Page 3 of The King of Hearts

After the last spurt of cum leaves me, I shift backward and jack her legs back so her ass sticks up in the air. I put my face close to her pussy. Clearish liquid seeps from the small hole, and that just won’t fucking do. Using my pinky, I push as much of my cum back inside her as I can without breaking her hymen. I holdmy pinky inside her for several moments, blocking my semen from seeping out. I want her to stay filled with my cum.

Once I’m satisfied, I remove my pinky and let her legs fall back to the bed. I crawl up her body, my wet, semi-hard shaft gliding across the skin of her belly. I lean over her face and push my pinky inside her warm mouth, wiping it across her tongue until our combined juices are gone. She may not know what it is, but she’ll wake in the morning to the taste of my cum and her release in her mouth.

I get up from the bed and redress, stuffing her ruined thong in my pocket. Walking to the en suite bathroom, I wet a rag and bring it with me back to the bedroom. From my pants pocket, I pull out the things I brought with me. I gently press the rag against her pussy and ass, cleaning away the mess we made that’s leaked out of her. Next, I twist off the lid on the jar of soothing numbing cream and dip my finger inside. I start at her clit and massage the cream into her skin, working my way down to her asshole. Come the morning, the cream will have done its work and soothed away any soreness she may have experienced.

I was rough with her, and while I like the thought of her being sore in the morning, I don’t want her to be too suspicious yet. She won’t remember me being here. At the most, it’ll be like a hazy dream she can’t fully visualize. If I leave too much evidence behind, like say an abused clit, raw pussy, tender ass, or copious amounts of semen, she’ll become suspicious, and I’m not ready to reveal myself. All of the pieces aren’t in place yet.

Picking up the syringe I pulled from my pocket, I uncap it and push the needle into one of the prominent veins on the back of her hand. Her blood pressure is still elevated from her release a few moments ago, so her vein bulges out nicely, making it easier to do what I need to do. Once I’m finished, I pocket the needle and numbing cream and toss the used rag in the clothes basket in her closet.

From my other pocket, I pull out a pair of thongs that match the ones I tore from her body earlier. I slide them up her legs, tucking the string between her ass crack, and dropping my head to kiss one cheek. Then I lift her body so she’s lying all the way on her pillow, draping the sheet and duvet back over her body.

Bending over her, I grip her chin and turn her face toward me. I press a kiss against her lips, running my tongue along the seam. I can taste her and me and it makes my cock twitch.

“Soon, my little angel. So fucking soon,” I whisper against her lips.

After I let Savina’s cat out of the closet, I make my way to the balcony doors, slipping out the same way I entered.

CHAPTER TWO

HER

Irelease a yawn and lift my arms over my head, feeling the muscles in my back and legs stretch and ease some of the tension. There’s an ache in my joints, especially my hips, meaning I must have slept fitfully last night. It happens sometimes. Randomly, I’ll wake with a sore body and faint memories of tossing and turning.

I always attribute it to the hazy erotic dreams I have. They’re always the same. I watch from a hidden corner as a shadowed man breaks into my room. I’m alone, asleep in my bed, unaware of the nefarious presence lurking nearby. As I slumber, tucked safely beneath the sheets, the devil approaches. I watch from the corner as he looks down at the version of me on the bed. I look so innocent and vulnerable laid out before him. That’s when he pounces, pure lust taking control of his actions. He rips the sheet from my body and tears off my clothes. As I lay there unconscious, he crawls between my legs and forces his cock inside me. The whole time, I just lay there, remainingunconscious, and from my hidden corner, I’m unable to move, to stop the violent act.

I must have a screw loose because those dreams don’t frighten me like they probably should. In fact—I press my legs together and feel the slickness between them—I always wake from them soaked between my legs, with a needy ache, and feeling empty in places I shouldn’t. I don’t let myself ponder too long on the fact that I wish they would last longer, and the visions were more vivid. What kind of woman dreams about being taken advantage of by a stranger while she sleeps? Even worse, is aroused by the idea?

