In Wicked Chains (The Wicked) Read online

  He hissed, driving harder into her, knocking at the hidden place inside. Elina sank her teeth into his left pec, just over his heart, and suddenly found herself on her back, blinking up at the ceiling. King hunched over her, face intent, eyes fierce and hooked her left leg over his right shoulder. She wrapped her other leg around his waist and gripped the sheets as he pounded into her.

  “Fuck. Si, King.” She stared him in the eye, urging him on. “So fucking good, the way you take me. The way you love me.” She babbled like a freaking kid, words, English and Spanish, leaving her lips in a mumbled mess.

  He lowered her legs and lay prone on top of her. Elina curled both legs around his waist, rolling her hips and clamping those inner walls around him.

  “Mother fucker!” He snarled the curse against her lip before slipping his tongue inside her mouth.

  “Umm.” She kissed him back, hugging him close with one hand, cupping his ass with the other. Lean muscle flexed under her touch.

  “Shit, El.” He broke the kiss and stared into her eyes. “You’re like fucking wet silk around me.” He slammed into her and her lips parted on a silent scream. “Like goddamn silk, El. So tight.”

  “For you.” She pressed a kiss to his throat, tongue sliding over the thrumming pulse there. “Only for you.”

  He took her mouth again, linking their fingers as he slid into her. This time slowly, infinitely slow. Every ridge and vein on his cock registered as he dragged along her walls, even the rapid pulse at the tip of his swollen cock head. He surged forward until he was buried deep. The curly hairs on his crotch bit into her skin, his pelvis pressing against her clit.

  Elina widened her legs, undulating, trying to catch that fire singeing her nerve endings. Kingston tightened his hold on her fingers. Their damp skin clung to each other from chest to thighs.

  King buried his face in her neck. “Only you can affect me like this, El.” He slid his hands down their bodies and under her, cupping her ass, opening her wider as he reared back and slammed into her. She spasmed.

  “King. Por favor. Por favor.” Words froze on her lips as the orgasm swarmed her. Her body burned hot, then cold.

  “That’s it, come all over my cock. Cream for me.”

  She jerked, screamed. Grabbing his forearms, she clawed at him, nails digging deep. He slammed in again. She heard her name from a distance, muted by her screams and the blood rushing in her ears.

  Liquid heat flooded her pussy, triggering something because she couldn’t stop convulsing. Her screams died down, replaced instead by heavy moans. Unsteady hands held her, rubbed her back as tears leaked from her eyes.

  “Ssh, baby. I’ve got you.” King kissed her eyes, her nose, and finally her mouth. His lips lingered, clung.

  She clutched his shoulders, sobbing out the words choking the life from her. “Te Amo, Te Amo.”

  Chapter Six

  The cold woke her. Elina groaned and stretched. Her body ached everywhere, a delicious reminder of last night. Lifting her head from the face plant into the pillow, she reached for Kingston.

  Nothing but smooth, cool sheets met her hand.

  Blinking sleep from bleary eyes, Elina stared at the place he’d been last night. If not for the patchouli and ache in her joints and rarely used pussy, she’d think it had all been a dream. She sat up, pulling the blankets to cover her nakedness. The juncture of her thighs was sticky, practically glued together by his cum.

  Numb, she looked around the room. His clothes were gone, but her jeans, sweater, and leather jacket were carefully folded and placed on the back of his armchair, along with her hand bag and car keys.

  A brittle laugh fell from her lips. He broke her last night, tore down her walls until she couldn’t hold back anything. Couldn’t hide from him, or from herself.

  Te Amo.

  She brought trembling fingers to her mouth, but the wail escaped.

  I told him. No wonder he disappeared. Needy Elina, you get a good fucking and you confuse it for something more. Something non-existent.

  Welcome to the real world. Sometimes a fuck is just a fuck.

  She scrambled off the bed, tears running down her face and got dressed. After tugging on her clothes, she had to search the house for her boots, but she found them downstairs beside the couch. Elina stood, car keys dangling from one finger and stared at the brown leather couch.

