by Ella Miles
“Really? You don’t want me to fuck you?”
“You have to beg first,” she says, batting her long eyelashes.
Not going to happen, baby, I don’t beg.
“Fine, you aren’t the only woman on this boat. I’m sure Liesel will have no problem playing. She was, after all, looking for a boy toy to play with. And she knows how good I am in the sack,” I say, releasing her and going for the door handle.
Kai slides in front of the door with a scowl I’ve never seen on her face. Not even when I betrayed her by selling her to Milo.
“You are the biggest ass on the planet.”
“And you are the most stubborn. You want to fuck me, so why are you denying yourself?”
“Because we need to do more than just fuck. I have things I want to talk to you about.”
“I’m not in the mood for a game of truth or lies, sweetheart,” I say.
She hisses. “I don’t want to play a game. I want to talk.”
I shake my head. “Not going to happen. Now, do you want to fuck, or should I go find Liesel?” I wouldn’t really fuck Liesel. I would just find a bottle of bourbon and drink with her until the sun fades. But Kai needs to know she isn’t my boss. I am. Liesel may have shared my past, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to talk.
I stare at Kai who is just as stubborn as I am, and I know I’m not getting laid.
I reach again for the handle, but Kai shoves me back. I barely move, her body is about a tenth of the size my body is, but I step back giving her room.
“Fine, have it your way, asshole,” she says.
She stalks toward me, and I back up like I’m fucking prey. The look of intensity on her face tells me to not stand in her way.
“You think that’s all we are to each other—fuck buddies?” she asks.
“Well, we are also enemies fighting each other for a game.”
She narrows her gaze and stops as my body collides with a wall.
“We are so much more,” she hisses.
“I’m your protector. I’m your enemy. I’m your fucker. Nothing more.”
“You’re also my fucking drug. I want nothing more than to storm out and show you that you can’t just demand I fuck you whenever you want. But one hit, and I’m yours. I can’t quit. I want hit after hit.”
My eyes darken with heat. “And you’re my addiction. One I need to give up for my own survival.”
She reaches her hand behind her body and undoes the ties of her bikini top. I watch as it falls to the floor, giving me the perfect view of her gorgeous tits.
“Then what are we going to do?” she asks.
“Fuck each other until one of us overdoses.”
Her eyelids grow heavy as I remove my shirt and she takes in my sculpted abs. Her gaze drifts to the v that dips into my pants. And her breath hitches.
I love that I make her body respond like that. She can’t control how her body reacts to me.
“I’m the only man who makes you feel this way,” I say, caging her in again.
“Yes.”
I hover close but don’t fucking touch her. When I touch her, an explosion will go off.
I know it.
She knows it.
And I’m prolonging the feeling as long as I possibly can.
“I’m the only man who can touch you and give you pleasure and not pain.” My lips almost make contact with hers, but I stop them.
“Yes.” She pushes her bikini bottoms down, completely vulnerable to me.
I undo my jeans and push them down, retrieve a condom, and put it on. My cock is already hard, and I haven’t even touched her yet.
I look between her legs and see the moisture. She’s dripping, already demanding for me, and I haven’t even kissed her.
My cock will be the first thing that touches her.
I stare at the condom I hate. I want to feel her skin to skin. But I don’t dare get her pregnant.
She spoke once about not being sure if she could conceive. But in order to fuck her without a condom, I would need to have a serious conversation with her. Possibly call a doctor to look at her, and I don’t want to share anything more serious with her. I’ve already led her on too much.
I will protect her, nothing more.
And fucking her without a condom would be more.
“Turn around,” I command.
She does, sticking her ass out, pushing it so close it almost brushes against me.
She turns her head in my direction, her big eyes anticipating the collision of our bodies in a fierce battle neither of us will be able to quit.
I lick my lip instead of hers like I want—the anticipation taunting both of us.
For a woman who doesn’t like being touched, her body is begging for me to grope her all the fucking time. We are magnets pulling toward each other, but also ripping each other away from everything else in our lives.
I stare at her ass.
“Don’t you dare,” she says.
I chuckle. “Your ass will be mine someday soon, little virgin. I will take all of your firsts.
“I took your first kiss.
“I took your first touch.
“I took your first fuck.
“I will take your ass.”
She stiffens.
“But not today. Today, my cock is begging for your dripping pussy.”
Her shoulders relax, and that’s when I take my cue.
I plunge inside her and ignite the spark that only exists between the two of us as I find her tight walls with my cock.
“Jesus, fucking Christ,” Kai cries, not from me pushing her pussy too hard, but from the fucking sweet electricity pulsing between us.
Everything ignites.
The pleasure.
The shock.
And emotions that shouldn’t exist.
I don’t know what this feeling is when I’m in her; the only thing I can describe it as is home. I feel at home when I’m in her. But not the kind of home that comforts and protects you, the kind that pushes your boundaries and creates a chaos of emotions.
I grab her hips, needing more connection as I push into her deeper.
Her legs spread for me, and her ass pushes higher as her face pushes into the wall.
