The King's Pawn: The Complete King Crime Family Duet

by J. L. Beck

  “Let’s go then.” Setting his glass down, he gently grabs my hand and leads me out of the room, stopping to close and lock the door behind us. I’m not sure why he feels the need to do that being it is his house, but I’m not curious enough to ask.

  I can’t help but admire Lorenzo’s house as we continue our journey to the kitchen. The house is large and has an elegance to it that I have never seen before. This is the type of thing that can’t be seen anywhere—magazines won’t even do it justice. It is designed and decorated to a specific standard, and I assume that standard is Lorenzo King.

  The kitchen is huge. Dark wood cabinets line the walls with stainless steel appliances accompanying them. The fridge is the biggest I have ever seen, and the eating area is so large that you could easily feed two families on Thanksgiving. Floor to ceiling windows take up the far wall, allowing light to come through at all angles. The floor is white marble, I presume, since I haven’t a clue. All I know is that it probably cost more than it is worth for me to be standing on it.

  I take a seat at the table, my eyes never leaving the surreal view. It is a shame someone like him has a view like this. Even if he isn’t hurting me or demanding something from me now, I know it will happen sooner or later.

  In a matter of minutes, a steaming hot plate sits in front of me. Red spaghetti sauce, meatballs, and noodles are the only things I can see.

  “Eat it, it’s amazing. This is my mother’s recipe, actually.” He smiles, but it never reaches his eyes. I can tell that there is something brewing just under the surface. He is a hurricane, capable of taking everyone out with him once he meets the shore.

  I would never admit it, but he was right. Now that I smell this food, I am hungry despite the dread of the unknown holding onto me.

  Picking up my fork, I shove a heaping bite into my mouth. It is warm and extremely delicious. I moan, completely accidentally. When I open my eyes to take another bite, my gaze collides with Lorenzo’s. His eyes are dilated, and it looks as if he is about ready to jump over the table and devour me himself.

  “This is really good,” I compliment the food. He nods at me, dismissing the look he has just given me altogether. A coldness settles into me. I don’t really want him to look at me like that, but then again, I kind of do. I feel as if I am missing something without him, without that look.

  I finish my food and stand, readying myself to wash my plate and silverware so they can be put away.

  “Stop,” he commands. I turn to him, my face growing red. I feel like the kid who got caught stealing cookies out of the cookie jar.

  “The housekeepers take care of that.”

  I scoff at him, not sure if I am going to listen to him. I’m not one to allow others to clean up after me.

  “You’re already thinking about disobeying me, aren’t you?” It isn’t really a question because I haven’t done anything wrong yet, but how can cleaning up my mess be disobeying him?

  “No…” I lie. I refuse to tell him I am not going to listen to him, especially over something as petty as washing my dishes after eating. My mother raised me to clean up after myself.

  “Now you’re lying,” he remarks, taking an aggressive step in front of me. His eyes narrow as his hand snakes around my back to directly behind my neck.

  His fingers dig into my skin, gripping me just above a painful level. “Never lie to me.” There are no emotions on his face, and his voice is cool and firm. Fear slithers up my spine and deep into my brain. It is plain to see that even the littlest things can get me killed here.

  “Okay.” I try my hardest to hold my chin up high. I don’t want him to think that he has broken me yet. I will never be broken, though. I’ve lost far too much in my life to be ashamed of anything.

  “Good. Things like that can get you killed here. Always be honest. Always.” His eyes grow softer, and an understanding settles over me. Honesty is huge with him. I store that information away, knowing that is something I need to keep front and center.

  “I will. Always be honest, I mean.”

  “Good. Honesty is always the best policy, Amara.” His hand releases the back of my neck and slides to my lower back. With the tiniest press to the small of my back, he is pushing me forward, forcing me to let the maids clean up my mess.

  “In all fairness, I could really clean up my own mess, Lorenzo.”

  “Enzo,” he says.

  “Pardon?” I ask in confusion, coming to a standstill.

  “Enzo is what you may call me.”

  I nod, surprised that he wants me to use his nickname. “The maids get paid to clean up after my guests and me. If you were to clean up your mess, then they would be out a job. I’d have to fire them. That wouldn’t be fair, would it?” That is a low blow if ever I heard one— holding one’s job over someone else’s head.

  “That’s a bit harsh, wouldn’t you say?” Questioning him is a bold move for me to make. I know he doesn’t owe me any answers.

  “Harsh…” He laughs, but it is anything but a cheery kind. “You have a lot to learn about me.”

  If that isn’t the understatement of the year.

  “Come now. Let’s get ready for bed.” He turns and starts to walk out of the kitchen. Glancing out of the window, I realize it’s just now getting dark outside. It can’t be later than eight. Does he really expect me to go to bed right now, or does he mean something completely different by getting ready for bed?

  We pass multiple guards as I follow quietly behind Lorenzo, not wanting to draw more attention to myself.

  I think I’m still in shock. I haven’t freaked out yet, which seems absurd. I just had a mostly civilized dinner with my captor, who sees me as a possession.

  I wonder what it was that broke him. What made him so dark and cold? What made him into a person who takes women as payment? Most importantly, is there any good left inside of him?

