The Elite Kings Boxset Vol. II

by Amo Jones

  I take a seat on one of the chairs that surround the main dining room of Brantley’s house. I watch as all The Kings fall to their chairs, Bishop at the head of the table, me at his right and Brantley at his left. The whole drive back here, my mind has been racing about what Tillie might want to say. I spread my legs wide and lean to the side, my finger running over my upper lip. I watch her closely as she paces back and forth like a caged lion. Left, to right, to left, back to right. Once we’re all seated, she exhales.

  “I have something to tell you all and Bishop, please understand why I couldn’t say something earlier.”

  I feel my brows crease as I pin her with a glare. Her eyes meet mine, glassing over in what I can only explain as apologetically.

  I look to my lap.

  She tilts her head in question.

  My lip kicks up in a smirk as I nod to my lap again.

  She gets it, and like a good little girl, she slowly makes her way around the table. Don’t get it twisted, Tillie is not obedient by any means, but I know when she needs me, and right now, she needs me. I push my seat back with my legs, the sound of the stilts scraping against the hardwood floor squeaking through the tension. She sinks into my lap, resting on top of my cock. I fight a groan, my fist coming to my mouth. Brantley kicks my leg from opposite me and I wink at him, blowing a kiss.

  “As you were saying, Princessa,” Bishop murmurs, pouring another glass of whiskey and sliding it over to her. She takes it, her hair dropping low as she shoots it back. My eyes cross as I fight thoughts of wrapping her long strands around my fist and bending her over this table, fucking her little cun—

  “Madison was raped,” Tillie whispers from on top of me.

  I freeze, now fighting the urge to do some jerk notion like pushing her off my lap and raging.

  “What!” Bishop snaps, pushing the chair back and glaring at Tillie.

  Tillie stands up from my lap, but my arm wraps around her waist, holding her to her spot. Her ass in my happy place is the only thing that’s stopping me from losing my shit at her right now.

  “Chill, I’m just grabbing the scotch…” she whispers.

  I release a little as she leans over and grabs it before taking her spot back on my lap.

  Where the fuck she belongs. This queen doesn’t need a throne, she just needs my dick to sit on.

  She unscrews the cap and flicks it off. “Yeah.” She shoots back another shot. “That guy I accidentally killed?” Accidentally. “Well, he’s the one who did it, and before any of you ask me a thousand questions, please understand that I don’t give a fuck what any of you say. Madison is my best friend. I would keep her secrets for lifetimes over if I have to, and before you say anything else—” Everyone shuts their mouths like they do when Tillie speaks. “You all live in glass houses if you hold the fact that I kept her secret above my head, considering you all bathe in the shit.”

  I bite on my cheeks, attempting to hold in my laugh. My eyes find Brantley and he’s the same, barely hiding his smile behind his hand because aside from Tillie finally using her status to speak, my sister got raped. I need retribution, and Bishop, well—I look up at him and watch as he flops backward, his back hitting the wall. I’ve never seen Bishop like this, in all the years I’ve known him. His face is pale, like all the blood in his system has drained and poured itself into the wrath sector. He slowly slides down the wall, dropping to the floor. Fuck.

  I rub my girl’s leg and then tap her, leaning into her ear. “Hop up, baby.”

  She does, and when I stand, she takes my seat. I slowly step toward Bishop. I have to be careful with how I approach this.

  “Also, I don’t know anything else, other than the fact that she said that he had manipulated her. Used something against her. Every time I would ask her about it, she would shut down. She made me swear to secrecy about it, but let’s be real, she didn’t really have to do that because I would have kept that secret anyway…”

  I drop to the ground. “Hey…” I try to get Bishop’s attention, but his eyes are glassed over, fixed on something in front of him. Totally unfocused and away with the fairies. His face is a symbol of heart-shattering regret.

  Fuck.

  My hand flies to his chin and I grip it roughly, tilting his face to mine. I inch in until our noses touch. “Don’t let this fuck you. We will get her back, you will make it okay, and we will make them pay.”

