. “That’s why I have to own you like this. So that you’ll never desire another. Do you understand how you’ve changed my life?”

  Everything existed inside her, because that’s where I was. I wasn’t just fucking her with my cock, I was making love to her with my very soul. As intimate as the previous night had been, this was deeper because this was me. And it was her too, taking every last inch of me no matter how hard I pushed or how deeply I bruised her.

  When I couldn’t hold back any more, I brought my teeth down on her shoulder. In that soft ridge of muscle supporting her neck, I sank my teeth until I tasted her blood. She moaned and screamed, her back arching, trying to get away from me but pressing her hard nipples against me at the same time. They grated against my own skin, and she still wasn’t close enough.

  I licked the blood welling from her wound. Sucked it. Left a bruise around the broken skin like a bullseye.

  She came again. She did start to cry, calling out as she did, wrapping her legs around my hips as if to hold me inside her.

  “Don't you dare stop,” she said, but I was so close. I leaned down to bite her breast, the soft pale flesh giving easily into my mouth. I moved my hands to her hips and sat, holding her higher to meet me. I pinched her clit. She came a third time. As she spasmed around me, howling, I finally let myself go. I yanked my cock out of her at the last possible second and let my hand take me the final distance, my cum spraying all over her tits and face.

&
nbsp; Aftershock took over her as I collapsed on top of her and pulled off the blindfold. Looking into my eyes, she licked my cum off her lips and then kissed me, and I could taste myself on her. She tasted like mine.

  “Was that good for you?” I untied her hands with uncharacteristic haste, worried I had pushed her too far for the first time. But as her wrists were freed, she wrapped her arms around me to keep me close.

  “It was perfect,” she whispered into my ear.

  In the aftermath, we lay mingled in our sweat and cum. Our breathing matched and slowed together. I pressed my lips to her ear and mouthed the words repeatedly, unwilling still to say them out loud.

  *

  The knock on the door was soft, but I jolted awake, already reaching for my phone. Sophie was curled against my side, her head on my chest. I wiggled my arm out from underneath her and kissed her lips as she gently protested, never fully waking. I pulled on a robe, opening the door to let in the gentle light of the hallway. Castel was still pulling on his shirt as he burst halfway into the room, heedless of Sophie half naked on the bed.

  “It’s time.”

  I couldn't move for a second, taking in the news. I’d thought he had a lead, maybe, but not anything definite.

  “You're sure? It's her?”

  He nodded. His hands were shaking. “In New York. The auction got moved up. Ellery, we need to move.”

  Everything clicked into place. I was fully awake, fire in my veins. “Get ready, then. We need to be in the air within the hour.”

  He nodded and ran down the hall, already barking orders into his cell phone.

  This was it. It was happening. I had worried I had lost my chance when the attack put me out of commission for so long. I should have trusted Castel would be hard at work behind the scenes, making sure everything still went through as expected. Chase probably never even knew I was injured.

  Finally, after all these months, I would see her again. I would have her back.

 

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