King (Alliance, #2)

by S.J. Tilly

“Do you need somewhere to take her?” His question makes me grind my teeth. “No.” I’m not bringing this little beauty queen to one of our holding cells.

But she’s mine now. And I’ll remove every memory she’s ever had of that dumb bastard, one touch at a time.

I need to know more about my future wife.

I stay silent, hoping Payton will knock back out, because I don’t really want her knowing about this. Not that she won’t find out eventually, but if she finds out what I have planned, she’ll definitely try to interfere. And with the way she has Nero jumping to her every tune, he’ll go along with whatever she says.

I stare at them for a long second, deciding how much of a twisted fuck I want to be right now. Then I shrug and bring them to my nose. Inhaling from my chest, I fill my lungs with the scent of my own soap and… pussy. My pretty little soon-to-be wife left her panties in here, and they smell like my fucking soap and her sweet pussy. Jesus Christ. I take another hit of the intoxicating mix, and my cock is already hard. Leave. It’s time to fucking leave.

So… what? He came in here last night and found me sleeping with all the lights on like a scared child and decided to strip down and get into bed? Like this is normal?

Marrying King to this hellcat will be my fucking pleasure.

Seeing where I was looking, King told me that the cleaners found my keys on Lee’s—or as he said Leland’s—counter and drove it over. King practically spit the man’s name out, so I didn’t ask questions.

Maybe I’d even fuck Savannah in front of him first. Just to prove she belongs to me now.

And it’s not like it’s crazy to be jealous over my wife. Even if her dead ex wasn’t entwined with my family, I’d still want to wipe him from existence. My hands squeeze the steering wheel. Maybe I can still do that. She’s got to have some living ex-boyfriends. If I can remove them from the playing board, I might feel better.

Her lips are practically touching my nipple. I’ve never had a woman suck on my nipples before, but I’m wondering if I should ask her to.

“But I am going to fuck you now.” He shoves his boxers off. “Because you’re my wife. And it’s about fucking time you started acting like it.”

“Who’s a good boy?” Nero baby-talks to his dog, and it makes me want to shove him over.

“See?” He shoves a finger into my chest. “You don’t like it either.” I slap his hand away. “Motel isn’t a cute little nickname. It sounds like you’re calling my wife a whore.” I jab my own finger into his chest. “I already punched one man today for disrespecting her. Wanna make it two?”

Today was… a lot. And I feel like a piece of shit that she had to come face to face with one of my past hookups. That wasn’t fair. Not in her home.

“You’re my wife, Savannah. And that’s never going to change.” His words rumble against my ear. “But I won’t fuck you again until you ask me to.”

I should just slit the throat of every man here and save myself the future hassle. I’m sure most of them deserve it.

“With me,” I tell Nero, and he peels away from his wife, stepping into stride with me. “Who’re we killing?” His tone is casual.

“So”—I roll my neck out—“when you can use your arms again, you’re going to pack up and leave the state. Because if you don’t, I will see you. And I will kill you.”

Her mouth shuts, and I prowl toward her. “Don’t you ever put yourself between me and another man again.” “That’s not…” Savannah’s breath hitches, and I watch her eyes drop to my mouth, then lower. Oh, this sneaky brat.

“And this,” I point over her shoulder at the man still hiding behind a painting, “is unacceptable.” “It’s just Orlando.” “I don’t know Orlando. So I don’t trust Orlando.” I make sure to emphasize his stupid name.

I pat my face dry and think about how King looked, leaned back, manspreading in that chair, watching me work. God, I wanted to climb onto his lap and beg him to just fuck me already. My body pulses. I need to give in. I need some dick.

When we cleared out my house, King assumed he found my whole stash of sex toys, but I had a few more tucked into my nightstand. Because a girl can never have too many friends.

He laughs, and I don’t miss him lifting a hand, like he’s going to pat my shoulder, only to drop it again. “I’ll make sure to yell for you when it’s time.” And I have to wonder if he was remembering what King said about breaking arms.

“You bought a chair-making company for personal reasons?” Nero repeats, and I’ve never hated the sound of his voice more.

“You… don’t care what the company you bought does?” Nero is still talking. Why is Nero still talking?

“Ready for what?” Nero, god of the underworld, still won’t shut up, because he hasn’t figured out that I’m getting my dick sucked.

“Are you gonna swallow me down? Are you gonna make me feel good and take it all, Baby?”

Nero is standing there, hand on the door handle, mouth open in a disgusted frown, eyes narrowed on Pony’s form in disbelief. I straighten my shoulders, pretending like I’m fine with it all. “Shut your mouth. You look like a Muppet.”

Nero turns to head up the stairs. “I don’t want to know.” “Dude.” I follow him up. “It’s not like we fucked on top of Pony.” “I said I don’t—” “We just fucked in front of him.” Nero throws his hands up. “I don’t want to know!”