Page 27 of Royal's Reign
Not after we’d connected the way we had. After we’d shared those intimate moments.
He’d had his fingers, his tongue inside me, pleasured me until I’d had the most shattering orgasm. When I’d taken him into my mouth, the sounds he’d made as he had hardened between my lips. Was that a sham? Could it have been any hot mouth wrapped around his cock?
Even though these poisonous thoughts bleed into my head, the rational part of my brain says that is not the truth.
‘Watching you come is as breathtaking as the sun setting over the sea, and as hot as the desert sun.’
That’s what he said, but was it just sexual banter that he vomits on any of the club chicks?
‘My dick is still hard from the remnant of your sweet taste on my tongue.’
The way he’d palmed my cheek, his kiss. I don’t believe that he didn’t feel the same all-consuming electric charge that I felt too.
With my arms tightly wrapped around my upper body, I lean against the wall between the nail bar and coffee shop, both closed up. Once more I shiver, my body cold, the signage above the coffee shop feeding my need for a hot drink to warm my bones.
There’s one thing for sure. I need to go back.
As I push up away from the wall, I see Nytro and Ink across the other side of the road as they coming flying out of the same side road I had taken.
Ink points at me, his lips moving, no doubt alerting Nytro of his visual on me. They both have eyes on me. I wave and start to move towards the curb to go join them, but my view is quickly blocked by a black van coming to a sudden stop in front of me. The front passenger door flies open along with the sliding side door. Before I get a chance to react, a hand comes from behind and over my mouth, soft fabric covers my lips. Two men inside the van jump out and grab my arms, and all three of them push me inside the van. A sweet-smelling odor attacks my senses seconds before I’m pushed to the floor, my knees buckle, my head pounds, eyes become heavy, and as I hit the cold metal floor of the van, darkness invades me.
Royal
I’m aboutto fire up my ride when I feel my cell vibrate against my ass. I snatch it from the pocket and accept the call without even checking the caller ID.
“Speak!” I growl down the phone.
I knew I should have gone after her, I’d also known what I accused her of was absolute bullshit. I’d lashedout because I was riddled with guilt, anger and utter confusion.
Guilt at betraying Grinder. Anger at the thought of another man, a sick fuck, wanting to own her. Confused by the powerful need that had hit me like a freight train to possess her too. I wanted her to be mine.
I just hope to God that this call is what I need to hear. That she’s safe.
“Shit, Royal...” Ink rapidly splutters. “Giorgia…”
“Where is she?” I bark at hearing her name.
“They’ve taken her.”
Without hesitation, I bark out my orders.
“Get the fuck back to the club house.” I cut the call and pocket my phone. With the flats of my hands, I slam them against the handlebars. Grinder sits watching me from where he stands beside his ride. My actions are enough to switch his expression and body language from anger at his younger sisters stupid and reckless behavior to pure fear.
As soon as Ink alerted us Gio had left the safety of the clubhouse without protection, we’d sent out every available brother to track her down. Both Grinder and I had knocked heads, picking out the few places we could think that she might go, before heading out to our rides. The call from Ink had stopped us in our tracks.
“Get everyone in. I’m calling Church and I want every fucker there.” I shouted over to him. Immediately,his phone is in his hand and he’s banging out a message on the group chat.
I push my way back into the club and head straight for the bar. A clear head is what I need, but the fire of a single shot of bourbon coursing through my veins will temper down my anger, and allow me to think rationally. Knee-jerk reactions in this situation could be catastrophic. If I hadn’t jumped the gun in the first place, then Giorgia would be here, safe, and in my arms.
I shake my head, swallow the lump in my throat and the threat of losing my control, and lean over the bar. Snatching up a glass and bottle of Bullet, I pour myself a shot and throw it back. I slam them both back onto the bar top before turning and marching towards the double doors that leads to our chapel. When I slide into the throne like, high-backed wooden chair at the head of the table, I no longer feel unworthy of my position as president of this club. For the first time, I truly believe that I’m ready, deserving and that I, Noah King, am right where I should be.
I fire off a quick message to Ink, telling him where I am and to come join me. No doubt it will put the fear of death into him. Prospects don’t normally get to come into our sacred place. Not unless they’re in the shit, needed for something specific or being made a member and I’m sure as shit ain’t patching in any fuckers today. We have more important issues to deal with.
“Fuck, Prez. I’m so fucking sorry,” Ink blusters ashe bursts in through the door a few minutes later. “It happened so quickly, we didn’t get a chance to stop them.” He takes a step back out of the door and tosses his phone into the wicker basket that sits on the side. The place all except me, deposit our cells before stepping into Church. He sucks in a deep lungful of air. “We saw her from across the street…”
“Stop.” I hold my hand up to him. “Wait until everyone’s here. No point in repeating it.”
“Right,” his head tips downwards. “I should have gone after her.” The fact that he repeats word by word my own self-reprimand is not missed. “Not let her out of my sight. Fuck… It’s my fault.”
