Truth: A Sinful Series, Book One

by Trilina Pucci

  “Yes. Feel it, Drew. You’re mine, meant for me.” King pulls the toy from me, eliciting his own roar of satisfaction with his last thrusts, filling me with his warm release.

  My muscles start to relax, and my breathing begins to calm as I open my eyes to King’s hazel stare. I can tell he’s waiting for a thank-you. Sexy, arrogant asshole.

  “Are you going to stare at me all day, or are you going to untie me?”

  “I’m undecided.” He winks, motioning for me to roll over.

  I roll to my side, and he unties my hands with a deft swiftness that gives away his expertise.

  “Nice party trick.” Grinning, I rub my wrists to alleviate the burn.

  “I took a class at the Y.” He pulls me toward him and turns my hands palm side up and kisses the insides of my wrists. “No permanent marks.”

  I can’t reconcile how he can be so aggressive but so tender. He doesn’t make any sense. I pull my wrists away and sit up, turning my back to him to stand. “Oh yeah, I think I saw that one. It’s called ‘How to be a perv and win girls’?”

  “If I’m a perv, you’re a perv.” King grips my waist, pulling my back to the front of his body and snaking his arm around to cup my breast as he begins a new assault on my neck.

  “Are you quoting The Notebook to me?” The end of my sentence trails off as the sexy kicks in.

  “No, that was about birds. Plus, you really think I’m the kind of guy that builds a girl a house in the hopes she’ll come back to me?”

  “No, but I do think you’re the kind of guy that has secretly seen The Notebook.” I can’t hold my laughter in, and I’m met with King’s hands punishing my sides with tickles.

  “Quit! King, stop, I’m gonna pee!”

  Breaking away, I take off across the room, but he’s faster and stronger, catching me before I make it to the door and sweeping me up into his arms. I scream with laughter, brushing the hair from my face. Looking into his eyes, I see the glimmer and watch it fade into what looks like doubt.

  “What kind of man do you think I am, Drew.” His tone is serious.

  “The kind that gets what he wants,” I answer honestly.

  “Don’t ever forget that.” His words are a warning. “And I know what I want.” He places me back on my feet, and I turn to walk back to the bed, unwilling to bite, but he catches my wrist.

  “What kind of woman do you think I am, King?” I want to be the reflection I see in his eyes, but I’m scared.

  “The kind that’s forgotten how much power she holds.”

  I’ve never felt more accountable for the fragments of myself that I gave up.

  King collapses on top of me, my body still trembling, my grip still glued to his back. I rub my fingers over the welts I created with my fingernails, and he grimaces.“Owww, easy, tiger,” he laughs.

  “Sorry, I got away from myself…” I kiss his neck, running my tongue over the tattoo that stops at his collarbone. His pecs and both arms are covered in an intricate design woven together like each depend on the other, like a tribal chain link.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. Every time I see those marks in the mirror, my dick’s going to get hard.”

  He pulls out of me, making me draw in my breath. I feel raw, stretched, and ravished. He’s right: he’s ruined me. I’ve never had sex on a level in which I was quite literally lost in another person. I’m overcome by the need to be closer, to feel him deeper, and we nearly tore each other apart. We did tear my bra apart. Note to self, no more “delicates” around this man. Shit, not that there is a next time.

  “Scoot closer.” The gravel in his voice gives away his fatigue.

  I do as I’m told, molding my body to his, hoping that my warning will stick but knowing it won’t.

  We lie there, spooned and cocooned in our own little world. His breathing is heavy, but I can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking, a thousand thoughts running through my head. I’ve never been with someone like him, someone so dominant and yet so insistent on my equality. He is all grown-ass man, and I’m addicted. Now that I’ve had a taste, how do I walk away? I know we said just for tonight, but maybe…maybe nothing, I catch myself before I get too far down the fantasy trail. I need my independence, the freedom to rediscover myself without the expectations of another man.

  I need to get my shit together, and I am not ready for Dominic King.

  “Spill. I can almost hear your goddamn thoughts. I’m never going to sleep if your wheels keep spinning. Speak, woman.”

