In Wicked Chains (The Wicked) Read online

  “Get the fuck out of my club and if I see you again, I’m shooting first.”

  Adrian paled, but shot a concerned glance at Elina.

  “Go, Adrian. I’ll be fine.” She sure as hell didn’t sound too convinced of that. Adrian hesitated.

  “Go!” Kingston barked.

  Adrian threw her an apologetic shrug and slipped through the door, disappearing quickly. Elina swung to face Kingston.

  “What the fuck is your problem? Put that damn gun away.”

  He advanced on her, eyes flashing warning signals she didn’t heed. “Is this who you’ve been fucking, Elina? You raced out of my bed to go to him?”

  What the hell? Nostrils flared, he stood in front of her, gun still pointed ahead. She divided her attention between the weapon and his eyes.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “No? Let me remind you.” He stuck the gun in his waistband.

  She didn’t have a chance to expel the sigh of relief she felt. Kingston grabbed her arms, bringing her flush onto his chest. She gasped.

  “Not even five days ago you were in my bed, Elina. I was inside you.” He shook her, hard. “You were gracing me with your screams and now you’re saying they belong to somebody else?”

  Elina struggled to free herself from his tight hold. She sank her fingers into his chest, digging deep. “I’m not saying anything to you. Whatever you heard is your business.” She kicked out at him, aiming for his shin.

  He turned them suddenly, pressing her into the wall. Breath left her on a shudder and Kingston swallowed it, kissing her with bruising force.

  Elina pushed at his chest. A rough palm slid up her thigh, cupped her ass, pulling her thong to the side. A sob hiccupped from her. His spare hand fumbled at the front of his jeans and she opened her mouth, swept her tongue in to tangle with his.

  He devoured her mouth, teeth clinking, biting. Elina found herself moaning into his onslaught, tugging at his zipper as she wound a leg around his waist. His naked cock spilled out into her palm and she didn’t allow him any preamble. Lifting her hip, sinking her teeth into his lower lip, she guided him into her waiting wetness.

  He pushed in on a grunt, sinking deep, fast, hard. Elina shuddered. Eyelids fluttering, she gave herself over to the pleasure. Thinking was overrated.

  With both hands on her hips, Kingston drove into her, pounding, punishing. He never broke the kiss and she swallowed each shuddering grunt, each moan as she clamped down around him, doling out her own form of punishment.

  She rocked on him, loving the way his arms trembled and his breath hitched. Elina threw her head back, breaking the kiss for the first time as hoarse cries ripped from her throat.

  “No one can do this to you,” he rasped against her throat. “Only me. Only me.”

  She clutched his shoulders, tears filling her eyes again. Staring up at the heavens, she spoke in Spanish. “I don’t want to go back. Tell me it’s not the same. What I feel, say it’s not what you feel.”

  He clasped her face in his hands while still moving inside her. “Tell me what you feel, say it again. Say it like you did the last time you were in my bed, in my arms.”

  Elina shook her head. “I can’t. You’re not free and it’s only going to bring me more pain.”

  Kingston slid a hand over her body, pinching a nipple before he toyed with her clit. She arched. He smiled. “I’m as free as I want to be, El. Tell me you love me, prove I wasn’t dreaming it.”

  He licked a wet trail down her neck and sucked a nipple through her dress. Heat washed over her. She cried out.

  “I’m not telling you shit until you get rid of that plastic puta downstairs.” His thrusts sped up and she panted, tugging on his braids for support.

  Kingston sank his teeth into her nipple. She screamed, pussy clenching. He shuddered. “Get rid of that fucking pretty boy you were grinding on earlier.” He met her gaze and licked his lips. “I will shoot him.”

  Elina lifted off his cock, then sank down slowly, her breath hitching. “He’s gay.”

  He stopped moving, though his cock twitched inside her. “You wanted to fuck with my head.”

  “And the plastic bitch downstairs isn’t there to fuck with mine?” She wiggled on him.

  “Yes.” He kissed her chin.

  “Get rid of her.”

  “Done.” He sank his fingers into her hair, tilting her head back.

