Page 14 of Vendetta

“Nico.” The door opens and Preston is there, looking alarmed.

My eyes snap to him. “What now?” I growl.

“Shit’s hit the fan.” He says showing me his phone and the news alert that’s flashing across it.

“What the fuck?” I snap. “How are we hearing this from the press?”

Preston shakes his head holding the door for me to walk out. I don’t even try to hide my erection. I don’t give a fuck if they can see.

“We’ve got cars ready.”

I grunt. Fat lot of good that will do now. They’ve attacked one of our convoys. Stolen our merchandise. Does he really think simply showing up and saying a few words will fix this?

Blaine is there, waiting. I can see from his face he’s just as pissed as me.

We walk out of the house. Blaine and Preston just behind me and as I get in the back of my car I glance up thinking I might see her. Only I know I won’t. My room is at the back of the house and she’s no doubt already wondering what’s keeping me so long.

I shake my head. My dick is still throbbing. Aching. I’m half tempted to ignore this entire situation and storm back inside but I know my own pleasure will have to wait.

Eleri will have to wait.

If she’s truly to be the queen I want her to be then this is a good lesson in learning that I will not always be able to put her needs first. And better we start off this way, with no false promises. No pretence. Just her sleeping alone, in my bed, while my cock leaks out with a want only she will satisfy.

Her

He doesn’t come back.

I sit, I wait for what feels like hours. In my stupidity I thought he’d return before it got late but the whole night passes and there’s nothing. It’s not that I’m upset that he left me, it’s not that it feels like he’s abandoned me though in a way he has, I’m more concerned for where he is. What would keep him away when he so obviously wanted to stay?

While he was gone I went through the wardrobes. Not to be nosy but simply because I needed to wear something.

One side was full of his clothes, his suits, his shirts, everything tailored to fit his body. His shoes were polished, lined up neatly beneath like some sort of statement I can’t fathom.

But the other side, is full of dresses, tops, skirts, you name it. It’s all in my size. All with tags still on. Beneath are dozens of high heels. And in the drawers are enough pieces of lingerie to fill a Victoria Secrets catalogue. I blush as I pull some of the panties out. Their lacy, sheer, sexy as hell.

And again, all of it is in my size.

How long has this man had this planned? Because that’s what it feels like. A plan. A set up. My heart is thumping because this can’t be a coincidence. There’s no way this is all some spontaneous, knee jerk reaction. He’s up to something. I just can’t get my head around what.

My queen. That’s what he called me.

Those were the exact words he used.

But I’m not his queen. I can’t be. And yet all of this behaviour, everything he has done since he confronted me two days ago says what his intentions are.

I didn’t want to sleep in his bed. It felt weird to be in his space without him. Too intimate. Though in truth I think it would feel even stranger to be here with him. I barely know the man. Until two days ago I haven’t said one word to him.

And yet as soon as I got under the covers, as soon as the smell of him overwhelmed me, I drifted off into the deepest, heaviest slumber I’ve had in a long time.

So now I’m lying, wearing nothing but a satin slip that was laid out pointedly for me to see, in his bed. As if any of this was normal.

I roll over, trying to shut the stupid thoughts in my head up.

“Morning darling.” He says softly, his hand stroking my cheek as I gasp.

I didn’t even hear him come in. I didn’t even realise he was here. The man is a ghost. A god damn demon.

He chuckles at my shock. “Have I scared you again?” He says.

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