Truth: A Sinful Series, Book One

by Trilina Pucci

  “Oh, yes.” Opening my purse, I search and find it quickly.

  “Thank you. Please don’t lose your key. You may enter.”

  Here we go.

  I realize I don’t know where I’m supposed to go. All the card said was 9:00 p.m. I look around for someone to ask, but I’m alone. So, I head to the main living room where we first met. The room is full of people all in various forms of conversation, against a backdrop of dim lighting and plush walls. Some are enjoying drinks and engaging in voyeurism, some sharing whispers and roaming hands, while others are obviously past the flirtations and seem headed for straight downstairs. I walk to the bar and order a bourbon, scanning the room, but nothing. No King in sight.

  I’m lost in thought when I’m interrupted by the feel of someone’s arm brushing my own. It makes me jump, and I immediately smile politely at the gray-haired gentleman and look away. I’ve only been here once before, but I have a gut feeling this man didn’t accidentally brush my arm. A couple slides in next to me and begins to make small talk. I don’t want to be rude, but I’m fairly certain they are looking for a third, so I drop “my boyfriend” an embarrassing amount of times before the husband asks, “So, lovely, where is this boyfriend?”

  “Well, funny you should ask. I’m meeting him here. I just don’t know where.” Saying it out loud makes me a bit embarrassed, but his wife left the house in pasties, so I figure they aren’t judging me too much. I look at the man as I finish my sentence, and he looks to his companion worriedly.

  “This isn’t the kind of establishment you let your girlfriend meet you at. You might want to find a new guy. I’m happy to put my application in…” Oh god, I can’t. Rico geriatric is never getting this girl.

  “I’m sure he’s just running late, but I’m flattered. Completely uninterested but flattered nonetheless.”

  The lady friend giggles and pets his chest, leaning across to whisper conspiratorially, “Maybe he’s downstairs? In the rooms? But you need a special key to get down there.”

  My interest is immediately sparked. “Wait, what kind of key? I thought the key was entry into the club itself. What’s yours look like?” I open my clutch to rummage for the key while the hubby pulls out his key. It’s a skeleton key with a C in the center.

  “Oh, my goodness.” I look down to my key. “Mine is different. Look, the entire top of the key is a set of snakes intertwined. Thank you!”

  I can barely contain my excitement as I hop down from my barstool and excitedly retrace my steps from our first night, making my way to the stairs that lead down. There’s an unassuming guard at the top, who stops me in my tracks.

  “Key.”

  I pull out my key and show him, and he nods for me to take the stairs. My feet carry me faster than I even expect to the door. Our door. It’s just as intimidating as it was the first time. My heart is beating out of my chest. There’s so much to say. I want to take back every word I said, but I can’t, so I’ll kiss all the wounds I left on him if he lets me. I put my key into the lock and twist, hearing the click.

  I push the door open slowly. The room is barely lit, creating the sexiest ambiance.

  “King,” I call out as I walk in. The room is the same, but it feels empty without him here. I walk around, running my fingertips over the leather chairs and testing the cuffs on the wall. I make my way over to the bed and sit on the edge, hoping for something to start making sense, when I see a black envelope on the bed.

  I reach out and touch the paper gently, tracing my name written on the front before I pick it up and open it. There’s a single card inside, and I pull it out to read, a smile spread across my face.

  The room starts to spin, and I drop the card. Everything thing seems to move in slow motion. I watch the card float down to the ground, and there’s a buzzing in my ears. He’s using my own words against me. I wanted to explain, make him understand, but he’s set me up to pay me back. This is fucking payment for his heart. He gave it freely, and I treated it carelessly. A breath escapes my lips, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath. I’ve hurt him, and now he wants us even, but I’m not backing down.

  I love him.

  Standing up, I tear from the room and down the hallway, back up the stairs. There’s no guard to be seen, and I head straight to the bar. It doesn’t end like this. We aren’t done until I say we are.

  “King! Now!” My voice echoes through the room, causing more than one person to turn their head as I slap my hand down on the bar top. Except the people I’m yelling at. They’re ignoring me, which makes me think they’ve been told to. Ridiculous! He knows me better.