  Desperately, I wish there is. Because at this point, I think a sliver of goodness inside of him is the only hope I have.

  4

  Enzo

  I watch her step back into my bedroom… our bedroom for the time being. She walks through my house like it’s a museum, scanning every room and every item with wonder and fascination. If it wasn’t for the lingering fear in her eyes, she would look like a kid in a candy store.

  She stops a few feet away from me, suddenly looking out of place. She eyes me curiously as if she is waiting for my direction.

  “Get undressed,” I order, leaning against the desk casually.

  She doesn’t move. Her gaze is locked on me, and even from across the room, I can see her chest rising and falling rapidly.

  “I know I agreed to do whatever you want, and I will, but I would really appreciate it if you would tell me what’s going to happen exactly? I mean, you said we’ll get to know each other first before we…”

  “Fuck?” I finish for her.

  “Yes, that.” Her cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink, and I feel a grin tuck on my lips.

  “I wasn’t planning on fucking you tonight. I simply asked you to undress so I can look at you.”

  She takes a final deep breath before doing what I asked her to. She starts with the blouse, taking much too long with each button due to her shaky fingers. Next, she takes off her shoes, then she fumbles with the zipper on her jeans.

  It’s the least sexy striptease I have ever seen, yet my cock is growing rapidly in my pants. Clumsily, she pulls her jeans down her slender legs, almost falling over in the process.

  Straightening up, she pauses when all that’s left is her underwear. I give her a nod, encouraging her to keep going. Reaching behind her back, she unclasps her bra and lets it slide down her shoulders. Her perky breasts come into view, and the sight is pumping all the blood in my body straight to my cock.

  Her taut nipples are a soft pink, sitting perfectly centered on her heavy breasts. Dipping her fingers into the waistband of her panties, she slides them down her body until she is standing in front of me compl
etely naked.

  I watch her hands twitch. She wants to cover up but manages to keep her arms by her side so I can get a good look at her pussy. It’s shaved, almost like she knew how I like it. I take her body in, scanning every inch of her creamy skin, wondering if it’s as soft as it looks.

  She clears her throat, making my eyes snap up to her face. Defiance mixed with fear and annoyance is written all over her face.

  “I’m cold,” she states, her bottom lip shaking slightly.

  “Don’t move.” I step into the closet and pick out a nightgown for her. The fabric is a deep blue silk and will look amazing on her.

  Returning to the bedroom, I am pleased to see she hasn’t moved.

  “Who do these clothes belong to?” she asks when I hand her the nightgown.

  “They’re yours.”

  “I mean before,” she whispers as she slides the silky piece of fabric on.

  “Are you jealous, Amara?”

  “Just curious.” She shrugs.

  “They are yours. They never belonged to anyone else. I bought them for you.”

  “How? You didn’t know I was going to come until a few hours ago…” I can practically see the wheels turning inside her pretty little head. “You planned this?”

  “I might have seen this outcome ahead of time,” I admit. “I visited your father two weeks ago. I gave him an ultimatum then. Told him in fourteen days it would be money or… you.”

  Her plump lips slightly part, and her eyes go impossible wide. Quickly her shock turners into something else… hurt. A deep pain settles in her gaze, and I almost feel bad for mentioning it. Judging by her facial expression, the realization that her father knew and didn’t warn her pains her more than anything else she experienced today.

  “There is a toothbrush for you in the bathroom and other things you might need,” I offer. “Go get ready for bed.”

  She gives me a tiny nod before disappearing into the bathroom. I take that time to get undressed myself, locking the door, and stashing my gun in the nightstand’s hidden compartment.

  Amara returns a few minutes later. Her eyes are glued on my body as she hesitantly walks to the bed. I left my boxers on, but she is clearly fascinated by my bare chest.

  She stops right in front of me, and so close, I can see the red around her eyes. She was crying in the bathroom but dried her tears before coming out. My little toy doesn’t want to show any weakness.

  “Lie down,” I order, and watch her crawl into my bed.

  Turning off the light, I slide in next to her, pulling the blanket over us both. Darkness settles over us, but my eyes remain wide open.

  “Why is my father’s debt so important to you? You clearly have enough money,” Amara whispers after a while.

  “If I let one person’s debt go, no matter how small, others will expect the same.” There are no exceptions, no loopholes, or second chances. I will get paid one way or another.

  “Why loan money at all? Don’t you have enough to live comfortably for the rest of your life?”

  “I always need more money and power.” It will never be enough until I have done what I set out to do.

  “Does money and power make you happy?”

  “Very,” I lie. I haven’t been happy in a very long time. The only way I will find happiness and peace is when I kill the man who took my mother from me. And to achieve that, I need all the money and power I can get.

  I wake up long before she does, and I spend a good bit of that time watching her sleep. She looks relaxed and peaceful, which is odd, considering her situation. Or maybe I just think it’s odd because I sleep with one eye open, even in my own house.

  After a while, I get up to take a shower. The image of Amara in my bed without underwear is fresh in my mind.

