King of Wrath (Kings of Sin, #1)

by Ana Huang

One, Dante was going to be my fiancé. Two, we might kill each other before we ever made it to the altar.

you can have any woman you want.” “Can I?” I drawled. “What if I want you?” Her fingers curled into loose fists. “You don’t.” “You give yourself too little credit.” I rose and circled the desk until I stood close enough to see the pulse fluttering in her neck. How much faster would it beat if I wrapped her hair around my fist and pulled her head back? If I kissed her until her mouth bruised and hiked up her skirt until she begged me to fuck her? Heat ran to my groin.

Whether I liked her or not, Vivian was my fiancée, and I was getting damn tired of hearing her name leave his mouth.

I dipped my head toward hers. The sweet, slightly tart scent of apples stole into my lungs as I enunciated my next words with crisp precision. “I’m here because I made a deal with your father.” Vivian didn’t back away, but surprise and a hint of uncertainty surfaced in her eyes when I ran a leisurely knuckle over the gold chain around her neck.

My eyes dipped to her mouth. The heat from my gut spread to my stomach. She wore the same lipstick from the exhibition. Bold, red, and seductive, like a siren’s call amidst a sea of tranquil calm. I wanted to rub my thumb across her bottom lip and smear her perfect lipstick until she was nothing more than a beautiful mess. To peel back the composed mask and see the ugliness underneath.

Instead of waiting for her to make a decision sometime in the next century, I dipped my head and brushed my mouth over hers. Softly, just long enough to hear the camera shutter click again.

It was just supposed to be a quick kiss for the camera. I should pull back, but her mouth was so warm and soft I couldn’t resist another taste. And another. Before I knew it, my hand slid up of its own accord. My fingers sank into her hair and evoked an overwhelming urge to deepen the kiss. To wrap my fist around all that silk and tug until her mouth opened fully for me, letting me explore and plunder at my will.

Vivian’s laugh evoked a strange sensation in my chest. Heartburn? Investigate later.

The marriage bed. The honeymoon. The heat of Dante’s naked torso against mine and his mouth—

“You forget.” I pressed my fingers against her nape, forcing her to look up at me. “You’re my fiancée. Not Kai’s. Not anyone else’s. I don’t give a fuck how handsome they are or what type of accent they have. You’re mine, and no one…” I dipped my head, my lips brushing hers with each word. “Touches what’s mine.”

“I’m an asshole, yet you’re dripping all over my hand.” I kept my thumb on her clit while I slipped a finger inside her. “What does that say about you?”

I didn’t touch my cock even though it was so fucking hard it ached. I was too enraptured by the sight of Vivian’s arousal—flushed cheeks, parted lips, heavy-lidded eyes. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

His grip on my neck. His fingers filling me as I shamelessly rode his hand to orgasm. The desire in his eyes as he watched me come apart in his arms, so hot and potent it’d almost driven me to the peak again.

“Dante?” My heart gradually slowed as I set the vase down. “You’re not supposed to be back until tomorrow. What are…” I didn’t get the chance to finish my sentence before he crossed the room in two long strides and gripped my arms.

“Darling!” my mother cried. “Oh, it’s so wonderful to see you! My baby boy!” She rushed toward us and embraced me in a cloud of patchouli. “Have you lost weight? Are you eating enough? Sleeping enough? Having sex enough?”

“Yes,” I said. “She is.” Vivian’s eyes widened a fraction while my mother beamed harder.

Red rose petals blanketed the floor. A bucket of chilled champagne sat on the nightstand next to two crystal flutes while a box of chocolates, condoms, and towels folded into the shape of swans rested at the base of the canopy bed. A fucking couple portrait of me and Vivian hung on the wall opposite the bed beneath a glittery banner that read, Congratulations on your engagement!

If you need more condoms, let me know.” She winked at us before darting out the door.

“How does he look at me?” Janis smiled. “Like he never wants to look away.”

Awake. Half dressed. Together.

“On Thanksgiving?” Vivian smoothed body lotion over her arms, oblivious to my torture.

I tossed the shirt over the arm of a nearby chair and faced her again only to find her staring at me with wide eyes. “What are you doing?” “Getting ready for bed.” I cocked an eyebrow at her visible horror. “I sleep hot, mia cara. You wouldn’t want me to roast to death overnight, would you?”

“Touch Stella again, and you’ll no longer have a fiancée.”

“Next time you try to steal a man’s fiancée,” I said, my voice deadly calm despite the rage tunneling through me. “Don’t be stupid enough to do it in his house.” Heath whipped around. Surprise flashed through his eyes, but he didn’t get a chance to react before I hauled my arm back and slammed my fist into his face.

“I hate the idea of you touching anyone else, or anyone else touching you. I hate that other people can make you laugh in a way I can’t. I hate how I feel around you, like you’re the only person that can make me lose control when I. Don’t. Lose. Control.”

“But I do.” His voice dropped, turning ragged. “With you.”

“Because you’re mine.” His teeth scored my neck. “You wear my ring. You’ve come on my face and hand. You live in my head all the fucking time, even if I don’t want you to...” His palm slid to my hip, where his fingers dug grooves into my skin. “And God, I want to punish you for driving me so damn crazy. Every. Single. Day.”

“I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.” His voice turned harsh. “You”—thrust—”are”—thrust—”my”—thrust—”wife.”

my toes

Look in the mirror when I’m fucking you. You like this? Watching me wreck your pussy while you make a mess all over my cock?

I like you because of you, not because of your money. Even if you piss me off sometimes,”

It wasn’t my first time giving Dante a blowjob, but I’d never fully get used to how big he was. How thick and long.

“You can’t see the stars in New York,” Dante said. “So I brought the stars to you.”

“Dante Russo, are you trying to impress me?” “Depends.” He handed me a glass and watched as I took a small sip. “Is it working?”

snail on morphine—I

iconic

I’d fallen in love with Vivian Lau.

“Per te aspetterei per sempre, amore mio.” “Spero non ci vorrà così tanto.“