“God, why do we ever stop fucking?”
“I don’t know. We should never stop,” she purrs.
I move my lips over hers. Tasting her purity and desire pouring from her lips. I get drunk on her lips as I thrust into her.
And the cries leaving her throat tell me she’s lost in me.
I slap her ass, watching the pinkness spread and intensify our connection. My heat pushes through her cold, and I can practically see the spark of energy from the firm touch.
“God, it’s too much.”
“Never.”
I slap her ass again as I thrust.
Her body trembles, and I know she’s trying to hold onto her orgasm so this feeling can last longer. But it’s impossible to hold onto. Just like us, the feeling is fleeting. Every day is a gift, and tomorrow it could all be taken away from us.
“I can’t hold on,” she cries.
“Then let go.”
She bites down on her lip, trying to wait, but it’s impossible to hold onto. She lets go. Her orgasm ripples from her head to her toes. Her body trembles. Her body flames. Her pussy tightens, coming hard on my cock.
And as much as I want to hold on, I let go too. Spilling everything I have into the condom still deep within her core.
I need a bed to collapse into, I’m so spent from fucking her against the wall. She is too. I wrap my arms around her, holding her up, knowing I’ll need to carry her to a bed.
She has her own bed she might want to sleep in. I gave her the choice of freedom, but tonight I’m not giving her that choice. And she’s never once chosen her bed over mine anyway.
So I lift her body and cradle her as I carry her to my bed. As soon as I regain my strength, I will fuck her again, and that’s easier to do if
she’s here in my bed instead of hers. I would have to break her door down to get to her otherwise.
I climb into bed next to her as the buzzer on my door goes off. I really need to have that removed.
I dig my phone out of my jeans I threw on the floor next to the bed to see who is at the door.
Archard.
Fuck.
“What’s wrong?” Kai asks, so in tune with my emotions right now I couldn’t hide anything from her.
“It’s Archard.”
She frowns.
I press a button on a panel that connects me to the outside.
“What do you want, Archard?” I ask.
“I need to speak to both you and Miss Miller.”
I’m not about to let him into my personal cabins or anywhere near a naked Kai again.
“You are speaking to both of us,” Kai says, reading my thoughts.
I see Archard’s reluctant face. He wants to talk to us in person—too fucking bad.
“Tomorrow. The next game will happen tomorrow. You won’t have to leave the ship. But you will face your greatest weaknesses. Those you care about and love will be at risk. And you won’t be able to save them, even from yourselves,” Archard says.
Kai and I exchange glances at the warning for the game. The clue proves a problem because Kai no longer has anyone she loves. Her father was the only person she loved, and after his betrayal, she hates him.
And I am not capable of true love. Sure I love Zeke and Langston. I care about Liesel and Kai, but my father, who created this game, wouldn’t know about my feelings for any of them. And the clue specifically said love; my father made sure I never loved anyone.
Love equalled weakness to my father. And my father made sure I never showed weakness by doing something as stupid as falling in love.
19
KAI
ARCHARD’S WORDS haunt me all night.
Someone I love is going to be hurt, and there is nothing I can do to prevent it.
It scares the crap out of me.
And I don’t sleep one second all night.
Enzo doesn’t either.
But neither of us talk about what the game could be. He just holds me in his arms all night.
After our first fuck, we both intended to spend the rest of the night fucking each other’s brains out. But after Archard spoke, we couldn’t. They only way we could have had sex would have been slowly, intimately, and vulnerably. And neither of us wanted that moments before we were going to have to compete.
So we didn’t.
We didn’t speak.
We didn’t fuck.
We simply held each other all night, both of us dreaming about what tomorrow was going to hold.
Hurt someone I love.
The only person I love is Enzo.
But I doubt I will be the one hurting him.
And Enzo loves no one.
I thought he did, and he just didn’t show me. But after hearing Liesel speak, after fucking him so hard last night, I know he truly doesn’t love me. He can’t love. His heart is too broken to love. Whatever his father did fucked him up in a way I’m not sure I can fix him. And that breaks my heart.
We’ve been living in the shadow of Milo hunting us. So consumed by running from him and trying to figure out how best to kill him that we both forgot about the game. And that we were going to have to compete against each other.
I’m the first to leave the bed.
I’m the first to shower and get ready.
The first to declare us nothing but enemies.
This round is going to be harder than the first. The first round, my father chose the game. This round, Enzo’s father designed it. And somehow, despite my father being the man who sold me, I think Enzo’s father may have been worse.
The game Enzo’s father chose for us is going to be much harder than the first. And even after one of us wins, who knows what the consequences of that win be.
After the first game, Enzo sold me because he thought I betrayed him. It led to a war we will eventually have to wage against Milo.
That was before I realized I had fallen for him. Now that my heart is involved, I don’t know how I’m going to handle any pain Enzo exerts against me during the game.
It’s just a game. We don’t have a choice. I can’t let anything Enzo does get to me.
That’s what I continually tell myself as I walk to the main deck where Archard is waiting for us—alone.