  Under the hot spray of water, I grip my cock and start to stroke it. Imagining her tight pussy wrapped around it instead of my own hand. Fuck! I could go in there and have her now. I could make it good for her too, but something is stopping me.

  I want her to be more than a quick fuck. I want her to stay here with me, and even though I need her to obey me, I also don’t want her to hate my guts.

  My hips thrust into my hand on their own as I keep fucking my hand, thinking about the little temptress in my bed. Does she know how fucking sexy she is? Does she realize how she licked her plump lips, making me imagine she is licking my cum off?

  It doesn’t take long before I feel my balls draw together, and the tingle in my spine turns into a full-body spasm. With a groan, I shoot my load all over the tile. Painting the shower with ropes of cum.

  With one hand against the wall, I catch my breath and watch my release wash down the drain, thinking about what a waste it is. My cum belongs in her pussy and nowhere else.

  Soon… very soon.

  I finish my shower and dry off. As usual, I don’t bother covering up as I walk back into my bedroom.

  A gasp fills the room as I enter. I look up and find Amara sitting up in the bed, clasping the blanket to her chest while gawking at me with her mouth hanging open.

  “Well, good morning.” I grin, enjoying how embarrassed she looks even though I’m the one completely naked. My earlier suspicion is only strengthened by her reaction.

  “You’ve never seen a man naked, have you?” At my question, her eyes–that have been glued to my dick for the last five seconds–suddenly find a random spot on the wall to look at.

  “What? Of course, I have,” she quips, swiping some of her tangled-up hair from her face. “I’ve seen plenty of men naked. All kinds of men…”

  “In real life or on the internet?”

  “What does it matter?” She shrugs, looking anywhere in the room besides where I’m standing.

  “It matters because I want to know how experienced you are. It will determine how I’ll fuck you the first time.”

  Taking a few steps toward her, I stand in front of the bed. She finally looks up, and her eyes find mine.

  “I don’t have any experience with men,” she admits as if she is embarrassed by that fact.

  “Good. I’ll be your first and last.” Pride swells in my chest, knowing that no one has ever touched her or made her come. It will be a pleasure to be all of her firsts.

  “So… how does this work?” She tries to change the subject. “Am I going to stay in this room today?”

  “I was going to take you downstairs for breakfast first, introduce you to some of the staff and show you the rooms you are allowed to go in.”

  “Okay. Um, is there more clothes I can wear?”

  “Yes. In the closet. Pick whatever you like.” I wave my hand toward the open door.

  Amara kicks the blanket off her body and gets up from the bed. I watch her body move quickly but gracefully through my room while she is trying her best not to look at me at all.

  I give her a ten-second head start before I follow her into the walk-in closet. As I had hoped, Amara is just slipping her nightgown off, leaving us both standing completely naked only a few feet apart.

  She lets out a little shriek when she realizes I’m here.

  “I’ve already seen you naked,” I point out while picking out my own clothes. “Besides, don’t you want me to get dressed?” I tease her.

  “This is not how I imagined things,” she says, changing the topic yet again.

  “How did you imagine things to be?”

  “I figured you would put me in a cell, some kind of dungeon, maybe.” She grabs the first pair of underwear she finds and puts them on, followed by a bra.

  “The day is still young,” I quip, making her flinch. “I’ve told you, I’ll treat you nicely as long as you behave.” I step into my boxers and pull on my shirt, while Amara takes a dress from the hanger and slips into it.

  “You’ve also beat up my father, basically kidnapped me, and worst of all, you’ve admitted to planning all of this. So, sorry if I don’t believe everything you say.”

  Closing the distance between us, I shove
her against the drawers lining the walls. Crowding her with my body, our size difference becomes more apparent.

  “That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble,” I say, inches from her face. My chest is pressed against hers, letting me feel her hardened nipples through the fabric between us.

  “I’ve heard that a few times. I’ll try to filter what I say… but no promises.”

  “You better do more than try…” I let the threat hang in the air as I step away, giving her some breathing room. She needs to understand that this isn’t a game.

  Even though I like her sass, if she says shit like that in front of the wrong person, I’ll have no choice but to punish her, and she is not going to like that as much as the other things I have planned for her.

  5

  Amara

  Sleeping next to Lorenzo and waking up in his bed is strange. Actually, strange is putting it mildly. Is there a word that comes after strange? If there is, that’s how I’m feeling.

  Even stranger was seeing him walking around naked in front of me like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Maybe it is to him, we are in his bedroom after all. It was definitely new to me, and the way my body reacted was also new territory. The moisture between my legs, the throbbing of my pussy, and the way my nipples tighten… I’ve never felt like this before.

  Knowing who he is and what he has done, I’m ashamed that I react to him like this. What would my father think of me? The thought is like an ice bucket of water dumped on my head. I don’t want to sleep with him, or at least I shouldn’t want to.

  He didn’t take me last night. In fact, he stayed on his side of the bed all night. I know it won’t last long, though. One way or another, I will have to spread my legs for him.

  I really wish I wouldn’t have been such a prude until now. I’ve had two boyfriends, but didn’t do anything besides kissing with either. I don’t know why. It just didn’t feel right at the time.