I felt her nod slightly.
“Is your car here?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Okay, do you have anything in there that you need? Is it locked?”
“No, and it’s locked.”
“Okay, you’re not going back home. I’m taking you to my place. We need to get you patched up better, and I need to take a look in better lighting.”
“I have to go home,” she said on a whimper.
“No, you don’t. You don’t have to do a damn thing you don’t want to, and I know for a fucking fact that you don’t want to. If you hop out of this car right now and choose to go back, I’m out. No more messages, no meeting up, nothing. I’ll call the police and tell them what I just saw. Whoever the hell is at your house is going to have the law shoved so tightly up their asses they won’t be able to sneeze without it being reported.”
She nodded again without responding.
“You’re coming home with me, Alisa. You never have to go back there.”
“You don’t understand,” she whispered.
“What’s that?” I asked as I kissed her temple.
“My last name is King.”
My hand paused only for a moment while rubbing her arm. This had just become a whole shitstorm of complicated.
Chapter Six
Alisa
Feeling embarrassed, I crossed my arms over my chest as I sat on Mick’s worn leather couch. He stormed around the sparsely furnished house for a moment calling his brother, Mason, who wasn’t home.
“Just get here before I need bail money,” he barked into the phone and hung up.
He tossed a shirt onto the couch in front of me and an open first aid kit on the coffee table. After getting some things out he stared at me for a moment.
“Alright, take your blouse off, Alisa.”
Hesitating, I glanced at his front door. “Your brother.”
He shook his head and started removing more items from the kit. “He won’t be here for a little while. We need to get that patched up better. Blouse. Off.”
I slid the now stained blouse off my shoulders as he watched.
“Any way I can get you to remove that camisole?” he asked sweeping his eyes down to my chest.
“I don’t think…”
“Don’t think, Alisa. Just do it. Take that shirt in front of you and cover up if you don’t want me looking.”
I tried to maneuver my arms through the straps. He made no movement toward me and waited as his eyes danced across my face.
A small gasp escaped me when I tried to move my arm up and under the shirt. My shoulder was so sore from earlier it was unbelievable. It hadn’t been as bad when I left, and if I’d slowed down to patch my back properly I wouldn’t be sitting in front of him struggling with something so simple.
I glanced away from him toward the coffee table in shame. One of his hands gently slid up my back as I felt him shift beside me.
“Alisa, look at me.”
My eyes met his for a moment before he leaned in and touched his lips to mine. It was soft and patient as he slid his mouth across mine, promising things, but not demanding them.
I felt a tug at my shirt before the material came loose. There was the distinct sound of metal on metal, as he used scissors on the fabric. I clutched the front as it parted down my back and both straps slid off my shoulders.
His mouth moved to the top of my shoulder, slowly leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. I whimpered in response as my body grew restless with pain of a different sort. It was a desperate feeling of wanting him, and yet tense from not knowing what this would all mean in the end. He couldn’t possibly want to involve himself for long in the King family ugliness.
His tongue glided to the back of my neck as he reached around me. The front of the camisole slid free from my hands.
As he continued to suck at the back of my neck and along my spine, he grabbed his t-shirt and pressed it against my now bare chest. Two of his fingers slid around the fabric to graze the underside of one of my breasts and I started panting.
“I’m trying, Alisa,” he whispered against my skin. “I need to patch this, but you taste like honey and smell even better. Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
A small smile managed to reach my lips. He thought I was beautiful. Even now with blood on us both and in bad circumstances.
Blood trickled down my back a little, but his hand wiped it away. His mouth trailed down to the top on my spine then departed as I felt the tape being removed from the flimsy patch.
“Unfortunately, I’ve got to do this two-handed,” he said gruffly, as I felt his fingers under my breast flex and slide along my skin in retreat.
The tape and covering came off gently and he growled.
“This is going to hurt a moment,” he said, as he dabbed the area with something that smelled like alcohol. The sting of it made me hiss for a second.
He trailed a finger down my back and adjusted behind me again.
“Ready to tell me about it?”
I breathed in, knowing what he wanted while he cleaned me up. His long fingers stroked along the angry line in my skin that I knew was there.
“A belt. I think the tongue caught me just right.”
He paused for a second in his attentions then continued.
“Okay, and the others?”
He meant the other scars on my back that were so faint, no one had ever said anything about them. Not now, anyway, after years of healing.
“Same,” I whispered.
“Okay, you don’t need stitches,” he said with a tone that sounded detached and clinical. “It just went in deep enough to bleed when you move around.”
He kept his hand firmly on the wound for a moment then cleaned it again.
“You have some bruising. Do you want me to call the police?”
“No. It won’t help.”
“Who’s your brother? Did he do this?”
I shook my head. “No. Alex would never do this. He doesn’t know.”
“Alex?” he asked in surprise. “Alexander King is your brother?”
I nodded.
“Interesting. You don’t look alike.”
Shrugging I said, “That’s what everyone says. Alex looks like…he has the dark hair, looks more like the rest of them.”
“You can tell me your dad did this. Or I can tell you. Denny King? Would you like to tell me why?”
