Page 110 of LA King

He pulls me into his arms and seals his mouth over mine with a kiss so intense that it takes my breath away. Then he’s scooping me into his arms and carrying me to the bed. I giggle as he pulls off my skinny jeans and tosses them on the floor.

“You know that I love you more than anything in the world, don’t you, princesa?” he growls.

“Yes, but I think you might have to stop calling me princess now that you know I’m really not one.”

He crawls over me and holds himself up on his forearms. “You’ll always be my princesa, Alana, even when I fuck you like a puta.”

I close my eyes as his words wash over me. I do love his filthy mouth.

“But never forget that in my heart, and to everyone in the outside world, eres mi reina.”

I really do need to learn my husband’s first language. “What does that mean?”

He cups my jaw, his touch reverent. “You are my queen.”

“Hmm. Alana Montoya, Queen of LA. I could get used to that.”

“You’d better.” He kisses me again, making my head spin.

What have I ever done to earn the devotion of a man as incredible as this one?

I might not be his property, but he owns me anyway. Body, heart, and soul.

Chapter

Fifty-Eight

Alana

The light from the TV screen flickers over my husband’s handsome face, and I can’t help but smile. It’s been four days since I returned from my trip to New York, and we haven’t left the house once.

Sharing the desk in his office, we both did some work from home. We could barely go a few hours without him pulling me onto his lap and kissing me until I felt dizzy. When we aren’t working, we swim in the pool or make love in every room and on every surface of the house.

Now, we’re sitting together on the sofa in the den, watching TV. I absentmindedly curl a strand of his hair around my finger, and he turns to me.

“You okay, princesa?” he asks, his voice as smooth as chocolate, sending shivers down my spine.

“Better than that.” I press my lips to his. He runs his warm hand up my thigh, under my dress, and up to my ass cheek. What he finds there makes him pull back and fake scowl. “Panties?”

I stifle a giggle. I put them on half an hour ago and have been waiting for him to discover them. “Oops.”

He growls, and I can’t hold back my laughter anymore. “Are you deliberately defying me, Alana?”

“Maybe?”

He moves so quickly I barely have time to take a breath before he has me pinned to the sofa, his forearms on either side of my head as he holds onto my wrists. “You’re playing a very dangerous game,” he says, his eyes full of fire and a wicked grin dancing across his lips.

A loud cough disturbs us, and Alejandro scowls, but my heart stutters. His guards never interrupt us.

Alejandro pushes himself up onto his knees, still straddling me on the sofa. “What?” he snaps.

“There’s a young lady at the gate, Boss,” Jacob says. “She refuses to leave.”

I scramble to sit up. Young lady? What the hell? “Who is she?”

“She says her name is Lucy,” Jacob answers. “And actually, she’s demanding to see you, Mrs. Montoya.”

Relief washes over me that it isn’t some ex-girlfriend of Alejandro’s but is quickly followed by a wave of panic that Lucy might be in more trouble.