  I turn to the room, looking from face to face, as a man casting a very large shadow approaches me, his intention clear. He’s going to ask me to leave. I won’t leave without a pound of flesh, and I’m not playing some twisted game of retribution. I’ve never been so angry. Angry for me but mostly angry for King’s attempt to walk away. If I’ve learned anything during this month, it’s that what we have isn’t some switch you can just flip to the Off position. The sooner he realizes it, the better.

  “Key, please.”

  I shake my head with amusement, pulling my key from my clutch.

  “You want my key? Take the fucking thing. Now bring me King.” I toss it to the floor, watching it slide a few feet. I nod for him to pick it up. He looks at me, irritated, leaving it where it lies.

  “You need to leave. I’ll escort you out.” He’s massive and I’m sure he could pick me up right over his shoulder, but I’ll come back. Day after day, night after night, until King looks me in the eye and says we are done. He’s being a fucking coward.

  “Bring me King!” My voice is a roar. He doesn’t have a fucking clue who he is dealing with. The guard puts his hand on my back to lead me out, but I turn toward him, bringing my knee to his balls, causing him to topple forward. I turn in a circle, looking at the faces, all a mix of fear and shock. Taking a deep breath in, I let this moment sink in. I’ll damn him to hell before he ever pulls some shit like this again.

  Silence fills the room. “I’ll repeat myself only once more: I want King.” Looking around the room at the quiet whispers and heads shifting side to side, my attention is called to behind me.

  “I’m here.”

  I WHIP AROUND TO HIS voice coming from the shadows. I want to scream obscenities until he admits he’s a coward. This whole elaborate setup has been to guard himself, make us even. He wants company in his misery, but I’m already there. I’ve never felt such a primal rage. I could kill him for this but not before I fuck him first. The room is eerily quiet, even with the faint sounds of music filling the space. We stare at each other, our anger feeding off each other’s. I can’t see his face, but I know he’s looking directly at me.

  “Is this what you want? To cause a scene? To be humiliated in front of all these people?”

  I can see only his silhouette, but his voice carries from where he stands. I’m not surprised at his meanness. I’m not dissuaded either. I was naïve to think I would win him back without a fight.

  “Is that how you think ‘this’ ends?” I motion between us. “Stop being a fucking coward, King. You’ll only regret this. Trust me, I know.”

  He pushes out of the darkness, finding me quickly. This time I don’t take a step back. He told me once that I didn’t know my own power. I hope he’s prepared for me now that I do.

  The guard steps closer to me warily. “Mr. King, should I escort her out?” the giant finally speaks. I look over, shaking my head.

  “Doesn’t look like you are capable of that task. Get the fuck out of my face before I fire you.” I can feel his eyes burning into my profile as the man does as he’s told. Such a heavy hand this man has.

  I smirk, turning my head to meet King’s rage-filled eyes. “Why are you still here, Ms. Matthews?”

  “Ms. Matthews?” I roll my eyes. “You know why I’m here, King. Don’t play dumb. Your note said to be prepared to beg. I assume this is the portion of
the evening when I do just that.” The surprise on his face is satisfying. He’s thrown.

  He stares for a moment, his eyes angry, calculating, and then he starts to circle me before he stops behind me and leans in to whisper, “I wouldn’t dare play dumb, not with such a cunning little fox, but you know, even the smartest of fox are eaten by the wolf. Is that what you want? To be my dinner? Do you want me to eat you, Drew?” He runs his fingertips down my arm, and a trail of goose bumps erupts. I’m caught off guard by his touch, and I suddenly feel hyperaware of all the eyes on me.

  “Don’t treat me like one of your little games. We’re more than a game.” My voice is low. I look to the faces of the people staring, drawn into our showdown, and I feel tawdry. This isn’t how our moment should go. He’s trying to orchestrate our demise.

  His sneer is hateful as he walks around to face me again. “We aren’t anything. I fucked you, and now it’s done. Get out of my club.”