  His Adam’s apple bobs and he yanks his face out of my grip. “No.”

  I cock my head, my eyes narrowing. “No?”

  His jaw clenches. “This happened because of me.”

  “—Bro.”

  He cuts his eyes to mine. “No.”

  “What the fuck do you mean no?” I snap at him. “We will get her back…”

  Bishop laughs, his dark eyes coming up to mine. “IF she wanted to still be a part of this life, Nate? She would have fucking told me when it happened. We would have been able to deal with it correctly. Instead, she has done what Madison does and she has run. I’m done, dawg. I can’t chase her for the rest of my life.”

  My heart pounds in my chest. There are all sorts of bullshit that is wrong with what he’s saying. First of all, good luck to Tillie if she ever tried to run from me because I’d kill us both before I’d let her live a life that didn’t have my existence around to tease her, second of all, this isn’t Bishop at all.

  He stands, cracking his neck. When his eyes come to mine, I see in his dark depths how the flecks are burning with rage, but there’s something else.

  He’s fucking tired.

  “If and when she wants to come back to me, I’ll be here. Until then, she’s not my problem.” Then he shoves me away, taking a seat back on his chair like none of this happened.

  He picks up his glass. “We will find out who that fuckwit was and who he was tied to. I’ll deal with them accordingly for fucking with someone who was mine, but from then onward, this, her, she ends here. Until further notice.”

  Tillie’s eyes find mine, wide as saucers. I let out a soft growl and take my place back at the table, with Tillie right back on my dick.

  Tillie is loading the dishwasher when I enter the kitchen, leaning against the doorway. She turns to face me.

  “Hi.”

  I’m tired, my damp clothes are stuck to me like a stage five clinger, and I need to sleep for a fucking lifetime, but I push off the door frame and make my way to her, my arm snaking around her waist until her back is crashing into my front.

  “Come home with me.”

  She stills, putting another plate into the dishwasher. “Nate.” She turns in my grip, her eyes coming to mine. I bring my other hand to rest behind the back of her throat, my fingers itching to pull her hair and fuck her until she’s blue. “We can’t do this,” she whispers, shaking her head.

  “Do what?” I brush her off. “I asked you to come home, I didn’t drop to one knee. But if you need”—I run my fingers up her inner thigh, my index finger coming to the slit, over her damp panties—“me to drop to my knees and suck on your pussy, then done, because I’m fucking starving.”

  I shuffle back and look down on her when she doesn’t answer me. Her lips are tucked between her teeth, her eyes closed.

  “I can’t forgive you.”

  I run my lips over hers. “You don’t have to forgive me to fuck my face, baby. We’ve had this discussion.” I grip the backs of her thighs and lift her up onto the black marble counter. Her legs spread as I step between them, pulling her flush up against me. I grind into her, grabbing what I can of her curvy ass.

  “It’ll be years before I forget what you’ve done…” She closes her eyes as I run my tongue over her collarbone, licking up her neck and to her mouth. I bite down on her bottom lip and watch as they part, a soft moan escaping. I want to eat her noises and swallow them.

  My fingers tighten around the back of her neck as I brush my lips across hers. “Then just forget for tonight.”

  She wraps her arms around the back
of my neck. “Just for tonight, and then you’re dropping me back here in the morning.”

  I nod. “Deal.”

  Fuck no.

  “Okay,” she sighs, and I step away so she can jump off the counter. “Just one night.”

  Tillie

  Nate is driving us back to his house when we pass the Chinese restaurant we visited a couple of months ago. He pulls in without me saying anything as I continue to wipe the rest of the face paint off my face with a wet wipe.

  He continues through the drive-through, ordering all of my favorite dishes. The smell distracts me from the song playing on the radio, and I turn to watch the passing trees. I can’t believe all that has happened tonight, but now that I’ve had time to sit back and evaluate everything, I always found it strange how Daemon was here only sometimes, and those times were usually when I was fuzzy with some kind of trauma. His bed was always made neatly, and although he was Daemon, I always felt like he wasn’t Daemon. It’s why I hesitated to kiss him, why he looked different, and maybe even why my nightmare showed him killing me.

