Page 36 of King of War

He doesn’t seem to take that as a threat because nothing in his demeanor changes at all. His posture remains relaxed, almost amused. “I will not have to make move on him, Enzo. He is desperately clinging to power, and he will sacrifice you to get it. The only decision left to make is whether you will let him.” He barks something in Russian to the goon in the passenger seat, who jumps out of the car. A second later my door is opened.

Ivan winks at me. “I look forward to our next meeting, King.”

I shrug off the nickname that feels too close to the bone right now and climb out of the car. Despite having no reason to trust Ivan, I suspect everything he just said is true. And that means the don and I are no longer fighting on the same side.

Chapter

Fifteen

RAYNE

Ican’t settle. Can’t stop pacing the hallways. I did a little yoga on the rooftop terrace but was too distracted to hold a pose. I tried a book—a surefire way to keep myself occupied—but I read the same paragraph seventeen times and the words still didn’t sink in. I tried watching my favorite comfort TV, but even The Golden Girls couldn’t pull me out of this funk.

I’m a woman on the edge.

And I’m also so angry with myself I could explode. That I allowed Enzo to even touch me is bad enough, but to let him kiss me! Ugh! I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand like it might remove the memory of last night. Of course it doesn’t. I’m still able to taste him, still can recall the pressure of his lips against mine and the feel of his tongue in my mouth. To my mortification, and as much as I’ve tried to convince myself otherwise, I did kiss him back. Damn, it felt so good to be kissed by him again. As soon as I came to my senses, I kneed him in the nuts and got the hell away from him, but still… Before that… I enjoyed it. I really enjoyed it. So much that I was considering sliding my hand into his pants and taking a hold of that monster cock I could feel digging into me.

Yes, I came to my senses. I should forgive myself for my minor lapse in judgment, but that would be so much easier to do if I hadn’t been walking around with the self-control of a pyromaniac in a match factory ever since. I could have taken care of myself last night, of course. I’m no stranger to the art of self-pleasure, and I’m damn good at it, but then I would have to confront the fact that Enzo’s kiss had made me wetter than any guy has made me for as long as I can recall. I felt it, obviously. My panties were damp enough to prove that, but if I’d gotten myself off, I would have actually confirmed it. And in my head, it would have been partly Enzo’s doing, seeing as how it was his kiss that started this intense, persistent ache between my thighs. The one I cannot distract myself from no matter how hard I try.

I glance at the open door of the room I’m staying in. The pristine white sheets on the bed—smooth and uncreased and practically begging for someone to defile them. I chew on my lip. Nothing else has worked. And even if I do think of Enzo’s stupid kiss at any point, it won’t mean anything. This a physiological reaction. My body simply needs a little release. That’s all it will be. A necessary relief. It can’t be good for a girl to go this long without an orgasm, can it?

I succumb, closing the door securely behind me before I lay down on the bed. I hitch up my cami top, my hand trembling like this is something I haven’t done a million times before. But in Enzo’s house, it somehow feels forbidden. There’s every chance he has a camera in here somewhere, that he’s watching me right now from some secret lair. Even that isn’t enough to deter me though. I spread my thighs and slip my hand into my shorts, sending up a quick prayer to the universe that he doesn’t come home before I’m done because it would be mortifying if he heard me.

My fingers slide easily through my wet center, and I slowly circle my clit with the pad of my middle finger, applying firm pressure because I want this over with quickly. I close my eyes and picture that hot fireman from the movie I watched a few nights ago, and the way the sweat dripped down his abs. Annoyingly, he morphs into Enzo and I blink him away.

I maintain a steady pressure and pace and recall the scene from my last romance book, where her vampire mates all took her at once. Pleasure ignites in my veins. My body is trembling. I can picture their hands on her. Their mouths. The way one bit her neck. Enzo biting my neck. His dark stubble grazing my sensitive skin. Enzo’s strong hands and the way he used to do this to me, always knowing exactly where to touch. His strong fingers. His mouth. That kiss—how I melted into his arms and could have stayed there forever. How I imagined him lifting me up and driving his thick cock inside me without even asking for permission.

My orgasm grows closer, thighs clenching as my release builds. What if he walked in here right now? Would he be disgusted? No, more likely he’d tear off my shorts and finish the job himself. Work those skilled fingers over my clit, over and over, slide one inside me, and then another, fucking me with them while my cum runs like a river into his palm. How he’d hold himself over me, warm breath washing over my skin. His powerful muscles vibrating with the effort of holding himself back. Because he wouldn’t take me yet. Not until he watched me come undone for him first. Not until I was ready for him. Even when he was angry, he was always considerate. Always careful even when he was rough and unhinged.

No man has ever known my body as well as he did. Probably still does. So I lean into it, and I imagine it’s his hands on me instead of my own, purely for the fantasy of it and not because I want it. And the pleasure builds to a crescendo before washing over me in a long, rolling wave and I’m left trembling. Panting. Wanting. Because while it brought me some relief. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t him.

The familiar sound of the elevator doors opening signals he’s back and my heart stutters in my chest. Quickly, I fix my clothes just in case he decides to come in here. I hear his footsteps approaching down the hallway. Despite the orgasm, my pussy still aches for more.

Stop being a slut, I tell her. We hate Enzo Medici!

Still, I find myself climbing off the bed and heading to the hallway to meet him.

Chapter

Sixteen

ENZO

By the time I get home my mind is racing with information and questions I’m sure I could figure out the answer to if I could just clear my mind and think. But there’s no clarity to be had when I’m filled with this much frustration, not to mention anger at my own stupidity. Have I let Carmine manipulate me all these years? If him and Vinny were cooking something up with the Russians, then why the hell wasn’t I told about any of it?

When I walk into my penthouse, I’m like an inferno, ready to explode on the next unfortunate soul who happens to cross my path. I stalk down the hallway, and she comes walking out of her room at the same time, almost bumping into me.

Her eyes land on mine, dark and needy, and every sane thought in my head goes quiet. I know that look. I’ve seen it on her a thousand times before, back when she was mine and neither of us had the sense to be careful with each other. For one second, I wait for her to look away. To remember she hates me and save us both. She doesn’t.

Something in me snaps. I move on instinct, pinning her flat to the wall, one hand wrapping around her throat as the other claims her ass and drags her against me. She gasps, but she doesn’t push me away. When I squeeze, possessive and rough, she lets out a soft, helpless little moan that obliterates my self-control.

Our mouths clash together, and I kiss her, nipping at her lips and sliding my tongue into her mouth. Fuck me, she tastes amazing. Like strawberries and bad decisions. She kisses me back with equal ferocity, less like affection and more like a collision of two people who want to hurt each other and can’t figure out whether this counts. To prevent another knee to my dick, I wedge mine between her thighs, pinning her in place. She grinds against me, and now my cock is about to bust through the zipper of my pants.

She’s wearing those tiny little pajamas again. I slide my hand inside her shorts, find her wearing no panties, and almost come in my boxers. She spreads her legs a little wider, like she’s inviting me to explore. So I do, gliding my fingers between her thighs.

She’s soaked.

I’m fucked.