  Elina stared into those bottomless eyes glinting with lust and need and her chest constricted.

  “Te Amo, El.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek to stifle her cries, but they rang out anyway. Kingston took her lips, angled his trusts and pegged her spot lightning quick. She jerked.

  “I love you, El. Tell me.” His thrusts punctuated the words. “Let me hear it.”

  “Oh, God. King.” She threw her hips at him, meeting his pounding as the orgasm worked its way through her. “Te Amo. I love you so much.”

  As if waiting for the words, he growled and stiffened, blunt fingers biting into her hip as he shot creamy heat into her pussy. Elina clutched him to her, riding him until he stopped moving. Their chests heaved, breath mingling as they kissed each other. This time wasn’t hurried. King used his tongue to stroke the inside of her mouth just right. She allowed him his savoring, moaning softly as she tugged on his hair. Her legs cramped where she’d wrapped them around his waist, the wall at her back poked into her shoulder blade leaving a dull ache, but Elina ignored all that.

  Kingston loved her and damn if everything wasn’t right with her world.

  “So, you left me sitting alone with your friends to come fuck this Spanish bitch?”

  Kingston stiffened. Elina lifted her head, blinking to clear her vision. Plastic puta stood in the open doorway, arms crossed over twin flotation devices, narrowed eyes shooting daggers at Elina.

  For his part, King didn’t raise his head to look at her. “DeeAnne, didn’t we already go over this?’’

  DeeAnne scowled. “You said you were dealing with some things, not that you were dumping me for that.” She eyed Elina like a bug under her open-toed, snakeskin stilettos.

  Elina smiled and hugged Kingston tighter. This wasn’t her fight. She had no ties to cut with the woman.

  “Take the hint, Dee.” Kingston kissed Elina’s neck, his cock twitching. “To say I dumped you is to imply we had a relationship.” He lifted his head then. “Don’t mean to be blunt, but there’s a reason I never fucked you. Elina is that reason.”

  The woman’s mouth dropped open. Fuck, even Elina felt that blow. With one last murderous glance, DeeAnne stomped away, slamming the door behind her.

  “Well, that went well.” Elina slid down Kingston’s body, planting unsteady feet on the floor.

  He grimaced and stepped away. “Yeah.” Zipping up his jeans, he asked, “Where to now?”

  She tugged down her dress. “Your place is closer.”

  * * * *

  They stood in the middle of his bedroom, Elina wrapped in a towel, water from their shared shower drying on Kingston’s skin. She stared at him with those wide eyes, love shining through. He couldn’t believe he’d never seen it before, when now her feelings for him were so obvious.

  Maybe because I didn’t want to hope.

  “Come here.” He sat on the bed and crooked a finger. She approached him slowly, swaying to the soft beat of the music he’d put on for her. When she stood directly in front of him, he pulled away the towel. The shadows of flames from the fireplace danced across her skin.

  Kingston licked the tip of his right index and trailed it down her body, from the dip at her throat to her navel.

  She inhaled and he watched as her skin broke out in goose bumps. He circled her waist, bringing her between his parted thighs. She sank her fingers into his hair and he pinched a nipple while taking the other in his mouth.

  Elina gasped.

  He made love to her nipples, sucking one, then the other. Nipping, flicking, until s
he writhed and her heavy arousal scented the air.

  “King. Oh God.” She tugged his hair as he scraped a nipple with his teeth. Her hand dipped between her legs, rubbing her clit, speeding up her hips.

  He lifted her and tossed her onto the bed. She bounced. Her legs spread wide, fingers back to where they were. He watched as she slid two fingers into her pussy, thrusting to the last knuckles.

  Shit. He tore his gaze away, fumbling in his drawer for…ah, there. Finding what he sought, he climbed up the bed and straddled her legs. She looked at him with need-darkened eyes half open, her sweet juices glistening on her fingers.

  Bringing the plastic handle of the hairbrush to her lips, he spoke. “Open for me.”

  She obliged, mouth making the perfect O. He slid the rounded tip into her mouth and she bobbed her head, sucking with deep moans. Kingston palmed his dripping cock and stroked himself. His balls ached, but he willed himself not to come. This was for Elina.