  Turning over quickly, not at all surprised by his intuition, I snuggle into my pillow as he readjusts his hand to lie heavily on my hip. His eyes are still closed, like he is committed to his sleep. The thought makes me smile. He’s stubborn. I can’t help but allow myself the indulgence of taking in all his features. God his lips are perfect. I keep staring, taking in the tiny dark brown beauty mark at the top of his eyebrow and the tiny white scar by the bottom of his lip.

  Reaching out, I trace it with the tip of my finger only to be met with King’s teeth as he snaps out to nab my fingers without hurting me.

  “Ahhh!” I scream out and begin to giggle. “Don’t bite!”

  “But you like it when I bite.”

  My cheeks flush from the truth of that statement.

  “How’d you get that scar anyway?”

  “Knife fight.” His face stays calm and unmoving.

  “Ha-ha, seriously…” I roll my eyes, my voice laced with my disbelief.

  “Seriously.”

  I can’t tell if he is joking or if he’s serious. The idea that at some point in his life he was mixed up with some kind of criminal element isn’t surprising. His entire demeanor screams dangerous even though I’m not frightened. He’s more dangerous to my heart because I am angrier at the idea someone hurt him rather than the fact that he was in a knife fight.

  Opening one eye, he looks at me and smiles. “I cut it on the corner of a coffee table when I was a kid, running through the house with my brother.”

  I can’t help but smile. Maybe I’m relieved a bit.

  “I know you have more questions, but you only get two more because after that I’m going to do a better job of fucking you to sleep.”

  “You asked that guy, at the club, if he knew who you are. Who are you? Are you a bad guy?” I don’t think he’s a bad guy… but it doesn’t mean he can’t be.

  “I’m someone who doesn’t like to share, and sometimes that makes me a bad guy to take from.”

  “That’s too vague. That shouldn’t count as a question because the answer was bullshit.”

  “Nice try, sweetheart. That was two questions.” Opening his eyes slowly, he rolls toward me, pinning me underneath and straddling me.

  “No way, not fair.” My rebuttal is weak at best. I think it’s pretty obvious I like this game better.

  “My turn, gorgeous. Truth or Dare?”

  Biting my lip, I wrinkle my nose to feign irritation, when I actually feel the opposite. “What’s with you and the Truth or Dare? Do girls really eat this stuff up?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I’ve only ever tried it on you, and seeing as I had such a fantastic result, I’d like to give it another go.”

  I can’t help but roll my eyes at his arrogance. “Truth. I’ll never pick dare. No way—I don’t trust you or myself.”

  His laugh fills the room. “Fair enough. So, truth. Let me think of a good one.” Leaning down, he takes a nipple in his mouth, making a throaty moan come from me, then lets it go with a pop. “What’s your last name?”

  “Matthews. You really are a lazy stalker.”

  “I am, but I need to know you.” He kisses the tip of my nose as he dismounts my body to lie beside me.

  “I’m an open book but only for twelve more hours or so,” I say, reaffirming the inevitable end of this affair.

  “Ah yes, our ending. Well, I guess I’ll have to ask you everything I can, then.”

  I smile at the thought of this Pandora’s box. I can alr
eady tell he is going to have more than one or two questions. “I’m an open book.”

  “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone…ever.” He snuggles into his pillow, and we lie face-to-face.

  I narrow my eyes. “I’ve killed a man.” I try to make my voice as believable as possible.

  “Me too.” His face is impassable, serious, his voice cold. We sit staring at each other until wrinkles form around his eyes from his smile. “Just kidding.”

  “That’s not funny. You are too good at acting; you had me for just a minute.”

  “And you lay here? You thought I was a murderer and you just lay here?” His laugh is disbelieving and makes me laugh too.

  “Look, nobody’s perfect and you’re pretty good with that mouth…sooo.”

  “Saucy, saucy woman.”

  My yawn breaks free as King pulls me to him. I rest my head on his chest and listen to his breathing become steady and deep.