  My eyes close, unable to look at him. I hear him turn to leave me where I stand when I look up. “Dominic!” My chest heaves from my anger at his stubborn pride. “I’ll never make the same mistake again. You’re mine.” There it is. All my cards on the table.

  He turns back but doesn’t look at me. Instead he looks past me, and I follow his gaze to a blonde seated at the bar. My head swivels back to King, and my hands fist at my sides, my nails making permanent indentations in my palms. Who the fuck? I hate the look on his face as he takes in my reaction. It’s satisfaction. No, it’s vengeance. He nods his head at her, but I don’t dare look over my shoulder. I snap my fingers once, and his eyes dart to mine in surprise.

  “Tell your whore that her services are no longer needed. I can’t exactly hate her for keeping something I own warm when I discarded it in the first place, but if I see her again, I won’t be as gentle with my words, or my actions.” Don’t test me.

  “You own me? Is that why you’re here to stake some claim on me, Drew? You want the world to know I’m yours? Then by all means. Let everyone see.” Stepping back, he begins to pull his suit belt through the loops to unfasten it, a smug look on his face.

  “You want to fuck me in front of all these people?” My question laced with my incredulity .

  “Isn’t that what you want?” He motions for me to undress. “Come on, Drew—what lengths are you ready to travel as retribution for ripping out my fucking heart?” His voice raises at the end as he pulls his belt through the loops so fast it cracks out like thunder into the silence, and I jump. Now we’re getting somewhere.

  I stand still, taking a moment to look around at the eyes transfixed by our show. I’m sure they feel it—the swell of attraction that always seems to vibrate off us, even now, heightened by our anger. The anger that’s been created by my foolish disregard, turned into some kind of evil plan of retribution. The humiliation, disappointment, heartache, all of it… He wants me to feel it because he can’t admit to wallowing in it.

  I’ll play this twisted game of chicken. I see through him, and I need to show him he can trust me with his heart. I focus in on his face, the hurt beneath the anger, the sorrow beneath the pain. He’s gripping his belt in hand, his focus on me. It’s always been on me.

  “Forgive me.” My voice is quiet as I reach for the straps on my shoulders. King’s chest heaves as his eyes search mine with an understanding of what I am doing. He watches intently as the strap falls from my shoulder. “Whatever it takes, King. I’ll do it to make you understand that I’m all in.” His head shakes minutely, frown lines appearing around his face. Tilting his head, he narrows his eyes, giving me a sinister look.

  “On your knees.” His voice is a command. “Begging is usually done from your knees. If you want me, the price for your forgiveness has doubled.” The hurt he feels saturates his words like a torrential rain. He’s drowning in his own despair, capable of breaking us before we get a second chance, but I’m strong enough to take it, so I lower myself down to my knees, keeping my eyes focused on his. My nipples harden at the attention of hungry eyes on this act of submission. He knows I would never roll over and play submissive for any man, but if this is what he needs, I’m willing. I will go to any length to put back together what I destroyed.

  “Is this what you need? Do you require I beg you, submit? Because I will.” Lowering a hand to the ground, I come to all fours, my eyes still pleading for my forgiveness. “If begging is required, then I’m willing to crawl for my redemption.” My hands move one in front of another and begin a slow trek to his feet. King takes a step back, unnerved by my action as I stop in front of him on the ground. The scene is set. I will hurt, do the one act that sacrifices all I fought to maintain until he accepts my love, and then we’re even. It’s never been an eye for an eye because we can only be equal again once I’ve hurt as deeply. It has to be a heart for a heart.

  The belt drops to the floor, but his jaw tightens harder than his cock, which has become the focus point of my destination. My entire body is fevered, hot, guided by our little show. I reach out and run my hands up his legs up toward his massive bulge, but the intensity in his eyes burns into my soul, and I have to close mine to ready myself for what he will say. I’m not foolish enough to think this will be the end.

  “Get out!” he hisses. “I don’t want you anymore. Get off your fucking knees.”

  I open my eyes slowly to the hate etched on his face and prepare for the war I have to fight. Gripping his legs, I pull myself to standing.