  He allowed them both the luxury of her sucking the base of the brush as a cock for a few more minutes, then pulled it from her with a wet pop. She licked her lips.

  He grinned. “Love to watch you suck, El. You’re hypnotizing.”

  She flashed a small smile.

  Moving backwards down her body, he brought the wet object to her dripping pussy and shoved it in, no teasing and no false starts.

  She groaned. His breath shuddered and he squeezed the base of his cock to keep from coming. One hand fucking Elina with the brush, the other stroking his cock, Kingston brought them to a rhythm. His grunts, her soft cries, and other slick, wet sounds filled the room.

  The long denied orgasm brought King’s balls tight against his cock. He sped up his tempo on himself and on Elina, thrusting the brush in and twisting it. She jerked.

  “Dios, King. Si, si. Fuck me hard.” Head thrashing back and forth, her voice went hoarse as she gripped the sheets.

  “Ah, shit. Shit.” He clenched his jaw, vision blanking as he came, creamy cum splattering over Elina’s thighs. She hissed and arched, body quivering under him. Kingston pulled a breath deep into his lungs, inhaling their musk of sex and sweat.

  God, he loved the smell the two of them made.

  He slowly removed the brush handle from her body and licked off her juices. Elina watched him with her lips parted.

  “Mmm. So good, El.” He smacked his lips. “Salt and sweet all up in that pussy, babe.”

  She giggled and hit his arm. Joining in the laughter, he dropped the brush at the side of the bed and crawled up to lay beside her. He gathered her in his arms, dropping kisses on her sweaty forehead.

  For the first time in his life, he was in love and it couldn’t come at a worst possible time. Earl was back, posing a threat to Sasha. Kingston couldn’t have that. The only good thing was Earl didn’t know about Elina. Kingston intended to keep it that way. She’d been through enough with one psychotic father.

  Lord knows she might never recover from another.

  Chapter Eight

  Kingston looked up from his newspaper as Elina walked into the kitchen the next morning. “Hey, how’d you sleep?”

  She slid into the chair opposite him, wearing one of his t-shirts. “Like a freaking baby.” Sparkling eyes smiled at him.

  Putting down the paper, he reached over and cupped her cheek. “I’m glad. From now on you’ll always have me to go to bed with. I’ll keep away the nightmares.” And he meant every word. He fell asleep last night with her in his arms and awoke the same way. The most indescribable feeling ran through his body as he stared down at her sleeping face and pink lips parted. She told him she had nightmares every night, yet she’d had none.

  He always wanted it to be that way for her.

  Elina nuzzled into his touch. “I like that idea.”

  He tugged her closer and captured her lips, kissing her soft and thorough. Her taste was one he’d never tire of. Reluctantly breaking away, he gestured to his cup on the table. “Coffee?”

  She nodded and he poured her a cup. He placed it in front of her and she gulped it down barebones, no milk, sugar, or cream. Kingston raised an eyebrow as she sighed and closed her eyes.

  “Good?”

  Her eyes flew open, a nice shade of red tinting her cheeks. “Yeah, good. Thanks.”

  Kingston chuckled. “I see you love your coffee. I didn’t know that about you.”

  “Mmm, I do.”

  “What about breakfast? You feel like going out to eat?”

  “Sure, but I’ll need clothes.” She got to her feet. “Don’t think my outfit from last night would be appropriate.”

  King remembered the way she looked in that black, painted-on number. He still debated whether to burn the thing or buy her ten more identical dresses. “You can slip it on and we’ll go to your condo to get you changed.”

  “Okay.” She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Thank you.” She pressed her lips to his neck.

  King held her tight, her scent of Freesia and sex heating his blood and stirring his prick. “Thanks for what?”

  “Loving me, giving me what I need.”

  He sank his fingers into her hair, tilting her head back. “Which is what?”

  “You.”

  * * * *

  Harper eased out of bed, teeth clamped down on the inside of her cheek. The man snoring beside her didn’t stir, but that didn’t mean anything. The bastard moved like a freaking hawk.

