Page 83 of Vicious Souls

I push my plate away and look at Kingsley as the sun hits her back. I’ve never seen her so happy as the moment we stepped out onto the terrace and sat down to eat. And I never want to see that smile slip from her face or be the reason that it does.

“Is that something you’ve always wanted to do?” She asks, and I can see that she is genuinely interested in knowing.

I shake my head. “No. It was something I fell into on a technicality.”

She scrunches up her face and looks at me in confusion.

“My innate quest for absolution,” I explain. “I was involved in a car accident that killed one of my college friends,” I begin, looking away as I recall that time in my life.

“What happened?” she whispers.

“It was stupid. We were street racing. Speeding, and it started to rain. The road was slippery, but I didn’t stop. I just kept going. Until I’d wrapped the car around a pole and we all ended up on opposite sides of the road.”

“That sounds dreadful.” She looks at me with sympathetic eyes. She absorbs my pain, soaking in it until I feel it is barely there. She stands and comes to me, sits on my lap and puts her head to my chest. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It’s not a time I like to dwell on.”

“That’s understandable,” she says, lifting her hand to my cheek. She guides my face towards hers, telling me everything I need to know in the hard resolve present in her eyes. What was in the past is there for a reason. And there it would stay. “Will you ever go back?” She asks me.

I shake my head. “No. I have my absolution.”

71

KINGSLEY

Amonth after we’ve come back to Seattle, Dante and I have settled into a comfortable routine, and he’s even sent some of his suits and ties over to my place in case he ever needs a change of clothes. We meet in the penthouse almost daily for lunch, and by lunch I mean more than just what’s served on the dining table. He leaves his office daily at 6pm and heads to the penthouse, where he lets himself in, unwinds, and orders our dinner. If I’m not already home, I’m usually there a few minutes after him. Even if I’ve seen him at lunch, I can’t wait to see him again for dinner. We spend our nights deep in conversation, or curled up on my sofa, his had moving up and down my legs as we watch something mindless on TV. We eat, we sleep, we shower, and we fuck. Ruthlessly.

Dante dominates me in bed. He’s as ruthless between the sheets as he is in his business affairs. He shoots me a smirk as I sit in the armchair watching him undress. There’s nothing sexier than a businessman with a gun. He can be cut-throat when it comes to business, but he’s also capable of shedding blood when required. He’s taken to carrying his guns across his chest at all times now. It’s hot when he takes off his jacket and his holster is on display against his bulging muscles. Like next level melt your pants off inferno. I never thought I’d be attracted to someone in the life, but I’ve surpassed even my own expectations on this one. And attracted doesn’t even start to skim the edges of what I feel for this man.

My hands fall off the side of the arm rests casually. He eyes me, watching my reaction carefully as he starts to discard his clothes. He removes the guns, then the holster, and loosens his tie. His bedroom eyes undress me slowly. When he pulls the tie from around his neck, he walks toward me slowly and asks for my hands. He takes me back to a time when he handcuffed our hands together, effectively rendering me helpless. I already know where he is going and what he is going to do with this, and I can’t wait. I hold my hands out and he uses his tie to bind my hands together. I comply willingly, the wet patch between my legs begging for more.

He unbuttons his shirt and it falls open, drawing a gasp from my lips. Even with all his scars, I can’t imagine anything more beautiful than this man’s chest that’s built like a beguiling statue. He’s all rippling muscle and corded veins, and I can’t get enough of him. He removes his belt and unbuttons his pants, but leaves the zipper up, giving me another sexy snapshot to tantalise and fray my nerves. He looks around the room, eyes the scarf draped against the lampshade, and retrieves it. He comes back to stand in front of me, holding the scarf in his hands and pulling them apart to tug on the scarf.

I never know what to expect, but I never feel an ounce of fear when I’m with him. For although he’s hardcore when it comes to sex, he’s delicate when it counts. He always…always…gives me an out.

“I’m going to tie this scarf around your eyes,” he tells me.

“Mmhhmm.” I let him know that I’m ready and waiting.

“Your hands will remain bound.”

I moan, my voice literally begging for him.

“I’m going to take away your sense of touch and sight and I’m going to touch and kiss and caress every inch of your body. You’ll be helpless to stop me.” A warning.

“Who says I want to?” I’m panting.

“By taking away two of your senses, all your other senses will be heightened. And so will your pleasure.”

Take. Me. Now. I insist.

“Do you want to play this game, King?”

“I do,” I tell him, my voice raspy. I’m a combustible ball of fire about to erupt.

“Tell me what you want, King.” He tugs at the scarf.

“I want you.”

---