  I sigh, reaching into the bag and popping open the fried coconut shrimp. My absolute favorite.

  “What’s going on in that head of yours?” Nate asks from over his shoulder, eyeing me skeptically.

  “Just that I feel batshit crazy.” I bite into my shrimp, chewing slowly.

  Nate chuckles. “We’re all fucking crazy, Tillie, but it’s who we stay sane for that matters. You need to for you. Love is just an anchor. It can either be the reason you drown or the reason you float. You can’t ride on that to keep you sane.”

  I take another bite and then toss the tail end back into the bag. “I see your point. So, I should stay sane for love? Or the possibility of love?” I ask, genuinely interested in his answer.

  He’s pulling down the gated driveway to his home, and what was once my home. He snorts, jerking up the brake. “Fuck no. You stay sane for yourself, because you can’t give people that kind of power. You have to make it—for you.”

  “What about you?” I ask. Things between Nate and I will never be awkward. We know each other’s darkest, dirtiest secrets, and power comes with trust when that person knows the dark corners of your dusty soul.

  “Least of all me,” he whispers, and then shoves his door open and slams it closed.

  Nate is the biggest mindfuck. Dating someone like him doesn’t just happen. There are many different layers that you need to peel off before you get to his core, and you can finally say, this is it. We’re dating and together. I’d like to think that I’m the only one who has gotten close to that core, but I’m not sure that’s something to be proud of, considering my sanity these days.

  I swing my door open and step out to the cool night, chills snapping over my skin. It’s freezing and my clothes are still damp. Nate beeps his car alarm and we make our way up the stairs to the front door. He kicks it closed and I instantly remove his hoodie, wanting to get rid of the heavy, wet garment that’s itching against my skin.

  “Oh,” Elena sighs, her shoulders sagging. Her face falls as she swipes the unshed tears from her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. It’s so nice to see you, Tillie, sweetheart, it’s just I thought you were Madison.”

  Nate slowly places his keys into his pocket, his eyes fixated on his mother.

  “It’s okay. I’m sorry, Elena. I will help as much as I can.” I try to comfort her, but she looks distraught.

  Her eyes find mine. It’s the first time that I take in her appearance. She’s usually glowing, (probably from all those nasty green shakes she drinks), and her body so trim and fit. But I look at her right now and it looks like she hasn’t had a meal in weeks and her eyes have wrinkles around the edges that suggests she’s been straining to keep them open, fighting sleep. When I notice the dark circles under her eyes, it only further solidifies my suspicion.

  She tightens her cardigan around her body. “I’ll go back to sleep.” She has lost so much too over the last few months. It wasn’t just Nate and me who lost Micaela, it was all those around her too, especially Elena, and now Madison has disappeared.

  “Wait!” I say, stepping forward.

  Elena turns to face me. “Yes?”

  I lift the bag of hot Chinese food. “Please eat with us?”

  Her face softens, a small smile on her mouth. “I wouldn’t want to impose…”

  “Mom,” Nate growls, and I cut him a glare to soften his damn voice.

  He rolls his eyes. “I mean, Mom,” he rectifies sweetly. “Come eat with us.”

  She rubs her cheeks with the edge of her cardigan and nods. “Okay.”

  I wait for her as Nate heads into the kitchen, flicking the lights on.

  “I’m sorry, Tillie, I’m such a mess right now.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” I answer, pulling out a bar stool for her. “Trust me, I am not one to judge…”

  Nate snorts.

  I cut him another glare.

  I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to live the whole seeing someone who isn’t really there thing down. Once it dies out into the background, I have no doubt these assholes are going to make jokes about it until the day I either die or kill them all. The latter sounds more fun.

  Nate pours his mother a sparkling water, and me a still, because he knows I hate sparkling water because it actually tastes like stomach acid, then he opens up the cartons and places three plates onto the counter, swinging a stool around the other side of the island so he can sit opposite us. I thought being here would be hard, but it’s not. If anything, it makes me feel a little closer to her. Like I can still feel Micaela’s presence in the kitchen.