  She remembered his mouth on her, his fingers, a touch of magic.

  One last look at the couch, then she hurried out the door and into the garage. She refused to think about the particular incident up against the car, instead she gunned the engine and backed out the garage like that motherfucker was collapsing.

  She didn’t look back. Once she put distance between herself and Kingston, she opened the driver side window. The time on her dash read eight forty-three. Freezing wind blew inside the car, chilling the tears on her cheek.

  Elina let herself into her condo, undressing as she walked through the place, stopping in the bathroom to run a bath. She intended to scrub every touch, every kiss, and every scent away.

  Slumped in the tub, surrounded by bubbles up to her neck, Elina willed herself to stop crying. Her head understood Kingston’s reaction. He doesn’t do commitment. She knew that going in, from being around him, watching the parade of women trailing behind him.

  What did you expect, Elina? Idiota. She shook her head at her naiveté. She knew all this, yet her heart refused acceptance. He had feelings for her, last night proved it, but what did it mean and was it strong enough to blossom into love?

  No. He made his decision and she had to live with it. She’d see him with other women unless she stopped hanging with the group and she wasn’t prepared to do that.

  Grin and bear. Let him see she wasn’t pining. He had his chance. She’d take hers and find a man who wanted her.

  She frowned and blew absentmindedly at the bubbles covering her knees. How in the hell was she supposed to find a man anyway?

  Damn, that’s a problem for another time. She stepped out of the tub. Towel wrapped around her, eyes grainy, she fell into bed. Thinking would come later.

  * * * *

  Kingston crept behind the dilapidated house, careful not to step on the dead leaves and broken beer bottles littering the yard. No unnecessary noise. He reached the back door and gently jiggled the handle.

  Locked, but not for long. He fished his wallet from his jean pocket and retrieved the tools he needed. Using his teeth to hold the knife he carried, he made quick work of the door, easing it open once he had it unlocked.

  He replaced the tools in his wallet and slid it into his front pockets. The knife he held steady in his right hand as he stepped through the doorway. Familiar smells greeted him. He caught cigarette smoke, beer, and stale sweat, threatening to take him back to places he’d rather not go.

  The worn floorboards creaked under his weight and he froze, head cocked, listening for any movement.

  None came.

  He walked through the kitchen with dirty dishes piled high in the sink, roaches running wild over the stove and countertop, and entered the living room. The ancient TV was on, muted, picture grainy from the rabbit-ears antenna perched precariously atop the tiny box.

  He recognized that TV. In fact all the furniture looked familiar. It was all the same smells, same furniture, but different house. This one was way smaller, though the yellow-green carpet was the same.

  Snores reached his ears, coming from his left. Kingston turned in that direction, the last room in this filthy place.

  The door stood ajar and he pushed it open with his foot. A giant figure lay face down on the bed, loud snores rumbling. Kingston stepped inside, covering his nose at the overpowering stench of sweat and filth.

  Walking up to the bed, he held the knife to the neck of the sleeping man. “Wake the fuck up.” He pressed the blade deep into the skin, watching as a bead of blood welled up.

  “Wha-wha?” The man on the bed flailed, arms and legs flying out.
>
  Kingston palmed the back of his head and pressed the man’s face into the mattress. “I’m going to talk and you will listen, got me?”

  Muffled grunts.

  Kingston sank the knife in deeper and blood trickled freely. “Nod if you understand.”

  The man nodded.

  “Do not call my phone again. If you do, I won’t be as cordial next time. Stay away from my place of business and my home. You show up at any one of them, at any place I happen to be at, and I will end you. Do you understand?”

  Again he gave a jerky nod.

  “The only reason you’ve been allowed to live for all these years is because of me. That can change in a heartbeat, believe me.” Kingston backed away, wiping his gloved hands on his jeans with a scowl.

  The man shifted onto his back, meeting Kingston’s gaze with familiar dark eyes.

  “This is the way you treat your father, boy?”

  Kingston lunged forward and grabbed him by the neck, squeezing. “You are nothing to me,” he grated. “Nothing. My parents are the Hughes. You’re nothing but a drunken fuck-up who knocked up my birth mother.”