  I drift, my eyelids drooping closed, my body feeling heavy and melting into King’s. As I fall deeper, a voice whispers into my dreams: “I’ll never find another you, so I’m never letting go.”

  “WAS HE MEAN IN OTHER ways?” He questions while drawing swirls with his fingertips along my collarbone. True to his word, he’s been asking me everything he can think of since we woke up around 11:00 a.m.

  “No, just a self-esteem slayer. Well…I don’t know. Kind of.” I shrug, feeling sympathetic toward the girl I used to be. It seems so long ago even though it’s only been a weekend that I’ve been away.

  Sitting up, his frown lines deepen. “What does ‘kind of’ mean.” His eyes are on me, looking for any visible representation of Nick’s cruelty.

  “No, no like that. He didn’t hit me…it was just, he used sex as a weapon. I’ve never said this out loud. But once he squeezed my bottom especially hard and played it off like a sexy punishment. And he pinched my nipple so hard it left a bruise, all in the name of ‘angry sex,’ but it just felt mean and cruel. I told myself he would never really hurt me because I was so fragmented and desperate to make it work. I always felt so degraded, humiliated that I wasn’t stronger, more in control, but I believed he loved me. Wow, it feels good to say that out loud.” My burden had become my secret.

  “So, he was mean in other ways.” His eyes are cold.

  “Yes, he was. He could be cruel, but it was always masked as something else. I never realized it in the moment because of the manipulation, and hindsight wasn’t my friend because by then I wondered if I was overreacting or being overly sensitive. I’m damn glad to be done. I’ll never let another man put me on my hands and knees again.” He smiles at my last words, and I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  “I hope I get to meet him one day.” I’m pretty sure King isn’t looking for new friends. Nick better hope they never meet. A tiny part of me wishes they would.

  Hoping to lighten the mood, I add, “Oh, hell no! That’s all I need is for you to start choking every ex-boyfriend I ever disliked.” I smirk, envisioning King on a rampage through my hometown.

  “I will, with your permission of course. I’ll even say please.” I’m grateful for laughter, but his smile never quite reaches his eyes. I know he won’t forget this conversation.

  Laughing, I lean forward and kiss those perfect lips. I want this moment to last forever. How can I have just met a man and feel so connected and protected?

  “Just fuck me, you big dummy!” His smile is contagious, and I can feel the heat in my cheeks.

  “Say please.” His voice is sensual, the words calming our playfulness. I can’t help but stare as he accentuates his statement by pulling in his bottom lip and biting it as his eyes drift down my body.

  “Please. Fuck. Me. King.” I accentuated each word like swigs of gasoline being thrown on a fire.

  I am met with the sexiest smile as he brings his knees in between my legs, pausing only as a recognition that we are going to burn this damn place to the ground.

  We sleep for another hour before dragging ourselves away from each other. As I put my dress back on, I realize I don’t have underwear or a bra to wear, which is probably a good thing.

  “Hungry?” His pearly whites gleam from that gorgeous smile.

  “Hell yes.” I grab my heels and put them back on, then run my fingers through my hair. “I need to wash my face, and I need a toothbrush. Got any spares for your hookers?”

  “Ha, use mine, hater.”

  Smiling, I make my way to the bathroom to wash my face and give myself a quick wipe down with a washcloth. I brush my teeth the whole time, trying to ignore my rumbling tummy.

  “Come on, gorgeous. I’m getting grumpy… Car’s waiting.”

  “Coming,” I call out, grabbing my purse from the counter when I round the corner. King is standing at the door in jeans, a white T-shirt, and sneakers. My god, I’ve never seen something so sexy. All six foot four of him, with his dark brown hair and stubble, just leaning against the doorframe exuding sex appeal.

  “I think I’m a little overdressed.” I do a little spin.

  “You’re perfect.”

  Grabbing my waist, he kisses me, then leads me to the car.

  We drive out to a little restaurant overlooking the river in the city. It has an elegant dining room, bordered in glass walls with linen tablecloths and crystal glassware that pulls just enough sparkle from the sun on the surrounding patio that a tiny rainbow is reflected on the corner of the table we pass.