  We dig into our food, Elena only having a small amount, but I’m not going to push it. Any food is still food.

  “How have you been, sweetheart?” Elena asks, spooning a small amount of fried rice into her mouth.

  “Surviving.” I smile at her a little.

  Nate clears his throat. “Mom?”

  Her eyes go to his.

  “Where’s Joseph?”

  She places her fork down onto her plate. “Thank you for dinner. I’m feeling tired, I might just turn in.”

  Nate goes to open his mouth and I cut him another glare. His mouth snaps shut. Elena kisses us both on the head and disappears into the foyer.

  Once she’s out of view, Nate brings his full attention back to me. “Give me those eyes again and I’ll shove my cock so far down your throat they’ll pop out of your skull.”

  “Don’t threaten me.” I pick up another piece of shrimp, biting into it. “Do you think she will be okay?”

  Nate shakes his head. “No, but she’ll survive. We all do.”

  We sit and eat the rest of our food, and then we both move around the kitchen fluidly as we clean up. We’re climbing the stairs slowly, my eyes drifting closed when he pulls me under his arm.

  “You need a bath.”

  “Mmmm,” I answer, my eyes feeling heavy from all of the theatrics of the evening.

  “I’ll run it.” He sits me on his bed, and I watch as he moves into the bathroom. A few minutes later, he nudges his head and takes my hand. “Strip.”

  I roll my eyes. “Here I was thinking you had turned all cute on me.”

  “Never.”

  I wriggle out of the dress and kick my panties to the side, following him right into the bathroom.

  There’s no bubble bath or romantic candles, because of course there isn’t, but I appreciate it so much when I sink my foot into the warm—borderline too hot—water.

  I sigh, slipping my whole body under and embrace the tingles that bite over my flesh. They slowly evaporate as I adapt to the temperature. Nate tucks in behind me. I ignore how the water spills over the edge. He pulls me against his chest, his dick stabbing into my lower back.

  He kisses the back of my throat.

  “One night,” I whisper.

  His tongue traces circles around the nape. “One night,” he answers.


  “Promise?” I tilt my head, giving him more access.

  His finger glides over my slit, small circles around my swollen clit. “I promise.”

  His pace slows and I slowly grind myself into him in circles, biting down on my lower lip.

  “Stand up and put your pussy on my mouth.” He bites on my ear lobe.

  I stand, spreading my legs wide and watching as water slips over my toned thighs. Nate peers up at me, slipping between my legs with his hands grasped around my upper thighs. He keeps his eyes on mine as he edges closer, dragging his tongue up to lick the droplets of water that are surfing down my skin. He yanks me down roughly and I fall, my knees crashing violently against the bottom of the bathtub. He brings his mouth to my pussy, all while his eyes continue to remain on mine and he circles my clit gently. My head rolls back, my hands coming to his hair.

  “Open your eyes and don’t touch me.”

  I do as I’m told.

  “Put them behind your back.”

  I do, holding my wrists together. He leans over the bathtub and picks up something, bringing it to my wrists and binding them together.

  “Look at me, Tillie.”

  My eyes come down to his, my head tilting. My heart thrashes around in my chest. “Tell me what you want. Do you want me to suck on your pussy?”

  I nod, clamping my lips closed. Why are you acting shy? I tilt my head and smirk. “Yes. I want you to lick my pussy.”

  A dark smirk dances on his mouth to the same tune you’d lower a casket into the ground. He leans forward and his mouth connects with my folds, his tongue flicking across. He shuffles further down and licks inside of me. I clench around his invasion, my thighs shaking. My orgasm rips through me like a category five cyclone, threatening to leave casualties in its wake, then he stands, and suddenly his slick cock is right in front of my face. The word KING inked above his pelvis, taunting me.

  “You like that, baby?” he asks, his fingers tightening around my chin and yanking my face up to his. “On your knees, bound by your cum-drenched panties, and gazing up at the words that own you, because I do, Tillie. This King fucking owns you.”