Page 2 of King of War

He tips his head to the ceiling and groans. “Like you’re trying to tempt God himself into hell.”

“Do you like it then?” I ask, doing a little twirl. “None of the guys downstairs seemed to notice it at all.”

He stands abruptly, and my entire body sizzles with nervous energy. “That’s because you’re in my house, Rayne. No guy would dare even look at you without asking my permission first.”

That makes no sense at all. “By that logic, all of the other girls here are in your house too, and nobody’s asking your permission to do anything. Pretty sure I walked into an orgy in the pool house earlier.” I’m also pretty sure at least one of his other brothers was involved in it too, although I didn’t hang around long enough to find out.

Enzo takes a few more steps toward me, the apex predator toying with his prey. At six foot three, he towers over me in the most deliciously dangerous way, and it’s enough to make my knees tremble. Enzo Medici is a god, and I’ve been in lust, and probably in love with him since I was fifteen years old, when he punched a guy in the jaw for saying my ass looked fat. “None of those other girls are you though, Rayne.”

“So?” My voice wobbles a little. He’s always been super protective over me, just as he is with his younger brothers. I’m one of the family, as his mom so often tells me—especially now that I actually live here in his house. I don’t know what I’d have done without Angelo’s friendship and Mama Medici’s love these past seven years. It brings a lump to my throat, and I swallow past it because now is not the time to think about Enzo being anything like a big brother to me.

He trails a single fingertip over my cheekbone. Somehow I feel his touch directly between my thighs, which seems a physical impossibility. I came in here full of confidence and righteous expectation, and now… Now I might melt into a puddle. “So I don’t give a damn if anyone looks at, touches, or fucks any of the other girls who are here tonight.”

My heart jumps, fluttering behind my breastbone. He’s never spoken to me so crudely before. I’ve heard him curse, for sure, but never like that. I squeeze my thighs together, trying to quell the throbbing between them. It does nothing. “W-what do you mean?”

His head cocks to the side, and his eyes narrow to thin slits. “Have you never wondered why guys don’t ask you out again after the first date, or why they don’t try to do anything more than kiss you?”

Of course I’ve wondered, and came to only one logical conclusion. “Because they don’t think I’m hot?”

His brow furrows in a frown and it somehow makes him look even more handsome than usual. “Surely, you’re not that obtuse?”

Okay, well that was unnecessary. “I’m not obtuse at all, smartass. I think I’m kind of cute actually, but I can only go on the evidence available to me. Guys just don’t seem into me. Girls sometimes are, but I’m not that way inclined. I did kiss Ellen Casey once though, at her sweet sixteenth. It was okay I guess, but, not really for me.”

And now he looks like he’s really pissed at me. He mutters a curse under his breath and then takes a half step closer, his chest almost bumping against my boobs. “Why did you come up here, Rayne?”

I screw my eyes closed, all of my grape vodka shot bravado melting away now. This was kind of stupid. No, scratch that. It was very stupid. What the hell was I thinking?

Enzo grabs hold of my jaw, and at the fresh touch of his fingers on my skin, a bolt of lightning races up my spine. “Rayne?”

Even the way he says my name makes my panties damp. He’s so dominant and commanding. So everything I have always wanted. I open my eyes, find him staring at me. It’s now or never, girl! “You made me a promise, remember?”

His jaw works, and now I’m wondering why on earth he would remember such a thing. It was probably inconsequential to him. It was my sixteenth birthday, and I got fall-down drunk. When Enzo was driving me home, I stupidly confessed to him that I was desperate to lose my virginity. So much so that I was even considering sneaking out to Joseph Bertelli’s house later that night and taking him up the offer he’d made a few hours before, to break in my virgin pussy. Enzo had seemed really angry with me, but then he’d grabbed my jaw, just like he’s doing right now, and he’d made me promise to wait for the right person. And when I told him I was worried the right person might not like me back and I’d never have sex, he promised that he’d be my first if I wanted him to—but not until I turned eighteen.

And so here I am. Acting like a total idiot.

“I remember, cuore mio.”

My heart.

Did I say that, or did he? It was definitely him, wasn’t it? Or did someone slip hallucinogens into those vodka Jell-O shots? It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened at a party I’ve been at. “S-so, I’m eighteen now. And I’m still…” Too mortified to say the word, I stop speaking.

He brushes the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. “Still a virgin? Yeah, I know.”

How does he know that? I could totally have lost my virginity without him knowing about it. In fact, it’s kind of strange that he thinks he’d know. Strange but somehow very very hot. “So that’s why I’m here.”

He’s quiet. Too quiet. I fidget, feeling more of a moron with each second that passes uncomfortably between us. He’s staring at me, like he’s wrestling with his conscience, or else forcing himself to suck it up and deliver on the promise he made. But there’s something else in his eyes too, a hunger perhaps. I’ve seen it before, yet always convinced myself I’d imagined it. Because Enzo Medici doesn’t look at girls like me that way. Nobody looks at me that way.

He edges closer, and now our chests are pressed together. “Rayne…” He grunts my name like it pains him to say it. “You have no idea what you’re asking me.”

“Yes, I do,” I insist. I’m certain that I want this, and only with him. I’ve dreamed of this night for two long years. Fantasized about it every chance I got. And there have even been times when I’ve caught him watching me when he thinks I’m not looking, when I wondered if he ever thinks about it too. Of course he doesn’t though. Enzo can, and frequently does, have any woman he wants.

His fingers flex on my jaw, tightening their grip. “You want me to fuck you?”

Dear sweet mother of all that is holy and sacred, yes! I nod, too unsure of my voice to say that aloud.

“I need your words, Rayne,” he growls.

“Yes, I do.”