Page 99 of Vengeful King

The ride back isn’t as quick as I would like. The day’s traffic has already started to crowd the roads, and every stoplight makes me uneasy with anticipation. I just want to be back home.

Katrina doesn’t talk. She half-dozes, obviously exhausted from the encounter. But she never lets go of my hand.

As soon as we’re back and the door shuts behind us, she turns to me, tilting her chin up to meet my gaze. There’s worry in her eyes, regret when she touches a cut on my face.

She starts to say something. Maybe it’s an apology, maybe something else. “Your—”

I don’t care. I don’t care about my injuries; they can wait. I can survive them. Right now, I can’t survive without her. So I grab her, pull her close, and kiss her.

It’s hard and hungry, more forceful than I initially meant it to be. But I am hungry; I want to feel her, want to know that she’s still whole and with me.

I just keep thinking about the awful moment when I reached the roof, when I thought that she was already dead.

I pull back and see she’s dazed, flushed from the kiss. I hold her jaw in my hand, dropping my head a little as I growl, “I can’t fucking lose you.”

I almost wish I could be the kind of bastard that just keeps his woman locked away from the world, for only him to see. But I know it’s wrong and I would never do that to Katrina. Not after she’s spent most of her life hidden away from the world, struggling and suffering.

So I do the only thing I can.

“You can’t do shit like that again,” I say lowly. “Do you understand?”

She’s breathless, staring up at me. But as I hold her there, I see realization in her eyes. I can see her understanding just how much I mean it, how much I can’t go through this again.

I don’t want to lose her. I can’t lose her. I’ll do anything to protect her—but I need her to be safe, and I need her to tell me everything. I can’t have her run off like this again.

She nods, but that’s not enough. I’m not satisfied—my worry isn’t satisfied, the possessiveness boiling in my chest isn’t satisfied.

I want her safe in my hands only, and I need her to understand that. We’ve come this far and she hasn’t run away. I need to know that if she wants this, if she wants to be with me, she understands.

The life I’ve lived in the mafia is dangerous and rough. The woman by my side needs to know the risk, understand the games we play. I need someone who will trust me to do what needs to be done.

I step back from Katrina; I can feel my chest still heaving with adrenaline from the fight. I know what I need and want; I just have to know if she wants it, too.

Beyond needing her to understand, beyond needing her to promise to be careful, I need to feel her body. I need to see her fall apart in my hands. I want to be rough. I want her to know that pleasure and pain with me are just the same.

I know she’s loved it before. I need to know that she still wants it now.

“Strip,” I say, the word a short command. “And put your hands on the window.”

CHAPTER35

Katrina

Strip and put your hands on the window.

My heart is racing. I can feel my skin flush, feel my breathing get shallow and short. All the adrenaline and fear I’ve been feeling dissolves, replaced instead by the need to feel him. It’s so intense that I can’t think straight for a few moments.

I’ve always wanted him. But now, in the aftermath of nearly dying, I want him even more.

I know he’s pissed, and I know what his punishments can be like. But this is different. I don’t fear what he’ll do; I don’t fear being intimate with him. I crave it.

I want his roughness more than I’ve wanted anything else before I met him. I want the way he makes me feel when he fucks me hard, when he’s not trying to be gentle or sweet. I don’t need that.

I need this.

I strip slowly. I can feel my pulse throb with every piece of clothing I remove and discard, dropping things onto the floor without a care for what I’m doing. I watch his eyes darken as I get undressed; I can almost see what he’s thinking, what he wants to do.

I’m barely breathing by the time I’m naked. I walk over to the window and bend over; I feel exposed, but it makes me shiver with anticipation.

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