  Earl’s dry lips curled, exposing teeth brown with decay. “I loved your mother and Wilma loved me, too,” he panted.

  “Yes, well, she didn’t know any better. Strung out as she always was.” Kingston dropped his hold.

  “Don’t speak of your mother that way. God rest her soul.” Earl struggled to a sitting position and made the sign of the cross.

  Kingston rolled his eyes, cringing at the dirt and blood caked under the man’s nails and on his clothes. “At one time I thought you were a different man, now I see you’ve always been a drunken predator. If you come near me again, I will not hesitate to put you out of your misery. It’s the least you deserve and it’s a long time coming.” He turned his back and walked toward the door.

  “How’s that gal you call your sister? Still protecting her? You weren’t doing a good job the other day at your fancy club.”

  Spinning in a circle, Kingston flung the knife at Earl’s head. The blade grazed the older man’s leathery cheek, blood spraying before it embedded in the headboard. “My sister got the best of you when she was fourteen. You really think you have the balls to handle her now? Forget about me protecting her, she can handle you. And when she’s done carving you up, her man will eat you alive. Make sure your will is in order when you decide to make your move.”

  Earl just stared at him, a hand cupping his bloody cheek. King spat on the floor and walked out, pulling his cell phone from his waist.

  Eight forty-three. He had to get back to his house, to Elina. He left her there, in his bed, looking so peaceful. I should’ve left a note. Damn.

  She’d understand once he showed up with breakfast. Smiling, he climbed into his truck and dialed. The phone rang five times before Niko answered.

  “‘Lo?”

  “Don’t let Sasha know it’s me. You’re still sleeping?”

  “Yeah. Uh, hold on.”

  He listened while Niko murmured to Sasha, soothing her like no one else could.

  “Alright, I’m in the bathroom. What’s up?”

  “We, ah, we have a problem.” He brought Niko up to date on Earl’s recent resurfacing and the possible threat he could pose to Sasha.

  “What the fuck are you telling me, King? You think he’ll come after her?”

  “I don’t know. He mentioned watching her at the club the other day. I just-I want you to know, to be on the look out.”

  “And you want me to keep this from her?”

  “You know how she can be. She’ll hunt him down and confront him herself and I don’t want her to have to look at him ever again.”

  “I’m not keeping secrets from her, do you understand? I won’t. This is too important and she’ll never forgive me.”

  “How did I know you’d say that?”

  “Because you know how I feel about your sister.” Water ran in the background. “I’m telling her as soon as she wakes up.”

  “Damn it. Can you hold out for a couple hours at least? I want to be there, too.” Kingston pulled into his garage and stared at the empty place where Elina’s car sat not even an hour earlier.

  “You have until midday.” Niko hung up.

  King dropped his phone on the seat next to him, knuckles white as he clenched his fists.

  She left, without a word. He hopped out of the truck and ran upstairs, looking for a note, a sign, a clue.

  He found nothing.

  The bed was made, room pristine except for the faint musk of sex, their sex.

  Her MP3 sat on his night table. Guess she forgot that in her hurry. King sank down on the edge of the bed. He should’ve left a note, should’ve told her he’d only be gone for a short while.

  He came back with the intent of talking the serious talk, about them, about the words she spoke last night. Te Amo.

  Guess they carried no weight in the light of day, when he wasn’t bringing her to orgasm. He picked up his house phone, to call her, question her actions, but decided against it.

  Retracing his steps, he got back into his car and headed to Sasha’s house, to turn his sister’s world upside down.

  * * * *

  Niko let Kingston into the house, the bald man’s expression somber.

  “Where is she?” Kingston handed over the coffee he brought and walked into the foyer.

  “Kitchen.” Niko closed the door and motioned King forward. “She’s expecting you.”

  Kingston rubbed a hand over his jaw. “What did you tell her?” He did not anticipate this conversation. Stubborn Sasha wouldn’t want to wait around for Earl. She’d insist on finding him pronto.