I hate myself and feel disgusted that I want to fully remember the dream.

Unconsciously, I close my eyes, and a shiver races through my body when I feel the ghost of hands touching me. Sliding between my legs, touching my slick folds, tweaking my clit. My pussy grows slicker, mixing with the juices already coating my thighs, and my tongue darts out to lick my lips. I frown when something slightly salty and bitter hits my tastebuds.

There’s a slight dip on the bed, momentarily distracting me from my thoughts. I smile when Loki makes himself known by putting his two front paws on my stomach.

“There’s my handsome boy,” I coo and scratch my fingers through his soft hair. “How did you sleep?”

He looks at me, or pretends to, and lets out a little meow. I’ve had Loki for a year. He was a stray that wandered onto our property last summer, crying his sad little heart out. According to Dr. Finley, the island’s veterinarian, due to the untreated Herpes virus he must have had as a kitten, his eyes were damaged and are covered with a permanent white, clearish film. He also has no teeth. They had to be removed due to a rare gum disease that’s untreatable.

I snuggle with him for a few minutes before he squirms to be let free, making it loud and clear with his insistent meows that it’s breakfast time. With a laugh, I pop a kiss on top of his head and let him go. He darts over to his food bowl and waits patiently. Since he has no teeth, his diet is strictly wet food.

Once he’s fed and happily gnawing on his food, I pad across the light-gray plush carpet to my bathroom. I turn on the shower and step under the rainfall showerhead. It feels good against my sore muscles, and I let my head fall back on my shoulders. I pour some soap on my loofa and slide it over my body, washing away the residue of sweat and the evidence of arousal from my thighs. It feels good when I scrape the rough material over my pussy, but I don’t linger there too long.

After patting myself dry, I twist my hair up into a microfiber towel and lather on some of my favorite apple and vanilla-scented lotion. I leave the bathroom and go to the big walk-in closet. I choose a pleated teal skirt that goes to my knees and a cream silk blouse with capped sleeves. Slipping my feet into a pair of flats, I leave the closet and take a seat at my vanity. I keep my makeup to a minimum. I’ve never been one of those girls who likes to coat their face in cosmetics, preferring a light layer of foundation, soft pink blush, and a few swipes of mascara to thicken my eyelashes. I pop my lips in the mirror after I’ve applied a peach lip gloss.

After I dry my hair, it falls in natural brown waves down my back, stopping just above my butt. I spritz on a matching apple and vanilla scent before I deem myself ready. As soon as the doors open, Loki dashes out ahead of me.

As I descend the curved stairs in my family home, the area between my legs feels extra sensitive, reminding me of my hazy dream. Since my memories are fuzzy, my mind runs wild with the possibilities. I’ve always had a very active imagination. My art studio, which is connected to my bedroom, can attest to that.But it’s my secret projects, the ones no one but me sees, that show just how dirty my mind can be.

I pause outside Dad’s office when I hear raised voices come from inside. It’s Dad’s, and he doesn’t sound happy. I move closer to the door and press my ear against it, taking extra care not to make a sound. I shouldn’t be snooping, but I’m naturally curious.

“I want the bastard found, Raf,” Dad’s deep baritone demands. “And I don’t need to stress how that needs to happenbeforehe makes his next move.”

“It’ll be done. We’ve got men searching every inch of the island, including the coasts,” Rafaele replies, sounding just as pissed as Dad. “How do you want him dealt with?”

“Take him to The Reef. I’ll take care of him there.”

Goose bumps pop up on my arms at the mention of The Reef. I don’t know who the guy is they’re searching for or what he did, but it must have been bad. The Reef is the lighthouse on the opposite side of Hollow’s Reef, and every inch of its walls have been covered in blood. It’s where people go to die.

“This stays between us for now,” Dad says, lowering his voice so much I have to press my ear harder against the door. “I don’t want Caroline or Savina knowing about it until he’s found. I’ll inform Bishop and Cassio of the situation.”

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