Page 19 of The King of Hearts

Patrick Arlington wasn’t the first man I’ve killed for my vicious angel. Over the past two years, there’s been a handful of others. Ones she doesn’t know about. All men who thought they could touch what was mine or who thought they could disrespect her in some way without consequences.

I leave the box on her desk and let Loki out of the closet. I put him in there while Savina was in the shower. It goes to show just how distracted she was that she didn’t notice her cat wasn’t around. He curls around my feet a couple of times before dashing across the room and jumping on the bed.

I found Loki wandering my property a year ago. I think he had some kind of infection because his eyes were crusted, and there was a greenish substance seeping from his nose. I had zero knowledge on how to care for an animal, so I took him to the Rivers’ estate, knowing Savina would take him in and have him seen by the island’s vet.

I slip out through the balcony doors, closing them behind me. I’m not concerned that she’ll show her father the present I gave her tonight. Instinct tells me she won’t. She’s too intrigued to stop the game before it really begins.

It doesn’t matter if she does. Her father and brothers are smart, not to mention the resources Alexander has owning The Raven Group are vast, but they won’t be able to find the answers they seek if they come searching for me. I’m too good at what I do, and I don’t leave trails behind.

Even so, I pull out my phone and send a message, just to keep the person on the other end apprised of the situation.

I pull my mask the rest of the way off and sling it over the railing to fall to the ground below. Walking to one side of the balcony, I scale the railing and grab the trellis beside it, mounted to the side of the house. The trellis is a security oversight. One in which Alexander should have foreseen. It gives perpetrators easy access to slip inside. The house has a security system, but those can be overridden. Case in point, when my feet are planted on the ground a moment later, I pull my phone from my back pocket, pull up what I need on the screen, then reset the alarm.

If it weren’t for my own security measures in place, I’d make Alexander aware of the risks.

But I am who I am—a man obsessed with a girl, one who won’t trust her safety with anyone except himself.

CHAPTER EIGHT

HER

As soon as consciousness comes, my eyes snap open, and I dart to a sitting position. The bright light of the sun filtering in through the balcony doors nearly blinds me, but I force my eyelids to stay open as I look around the room. There’s no one here. Not that I really expected him to be.

My shoulders fall forward; in relief or disappointment, I’m not sure. I flip the sheet off of me and swing around to set my feet on the floor. I’m still naked, not that I expected for that to have changed since last night.

The reminder that the stranger saw me this way last night brings heat to my face. I can’t believe I managed to fall asleep with him in the room in such a vulnerable position. He could have done anything to me. Not that if I were awake, I could have stopped him anyway. The man was massively tall and was stacked with muscles.

“Meow.”

I look down at Loki, who’s rubbing against my feet, his unseeing eyes lifted to me. Thinking back, I don’t remember seeing him in my room last night. He appears to be fine, but what did the devil do with him while he was assaulting me?

I get up from the bed and make him a bowl of food before going to the bathroom. I stop in front of the mirror over the sink and take stock of my reflection. I would think that if he did do something to me while I was unconscious, I would have woken up, but I don’t want to take any chances.

My eyes start at my face and slowly roll down my body, looking for anything that doesn’t look right. Marks or bruises of any sort. I turn and do the same to my backside.

Other than the flush of red on my cheeks at remembering what happened, there’s nothing. Not a mark or hint of discoloration. Not even on my neck where he held me against him, and not around the wrist he gripped to get me to drop the pencil.

I lean my ass against the edge of the sink, the edge digging into my skin, and look down. My eyes settle on the small patch of hair covering my pubic bone. My body may not bear any marks, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t actually touch me. He just didn’t do it firm enough to leave visual evidence.

Or, I swallow past the dryness in my throat, maybe he touched me in a place that my eyes couldn’t see in the mirror.

I guess there’s only one way to find out.

I widen my legs and with a shaky hand, I press my palm over my pussy. I lay it flat against my skin, just to see if there’s any sort of soreness or bruising. There’s not. If anything, my breath catches when my hand first makes contact. Like the area between my legs is hyper-sensitive.

It’s still not enough, so I pull my hand upward until my fingers graze my opening. I’ve played around with myself before, but I’ve never pushed my fingers inside or used a dildo, so myhymen is still intact. I’ve thought about breaking it, just so I could use toys. I desperately want to know what it feels like to be full of something inside me. But I’ve never gone through with it. One of my more vivid fantasies is of a man tearing through my innocence. Taking that part of me and ruthlessly claiming it for his own.

My stomach quivers, and my breath stutters out when the tip of one of my fingers slides just inside the opening. I’m wet. Soaking wet. Like, enough that it’s starting to coat my thighs.

I bite the cushion of my bottom lip to hold back a moan. I push a little more inside, and my finger meets the thin skin of my hymen. I press my finger against it until I feel a little tinge of discomfort.

Still a virgin.

I sag against the sink, the tip of my finger still inside me. I pull it out, but instead of removing my hand all together, I slide it up until it meets the little button of my clit.

I’m horny and needy, and I want to feel good after the hell I went through last night.

Lifting my leg, I angle it back so I can put my foot on the toilet to open myself up some more. I press one hand on the counter, because I’m afraid I may lose my balance, and let my other hand go to work. I swirl my finger around my clit and a bolt of electricity jolts through me.

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