  Shrugging, Niko walked past him. “I told her you wanted to talk about something important.”

  King grunted as they entered the kitchen. Sasha sat on one of the high stools surrounding the marble island, munching on bacon and talking on the phone. He walked up to her, planting a kiss on her cheek.

  “Hey.”

  She held up a finger and continued on her call. “Yes, lilacs. Two bouquets delivered to the address I gave you. Uh-huh. Yes, the note should say exactly that. Thank you.” She ended the call and met King’s eyes. “What’s up?”

  Kingston gulped, his stomach churned. “We, ah. We need to talk.”

  “I got that part.” She took the cup of coffee Niko offered and sipped. “What do we have to talk about? Did you go to Elina and fix whatever you did like I told you to?”

  “I did, but this isn’t about that.” He didn’t want to think about her reaction if she ever found out he slept with her best friend. Meeting Niko’s eyes, Kingston cleared his throat and took a seat beside Sasha. He held her hand.

  “Jesus. King, what is it? You look…scared.” Sasha snatched her hand from him, gaze darting from him to Niko and back. “What the hell is going on?”

  Niko smoothed a hand down her back. “Babe, let your brother speak.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “One of you better start talking.”

  “I’ve been getting hang-up calls on my cell phone lately,” King said softly. “Maysin put a trace on it and it led to Earl.”

  Sasha stiffened. “Earl your father, Earl?” Her tone was soft, dangerous.

  “Yes. I suspected it was him before Maysin confirmed it. I saw him in my neighborhood last week, standing at the side of the road with his hands in his pockets. Today he said he’d been watching the club, watching you.”

  She hopped off the stool. The white, long-sleeved shirt she wore hung to mid-thigh. Shoving a hand through her hair, she paced the wood floors on bare feet. “How did Earl get your number?”

  “Don’t know. I’m not in the book so he’d have to really be looking.” Kingston got up and went to her. “I’m sorry.”

  She swung her angry gaze to him. “Why are you sorry?”

  “He’s not done torturing us and I know he’s only alive because he’s my father.” He looked at Niko when he spoke the la
st part.

  “No.” Sasha shook her head. “You’ve done nothing wrong. We can’t help who gave birth to us. When did you see Earl?”

  “I went to his house this morning.”

  “Hmm.” She twisted the black Tungsten ring on her left index. “He’s still thinking of me, is he?”

  Kingston touched her shoulder, surprised by the tiny tremors running under his palm. He tightened his hold on her. “He was at the club. He watched you, told me I wasn’t doing a good job protecting you.”

  She laughed. The low sound slithered over Kingston’s skin. Niko brushed past him and gathered Sasha into his arms.

  “Let’s go into the living room, babe.”

  “No.” She pushed Niko away and turned to Kingston with overly bright eyes. “Only place I’m going is to find that slimy fuck and put him out of his misery. He’s not allowed to threaten me, to resurrect all those old wounds.” Her voice shook.

  “He doesn’t have the power to resurrect anything,” Niko told her. “Only you can do that.”

  “He tried to rape me! I was fourteen, a kid. A lonely kid and he preyed on that.”

  Kingston stood still as she screamed, his hands clenched at his sides. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get rid of the stain on his soul, of his father’s sins. Sasha got away, but they didn’t know who else was victim to Earl’s sickness.

  “Babe.” Niko pulled her into his arms again. “He tried, but you stopped him. That fourteen-year-old kid stopped him, remember that. You’re stronger than him, always have been. And if he decides to come looking for you, we’ll be here waiting. Both of us.”

  Sasha clutched Niko’s shoulders. “He has to be stopped,” she whispered.

  “He will be,” Kingston promised. “You have your happiness here.” He choked up. “You’re finally happy and I won’t allow him to take it away.” Turning his back, he walked out the kitchen and exited the house.

  * * * *

  “Ms. Royce, you have a delivery.”

  Harper Royce looked up at the knock on her office door. “Come in, Natalia.” Her secretary came in, carrying a huge bouquet of lilacs. Harper frowned. “Who’s it from?”