Chewing on my lip, I decided it was better to just tell him, he'd already seen the evidence of what my father had done. “He was home early when I got there. I thought I’d timed it right. Should have just stayed away.”
“You’re done,” he informed me. “Let me help you with the shirt.”
He leaned against my back as I turned my head to the side and stared up at him. His eyes held mine briefly then glanced down as he slid the shirt out of my hands. They burned at the sight of my bare chest.
“Mick…” I whispered.
“Be a good girl and get dressed for both of us. I can’t…I’m not good for you,” he whispered.
I opened my mouth for a second, wondering what to say. “I’ll be good for you then.”
“Fuck,” he whispered and closed his eyes. “Please, before I carry you back to my bed and make you regret those words.”
“I’d never regret it. Not ever.”
He groaned and shifted to stand up, pulling me up with him. Picking me up he carried me to a room with packed boxes and a bed that looked rumpled and slept in.
“Don’t move,” he said as he laid me down on the sheets then disappeared into the bathroom for a moment to wash his hands.
When he came back, I let the t-shirt he’d given me fall away from my hands and he growled as he gazed down at me. He removed my shoes and slowly tugged my skirt over my hips.
Laying in front of him on display in my black lace panties and nothing else felt overwhelming. I wondered what he thought.
When he didn’t move to do anything else or even tou
ch me, I squirmed in nervousness.
“I’m sure you’ve seen better,” I said quietly, as I rolled onto my side and brought my legs up to my chest.
“Don’t ever fucking say that to me again,” he barked. His measured glare made me blink with regret.
He was so confusing. He wanted the good girl to tell him to behave, but not the words of a woman desperately trying not to feel inadequate compared to what he was used to. Some women would have known what to do, but I just didn’t.
I glanced away from him and buried my nose in his pillow. A musky scent invaded me, and I took a deep breath.
I heard movement behind me, then the bed dipped with his weight. His hand came to rest on my back before trailing down my side and over my hip. It lingered there, then slid around to my stomach. Mick’s lips found my neck again as he pressed his bare chest against me.
I writhed beside him as he touched and explored my neck with his tongue, sending shooting sensations up my body. I could feel myself getting wet from his attention, a pool of burning lust settled deep in my belly.
He turned me onto my back and latched on one of my nipples with his hot mouth and tongue. He sucked hard causing me to gasp, then bit the underside, roughly.
My panties were invaded by his large hand. I moaned from his attention on my breasts, and he played with my clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in earnest.
He groaned as he found my mouth and my hands found their way around his back.
When he hooked one finger into me I gasped against his mouth. Then he added a second one. I could feel myself coating his fingers as he spread my folds and started a slow rhythm, pumping into my body.
He bit my lip and licked the spot immediately. “So tight. Is this what you wanted, baby? Me inside you?”
“Yes,” I whispered as his mouth descended on my neck.
He sat up suddenly, slid to the end of the bed and yanked my panties down my legs.
“Spread your legs for me, Alisa,” he said roughly, as he pushed my knees apart and stared down at my center. “Fuck, that’s mine.”
Before I could question what he said, he lifted me slightly by my hips and his mouth was on me. His tongue licking and sucking as he kept my legs spread around his face.
My mouth opened in a silent scream as I arched off the bed. I couldn’t keep up with the sensations that shot through my body. A tear slid down my face at the magnitude of hot yearning that was burning through every part of me as he slid his tongue into me and he flicked my clit with his finger.
The sounds of his groaning response to what he was doing was only making me fly higher. His beard chaffed the most sensitive parts of my legs, the iron grip he had on my hips and his mouth against my clit as he sucked at it harder than before sent me spiraling out of control.
My head thrown back and body arching, I screamed, grasping desperately at sheets, his shoulders, pushing against his headboard to grind into his face. I was spinning and felt so light-headed, I was on the verge of passing out. He continued his onslaught mercilessly until I stopped writhing underneath him and started shivering in the aftermath.
He gave me one last lick that made me twitch and he smirked up at me.
Crawling over me, kissing a trail up my body, he hovered for a second, staring down into my dazed eyes.
“Taste yourself. You’re all honey.”
Dipping his head, he ran his tongue along the seam of my lips. I opened for him and he plunged inside, making me taste myself and him at the same time. Yet it was his taste, the whiskey and muskiness of his skin that surrounded me.
He licked at my lips then slid away from me. Closing my legs and pulling a sheet over them, he stalked to his bathroom partially clothed in just his slacks that were hanging loose around his muscled hips. He shut the door halfway and I stared after him.
My eyes felt heavy, but my brain was still whirling with what had just happened. I’d never felt so content and somewhat shocked at the same time. He made me feel alive and that was more than anyone had ever made me feel in my life. Whether it was his experience and my lack of it, I didn’t know. Much like his personality, the way he touched me felt like he had two sides to him. Rough and yet tender. Surprisingly, I liked both.
I heard the sink turn on and off then sounds of the shower. Steam filtered through the crack in the door as I kept peering at the opening, wondering why he hadn’t taken things further.
