King (Alliance, #2)

by S.J. Tilly

Because the only thing more painful than the company of a disappointing man is chafing.

Because dear god, what a man.

“His name is Leland,” the woman, Aspen, bites out. “And he is my lying, cheating, piece of shit husband.”

His arm tightens again as he grunts, “Heavy.” This bastard. I’m still terrified, but his shitty comment is enough to spur me out of this frozen state. I claw at the hand over my mouth. My filed short nails barely even scratch his skin. “Knock that off.” He gives me a little shake. “I like ’em heavy.”

And like ’em heavy. What does that mean? Is he going to Silence of the Lambs me?

She shouldn’t be this cute, especially with terror in her eyes and tears on her cheeks, but she is.

Life is way more fun when you just let yourself feel and don’t bother with psychoanalyzing every moment to death.

“Sorry, lady. If my man took you, it’s for your own good. Or maybe his own good.”

“Because acting dumb is basically the number one rule of being kidnapped. And you just told me that you know my name. Why would I ever let you go now?”

This isn’t the only home I own, but it is the one I live in. And I have zero fucking idea why I thought bringing her here would be a good idea.

Savannah’s hands, which had been fidgeting in her lap, get shoved back between her thighs. Her thick, jiggly thighs that I want to take a fucking nap on.

So fucked-up, unfulfilled, and secretly sad is how I’ll live until the day the Grim Reaper finally steps away from my side and faces me.

She might be my type, but she’s not here on a date.

Then I remember she’s my prisoner and I can do whatever I want to her, so I continue the motion until my palm is pressed against her spine.

“I’ll let you stay in here by yourself tonight, but starting tomorrow, you will be sleeping at my side.” Savannah slowly crosses her arms, putting a barrier between us. “Why? What’s happening tomorrow?” I grin. “We’re getting married.”

Stop admiring the killer’s bathroom.

Just as I start to slide the drawer closed, I pause, then use my free hand to jumble the socks all together. If I had both hands, or patience, I’d tie them all into knots. But I have a feeling there will be time for that later.

And once she’s my wife, no one can ever force her to testify against me in the disappearance of Leland Reed.

And no one can ever come after her for being a witness. Because no one touches what belongs to me. No one would fucking dare.

If I’m going to be held prisoner, and possibly end up being murdered by the end of the weekend, I might as well enjoy the small things.

I can’t find any evidence that she sells art prints. I’ll have to talk to her about that. Her pieces are too stunning to limit to the one original piece only. More people need her work on their walls.

I’m guessing he’ll have a few things to say when he gets here. But the shit I’ve witnessed him do since he first met Payton makes my kidnapping Savannah and forcing her to marry me look tame.

I don’t bring a lot of women here, but filming unsuspecting sexual partners is fucked up, and far too close to trafficking for me to be comfortable with. But stealing women to marry them…

“You…” He looks up at me with the most stunned expression I’ve ever seen on his face. “You had me ordained?”

Nero shakes his head. “You’re fucking crazy. But yeah, sure. What the hell, I’ll play priest and marry you.”

Anger I can deal with. I can even deal with fear, because I know King won’t hurt her.

Marrying King to this hellcat will be my fucking pleasure.

“I won’t force myself inside you, Savannah Baby. But I am dying to come all over those pretty tits, so don’t fucking tempt me.”

“Do you, King Bartholomew Vass, agree to take Savannah Jane Oates as your reluctant wife? In sickness and in health. In rich and richer times. Do you promise to be a faithful captor for as long as you both shall live?”

“And do you, Savannah Jane Oates, take King Bartholomew Vass to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to be cooperative and faithful? To be the best wife you can be? To not slit King’s throat while he sleeps?”

I’m wearing a bunch of oversized borrowed clothes, but the way the man is looking at me crawls under my skin.

“But if you ever look at my wife like that again, I’ll remove your eyeballs from your skull.” He pauses. “Understand?”

“Welcome to The Alliance, Mrs. Vass.”

If I can’t admire her nipples poking through her shirt, at least I can appreciate the function of the push-up bra. Because those tits look like fucking heaven right now. And if she’d let me lay my head on that cleavage, I bet I’d sleep like a damn baby.

But watching Savannah destroy that steak has my cock perking up. Again.

I finally spot Savannah. She’s sprawled in the grass, arms wide, using my highly trained, very expensive guard dog as a pillow.

I lean a little closer, trying to see her features in the dim light. “Are you drunk?” She shakes her head. “High.” I sigh. “Hi, Savannah. Have you been drinking?”

“If you say his name right now, so help me god, I will be forced to teach you a lesson.”

neck. “Let’s get you to bed, Savannah Baby.” She takes a slow breath, her head tilting to the side. “Why do you call me that?”

Because I’ve always wanted to call someone Baby. Because your pretty eyes call to something inside me. Because you fucking belong to me, and I’ll call you whatever the hell I want.

“Can you give me a piggyback ride?”

Oh man..this big macho badass giving this girl a piggy back ride

Her smile is pure. And it makes me feel like an absolute asshole.

She’s so lovely. Pretty. Friendly. Kind. And I basically stole her. Literally kidnapped her. Forced her to marry me.

Because she just passed out. Cradling my nut sack.

Woooow

I know he killed Lee. But Lee, sorry, Leland, was also bad. So does that make what King did less bad?

Awww we call this morally grey

So, basically, I’m fucked. Because I’m starting to like my husband.

he probably thinks I’m in here taking a poop. Whatever. That’s fine. Everyone poops. Murderers and kidnap victims alike.

But I do know that human trafficking is a step too far.

“The name’s Dominic, but you can call me Dom.” He extends his hand, and habit has me taking it. “Your husband sent me.”

Ummm but did he??

King might be a monster, but I’m the monster’s wife. And that might be enough to save me right now.