  Sitting outside on the patio, he orders for the both of us while I enjoy the scenery. It doesn’t feel controlling but rather polite. The weather depicts a perfect summer day, and the sun on my shoulders feels lovely. I rest my head back with my eyes closed to take it all in, letting the heat wash over me. I stay like that for a long moment. I’m almost too afraid to open my eyes because this moment feels surreal and yet so perfectly natural. It’s like a preview into my future—a future I know isn’t an option.

  “What time is it?” I ask, knowing there isn’t an answer I’m going to like.

  “Regretting our twenty-four-hour agreement?” I can hear his smile, his cocky hopefulness.

  “No, my phone is dead, and time just seems to be moving and stopping all in the same day. It’s been a little whirly.” I laugh, opening my eyes to his staring right into me. “Stop looking for a deeper meaning, King.” Even I can hear the lie woven into my words.

  “But there is one. I can see it.”

  “How can you see anything?” I squint because I’m lacking sunglasses, and I put my hand up to block the sun while I try and deflect.

  “Here, baby.” Holding out his glasses across the pristine white-linen table, he winks, and I take them, giving my eyes immediate reprieve.

  “Chivalry isn’t dead.” The waiter delivers our food, serving King first.

  “You spoke too soon.” His smile is ironic as he examines his food. He scoops up the yolk with his toast, then pops it into his mouth. “How’s your food, gorgeous?”

  “Fantastic. I’m embarrassed to be inhaling my crepes so quickly, but it’s so good. I’ve been wanting to try this place out but haven’t gotten around to it…” My voice trails off at the end. I don’t want to talk about my old life. The life I had pre-weekend.

  “Why?” His forehead wrinkles, fork held midair. I love/hate that he’s so perceptive.

  “Well, for one I live far from the city, which I hate because work is all consuming lately.” I hated the house Nick chose to rent when we moved in together—so suburban, so removed from all the damn fun.

  “Tell me what you do.”

  “Am I going to have to do all the work? Sheesh. I work for a company that specializes in social media marketing and branding.” I love my job, I love that I work with my best friend, and I love the fast pace of it all.

  “Gorgeous and smart.” I wink as a thank-you for the compliment and nab a grape from his plate. Placing it into my mouth, I savor the crisp flavor. King just watches my face and then calls
the waiter. “Bring a bowl of grapes for the lady.”

  “Yes, sir, right away.”

  Looking down, I notice only two more grapes on his plate, and I’m embarrassed. Did I misstep? Did I fall short on my manners? My eyes search his. I hate this feeling like I’ve done something wrong, misjudged. This doubt is too familiar; my baggage seems to be tied to my psyche like a weight pulling me under. How have I walked into another situation like this, another man embarrassed by me? I hate that my mind is even going there. The scent of my own weakness makes me want to gag on the damn grape, but I can’t make my tiny panic-monster stop growing. I can feel it taking over all the rational thoughts and finding comfort in my insecurities. How easily I fall back into routine.

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize tak—”

  The waiter returns with the bowl and sets it in front of me before I finish. I can feel the burn in my eyes, and I’m damn glad I’m wearing sunglasses. Although I know I have nothing to be embarrassed by, eating off a lover’s plate is as normal as it gets, but I can’t stop second-guessing… This is why I can’t do whatever this is with him—this is why. I open my mouth to finish my sentence when he reaches over the table and takes the bowl, emptying it on his plate.

  “Are you going to have some more?” He smiles and continues eating, giving me a wink.

  I’m not prepared for him. Not even a little. He’s going to annihilate my heart.

  “Yes, I think I am.” I beam, popping another into my mouth. His words from earlier whisper themselves into my ear: “One who’s forgotten all the power she holds.” Goddamn him for being right.

  We chat and eat until my belly is full of grapes off his plate and he has eaten more pancakes than one person should ever eat. Signaling for the waiter, King tells him, I assume, to bring the check.

  “Ready, gorgeous?”

  “Are we dining and dashing? I don’t think I wore the right shoes for that.”