When he emerged after a few minutes, he had a towel wrapped around his waist. Droplets of water collected and dripped down his chest. He had a smattering of hair that cascaded from his pecks down to the edge of his towel. It looked like he kept it trimmed or it was naturally short. Regardless, it made him look even more like a very virile man.
He gave me a quick glance and a smirk as he grabbed a shirt, and his jeans. He turned around to change, not letting me see him fully nude. I didn’t know whether that was out of modesty or privacy, but it felt unfair in a way.
He ambled over to the side of the bed afterward and turned me onto my stomach.
“Still patched. Should heal okay.”
“Mick?” I asked, as I gazed up at him.
“Everything’s okay, Alisa. Don’t think about it too hard. You’re stunning.”
“Okay, but…”
He trailed his fingers across my mouth. “Just let it be for now. Tell me about what happened earlier.”
“Uhm, when?”
He nodded toward my back. “That. I need you to tell me.”
“You answer, and I’ll answer.”
He frowned. “That’s not how this works.”
“Make it work, Mick. You answer me, and I’ll answer you. Truthfully.”
“So, it’s I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?” he asked. “Baby, I’ve already seen yours, so answer my question.”
I blinked up at him, stunned by his tone.
I rolled over and sat up. Inching to the side of the bed and pushing my hair out of my face, I snapped, “Fuck you, Mick.”
He sat, stunned at my statement.
I grabbed my skirt off the floor, shimming it up my legs. I didn’t even bother trying to find my panties. He could have them.
Covering my chest, I grabbed for his t-shirt on the bed. Mine was still blood soaked and in tatters on his living room floor. It could stay there for all I cared.
When he came around the bed to stand in front of me, I didn’t look at him. He sat down on the bed and tried to grab my wrist.
“Where do you sit?”
“Never with you,” I bit out miserably. “You can’t expect things to be one-sided and tell me that I need to stop thinking about things every time I try to ask you something.”
“Well there’s that regret I told you about,” he said sarcastically.
My eyes flashed at him in anger. “I didn’t. The only thing I regretted was not being able to make you feel just as good. What did you say? Get on my knees and suck you off without blinking? Like some club slut I guess. Except it didn’t feel slutty ten minutes ago. It felt like the right thing, something I wanted to do with you. I haven’t done it before, but maybe it would have been good. At least I would have tried out of wanting to show you that I liked you, instead of being some casual lay.”
He grabbed my arm and slid me into his lap.
“No, fuck you. Let me go, Mick,” I said as I pushed against his arms that had a vise grip around my waist. I kicked out and he only squeezed tighter.
“Okay, enough!” he yelled at me in a stern voice. “What do you want to know? What do you want me to say? Here’s me in a nutshell. I’m a dick for seducing you while you’re injured. Even if you’d started bleeding again, I wouldn’t have stopped. I’m an asshole because I want you to tell me that you can’t stand me. Maybe if you did then I’d stop dreaming about you. I’m a jerk because I wanted you to run out of that club, scared out of your mind. Then you’d stay at home like a good girl and find someone that would treat you right. And I’m a fucking selfish man, because regardless
of wanting all those things, I want you with me.”
“Then answer my questions, Mick,” I yelled right back at him. “You’re right, you can be a jerk. But I’m still here.”
“Fuck, I know. And I hate myself, for the mess I’m going to insert into your life.”
“I’ve got plenty of that all on my own. I’m not asking you to bare your soul. Just…let me understand some things.”
He shifted his eyes to the floor in thought or guilt, I couldn’t tell which.
Eventually he spoke. “Ask.”
“Okay, why are there boxes in here? What’s your favorite color? Does going commando in jeans chafe? I’d think it would feel weird.”
He looked at me in confusion, his lips tightening then smirking at me.
“You always manage to surprise me. I moved here, but I’m not going to stay with my brother forever. He’s got an interesting nighttime routine as you know.”
“Do you hear them?” I asked in surprise.
He nodded. “Yeah, sounds carry. It’s difficult to deal with when you’re not seeing anyone, and you don’t sleep.”
“Have you ever…” I trailed off and glanced down at his crotch for a minute.
He chuckled then laughed. “Jacked off, Alisa? Jesus. What a question. I don’t think you’re as good as I thought you were.”
I smiled, trying not to laugh at his response and bit my lower lip.
“Interesting,” he said, while studying my face. “I wonder if you’re secretly a voyeur.”
I shook my head. “Not that I know of.”
His lips tweaked. “My favorite color today is blue. Going commando does chafe, I guess, depending on the type of pants. Sometimes it feels good, but sometimes it’s just for easy access.”
“Hmm.”
“What else?” he asked.
“Why didn’t you let me, do something to you?”
He smirked. “I want that, but can we skip that question for now?”
I nodded. “What did you do before you moved here?”
A dark look slid over his face. It felt like a door slammed somewhere in his demeanor that didn’t want to be opened and warned me to keep out.
“I’m not ready to talk about that.”
Mick_Kingston Corruption Book One Page 7