I walk over to Archard without a word, dressed in dark jeans and a gray T-shirt. My hair is pulled back in a low ponytail. I might as well have painted war paint on my face, because that is what I’m preparing for—war.
Enzo approaches Archard as well. Dressed similarly, jeans, boots, and a dark T-shirt. The only difference is the bulge in his waistband where he carries his gun as always.
Unlike last time, Langston and Zeke aren’t by his side. He comes alone. Most likely because he is no longer sure if Langston or Zeke would be on his side or mine. Or maybe he’s trying to make the fight fair this time.
Enzo’s eyes hold the weight of the world—like he is walking to his own funeral. He knows his father better than anyone. And he knows that whatever his father planned for us is going to kill, or at least ruin, us.
Archard looks to each of us, then down at a piece of paper in his hands. The paper has the rules of this game on it. The paper will destroy whatever relationship Enzo and I have built.
“Get on with it,” Enzo growls, no longer having any patience for this game or process.
This is only the second game. And already it’s too much for either of us.
Archard doesn’t react, completely unfazed by Enzo’s outburst.
My eyes snap to Enzo’s, and I see the worry and pain in the frown lines of his face, and my stomach flips again, knowing whatever we will face will be personal in a way the last game wasn’t.
“If you will follow me, Mr. Rinaldi,” Archard says to Enzo.
Enzo frowns as Archard begins to walk away.
“What about me? What about the rules?” I ask, not liking being left out.
“I will share the rules when I get back. The game is to be told to each of you individually,” Archard says.
I hate it. If we are told together, then maybe I will get some clue from Enzo about how to handle the game. But now, we will both be in the dark.
Enzo doesn’t look back as he follows Archard into the depths of the yacht. I’m left standing on the main deck alone, with nothing but the warm salty breeze to keep me company.
Why couldn’t the game be something easy, like chess? Some sort of strategy game that determines how well our brains work. But I know that isn’t what this is. Whatever awaits me in the rooms below deck is dark, and most likely, the cruelest thing I have faced yet.
Alone I stand.
Alone I wait.
Alone I tremble.
The wait stretches, and the fear creeps into every nerve in my body. I’m shaking, I’m cold, and I’m worried.
But I can’t let the fear win. This is part of Enzo’s father’s plan. I will not let him destroy me, not like this.
I close my eyes, already feeling my body shut down. Maybe, just maybe, I can use that to my advantage for once. I don’t want to shut everything down; I won’t be able to do any task that way. I need to feel, just not the fear.
Let it go.
Let it out.
I feel the fear as I push it out of my core. And I focus on Enzo.
The love I hold in the depths of my heart is everything. I didn’t let myself feel that love before—not fully. But I do now. Because his love is the only thing that might save me.
I force myself to feel instead of shutting the world out. Feel the torture I felt when I watched Enzo walk away from me and not knowing what he was about to face. Feel the love I felt when he held me in his arms all night, the man who shot and killed a man for wanting me. Enzo Black may be most people’s hell, but he’s my heaven.
Archard r
eturns silently, my eyes are still closed, but I can feel him near me. Because he brings Enzo’s pain. I feel it as clearly as I feel my own heartbeat.
Enzo is in pain. The kind that will stay with him for the rest of his life.
Fuck.
“Is there any way to stop this? Can I just withdraw?” I ask, my eyes still closed.
“You can withdraw, but Enzo would still have to complete the rest of the games himself in order to keep the empire. Once the games have started, there is no stopping it,” Archard says.
Fuck Enzo’s father. Fuck my own father. Fuck generations of our families before us, wanting us to play this twisted, vicious game all so the strongest would rule the empire. Fuck it all.
“Are you ready, Miss Miller?” Archard asks.
I laugh. Such a ridiculous question. I’m not ready—never.
I open my eyes until I’m sure the blue in my irises has turned to red. That’s all the answer Archard is going to get. But it seems to be enough.
He starts walking.
I follow, the fear gone, replaced by rage. Enzo is hurting, and there is nothing I can do except end this game as quickly as fucking possible. But if I win, then that puts me up two to nothing. I don’t want the empire. I can’t handle ruling. Enzo deserves it all.
It’s a no-win situation.
I push those thoughts out of my head for now. I don’t even know what the game is yet; I need to focus on that first.
Archard goes to one of the cabins I’ve never been in before. I know this is where most of the crew sleeps, in cabins near here.
He opens the door silently and holds it open for me to step inside.
Zeke.
He’s standing inside looking as clueless as to why he’s standing there as I am entering the room.
He’s wearing the usual uniform of jeans, boots, and a dark T-shirt. His hands are in his pockets, making the muscles in his arms bulge. The man is huge. Like Jason Momoa huge. And Zeke has the long locks to match tied up in a man bun.
Is Zeke here to help me complete this game?
That should comfort me. Instead, the butterflies in my stomach return in the form of wasps, stinging, and raging in my belly.
“This game is simple and is all about testing the belief that you are able to put the Black empire first, above everything that you hold dear,” Archard starts.