  “Goddamn you, Dominic King.” I reach up to him and grab his chin, pulling his face down to meet mine. “You don’t need me to take my clothes off to give you my heart. My pleas won’t make any difference in the depth of your hurt, but I’m sorry I was so irresponsible with your heart. Forgive me.” Just for a moment, his chin drops heavily into my hand, but he jerks it from my fingers just as quickly.

  His hazel eyes are a storm of anger as he touches my collarbone with his fingertips, gently tracing the line. “I never cared for you.”

  Lies said by the devil himself.

  I reach for his hand, but he pulls it away.

  “Stop insulting me with lies. I want you…only you. Forgive me.”

  Anger fills his eyes as he leans in. “Never.”

  “I won’t give up. Forgive me.” I won’t back down.

  “You should give up.”

  Never. “My heart is yours, and I’m willing to let you break me, but I don’t think you want to live with that.”

  He casts his eyes down to the ground and runs his hand through his hair. He lifts his weary head, and for a moment I think I may see my King.

  Placing my hand on his heart, I steady myself for what I’m about to say. “I’m bound to you, King, and I’ll sit at your feet until you trust me to stand by your side.” Taking his hands, I turn them, raising them to my lips and placing a kiss inside as my penance, whispering my prayer. “Forgive me.”

  His eyes stare into mine, his hard expression softens. Then he’s gone again, spinning me around to face the onlookers, one hand on my breastbone. Lowering his mouth to my ear, he pushes himself into my backside, his voice a seductive whisper. “Look at their faces—they like seeing you. The beggar…they can feel your need, Drew, the desire you have for my cock. I bet they can even smell your desire. Do you want to show them? Do you want them to see how much you crave my cum?”

  My breath is unsteady, my mind catapulting into places it’s never dared go. The only constant is the urge my body feels. The need for him. The want for him to touch me. To claim me as his in front of everyone.

  “Yes, I want everyone to know you are mine.”

  His lips turn up against my ear as he begins to caress my breast, and my head falls back onto his chest. Moving his other hand to my head, he grips the back of my hair and pulls it slowly until I follow his lead and dip my body back sideways. He runs his hand down my chest as a show of his power.

  “They want to see. Show them, Drew…show them who owns this body.” His hand travels
back to my neck as he rights me, tightening ever so slightly as the other descends from my breast down my stomach, gripping and kneading my pussy. The sensation is scandalous and welcome.

  My moans accompany the movement instantly but are barely audible over the undulating symphony of our audience. They are uninhibited and pleading, but I’m uncaring of our audience because my body is his and his alone. I try and open my eyes, but the sensation of being devoured has me in its spell, drifting in and out of the waves of pleasure.

  “That’s it, baby. I can feel how wet you are through your clothes. That greedy little pussy can’t help but beg for my cock.”

  “King.” My voice is a shudder, a whisper, and a prayer for the man I love.

  “Tell me who owns you, Drew.”

  “You. You alone.”

  And then he’s gone. My body is instantly cold, shocked back into reality by the absence of his warm breath and his body, and the seduction of his words. My eyes spring open, unfolding the scene before me. It really is Gomorrah: writhing sexuality playing out all around us; palpable sex set off like firecrackers exploding from every corner; moans and gasping breaths filling the space like music. We’ve set the stage for lust to feed. My entire soul is ignited by my urgency to give in to the truth. Our truth.

  He is mine. I am his. Lust was just our lie.

  I turn to face him, hoping he can feel everything I am in this moment. Repentant.

  His eyes are sad. “Do you see what you’ve done? This is what we are now. You walked away and took my hope with you.”

  I shake my head no, letting out an angry groan. “You can never be you without me, King. We’re fated. Two people cut from the same cloth. Don’t you get it? I’m not here for your salvation; I’m here to rejoice with you in your hell. Have me any way you want me. But you are mine alone.”

  His mouth is on mine before I finish. My arms find their place over his strong shoulders as he wraps a capable arm around my waist, the other up my back to my neck, lifting me from the ground I wrap my legs around his waist to be carried backward. We are lips and tongues mixed with passion, desperation, relief, and anger.