  She moved one foot off the bed, then two. The bed creaked with each careful move she made. With an eye and ear tuned for a sound or movement from Isaiah, she rolled, finally dropping onto the carpeted floor. She lay silent for a moment, gathering her wits and breath to make the dash from the bedroom to bathroom.

  She had a voice message on her phone, a message from Maysin. Her hurry and stealth were two-fold. She had to destroy it before Isaiah got wind. He’d taken to checking her phone when he thought she wasn’t looking. She had a password, but still it didn’t hurt to be circumspect when dealing with the devil posing as Seattle’s lauded District Attorney.

  Harper also wanted to hear Maysin’s voice again. She’d yelled and cursed at him, hung up in his ear, but she needed the deep, soothing tones of his voice. At her office yesterday, she’d researched Maysin Winthrop-Ferreira.

  Harper took a deep breath, counted to ten, and raced to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She sank to the floor, back against the door with the cell phone clutched in her hands. If what she found on the internet was true, Maysin came from a very wealthy and powerful family in New York. Why was he slumming in Seattle?

  She pressed speed-dial eight on her phone and called up her voicemail. Stomach churning, she silently cursed the automated voice for yapping instead of playing that damn message. I know how many messages I’ve got, bitch!

  “Harper.” Ah, finally. “Yes, I have your number, I’ve always had it.”

  She pursed her lips, shaking her head at the realization that she knew nothing about this man, yet he knew so much about her.

  “The person who knows about you and I isn’t someone to fear or be concerned with. She wants us to be together and is doing her damndest to make it happen.” He paused. “She’s braver than me, because I’m letting you go without a fight. I heard you’ve got an engagement party tomorrow. Hope you get everything you want.”

  To repeat this message press—

  Shut up, bitch! Harper squeezed the phone in her palm, body rocking with silent sobs. If she told Maysin he had a shot with her, a chance, he’d fight. She knew that much about him. Maybe he’d win, but was she really worth it? Was the taint she was born with really worth it?

  Not a chance she could take. Isaiah held her secrets and he’d tie her to him with them. Where she’d always considered herself a fighter, she, too, had given up. The risk wasn’t worth it. She’d give Isaiah what he wanted, a wife and kids, and live out her days flashing fake smiles and wishing for more, wishing for Maysin.

  Bang.
Bang. “Harper, are you in there?”

  She jumped to her feet and quickly flushed the toilet. “Yes. Give me a minute, I’ll be right out.” Harper splashed water on her face, washing away the tears she always cried when she thought of Maysin. Wiping her face with a towel, she leaned over and unlocked the door.

  Isaiah’s sleep-red gaze searched her face.

  “Are you okay?”

  He lifted a hand and she flinched away, ducking under his arm and out of the bedroom.

  “Yeah.” She went about pulling the blanket and sheets off the bed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You look…worn out.”

  Gaze on her task, she shrugged. “Well, I’ve been a busy girl. Planning a wedding isn’t easy, even under normal circumstances.”

  He walked over to her and sat on the bed. She shook her head at his insensitivity, biting her tongue to keep her frustrated scream bottled up.

  “I suggested you hire a planner, did I not?”

  He stared up at her with those fucking gray eyes, all innocent.

  “I want control of at least one thing in my life.” She flung away the sheets and clenched her fists. “Is it too much to ask that I be allowed to live my life my way?”

  “Are you throwing another tantrum?” He rose off the bed and headed out of the room. “I’ve already told you, those things don’t work on me.”

  “What does work on you, you fucking bastard?” She snatched the vase filled with lilacs on her bedside table and threw it at him. The porcelain vase landed on the wall next to his head, shattering on impact. Isaiah didn’t flinch as he closed the door softly behind him.

  Fucker!

  * * * *

  Elina and Kingston spent the morning together, clearing the air between them. He explained and apologized for the misunderstanding on the morning of their first night together. Many times during their hour and a half conversation over pancakes and eggs she pinched herself, making damn sure she wasn’t in the midst of the sweetest dream ever.