Page 84 of King of War

RAYNE

After we left Carmine’s, Enzo drove us straight back to his penthouse while his brothers stayed behind to tidy up any loose ends. I’m glad that I got to confront him, to look that devious sack of excrement in the eye and tell him that I know exactly what he did. It took a lot of therapy to learn to deal with what Ethan did to me, and even more to get past how Enzo treated me afterward, but none of it was as cleansing as looking Carmine in the eye and snuffing out his last flicker of hope.

“Brandy?” Enzo asks and I realize he’s joined me in the den. We both showered when we got back. I changed into one of his T-shirts while he’s wearing only gray shorts, his dark hair wet and his skin glistening with moisture like he didn’t dry himself off completely. In any circumstance, the man is a walking snack, but right now, he’s a whole damn buffet.

I lick my lips and then remember he asked me a question. “Yes, please.”

He pours us each a glass and then sits on the armchair opposite me, hands clasped between his spread thighs, his groin directly in my eye-line so that I can see the outline of his impressive cock. Not sure if he’s intending to distract me, but it’s sure as hell working.

I take a sip of the expensive liquor, enjoying the familiar taste and the way the liquid warms my mouth. “Thank you for letting be there today.” I know it can’t have been easy for him given how overprotective he is, and it means a lot that he put his ego aside for me.

“Rayne.” His gorgeous dark eyes narrow on my face. “It was the least I could do. I would do anything for you. Anything.”

Something about the way he says that makes me believe him, even if my life would be a whole lot easier if I could simply dismiss it as hyperbole. “Well, I appreciate it, and I wanted to let you know.”

“You’re welcome.” He takes a swig of his drink, and I watch the way every taut muscle seems to flex and ripple as he moves, his throat thickening when he swallows. He’s quite the specimen, and maybe it’s the emotion of the day or the effects of the adrenaline, but I can’t stop thinking about touching him, tasting him.

“How does it feel to finally have it all, Enzo?”

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and an image of that tongue licking elsewhere flashes into my head, making heat pool between my thighs. “I’m not sure I do have it all.” He downs the rest of his brandy, placing his glass onto the coffee table with a solid thunk. “Not yet.”

The last two words sound like a promise, or maybe a threat, and I’m almost certain he’s referring to me. Of course, it’s entirely possible that’s not what he means at all. Things between us have been easy this past week, and that’s because we’ve had no expectations. No agenda. We’re simply two consenting adults who have the kind of insane sexual chemistry that’s both magical and rare. Yet now it feels like we’re veering dangerously close to the kind of emotional minefield we should definitely avoid.

“You’re the new don though. The king. I feel like I should bow. Maybe be on my knees.” I flutter my eyelashes, knowing exactly how those words will land.

He growls, eyes darkening with desire, confirming my suspicion. “You would look so fucking good on your knees for me.”

I smirk, finish my drink.

And then I slide off the sofa onto my knees, and crawl across the floor to him. By the time I reach him his hands are balled into fists, his deep-brown eyes ablaze with the kind of desire that already has me wet and needy. I come to a stop between his spread thighs.

His gaze rakes over me, hungry and dangerous. He reaches out to touch, but I pull back and shake my head. “I’m going to need you to put those hands on the armrests, sir,” I purr the words.

His jaw tics, but he wordlessly does as I ask.

“And I’m going to need you to keep them there. If you touch me, I’m stopping.”

His lip curls like he wants to protest.

Oh, I’m going to enjoy this as much as he does. “Do you understand?”

He nods.

“I’m going to need your words, Enzo,” I tease him.

“Yes,” he says through gritted teeth.

I run my hands up his powerful thighs, squeezing his taut quad muscles and offer him a wink. “Good boy.”

His whole body tenses as he white knuckles the chair, and I suppress a giggle, only because I don’t want to lighten the mood any. It costs him to give up control, and I don’t take that lightly.

I slide my hands over his solid abs, over the pink rose tattoo, the only pop of color in an otherwise dark sea of ink. I love more than anything that he kept that. Then I tug down the waistband of his shorts, revealing the full length of him. As dicks go, his is spectacular. The perfect length and lined with thick veins, the kind I’m going to enjoy tracing with my tongue. I wrap my hand around the base, my fingertips not able to meet even when I squeeze.

He groans at my touch.

I smile sweetly. “Hard already, huh?”

“You’re not wearing panties, Rayne. Of course I’m hard.”