King's Price

by Jackie Ashenden

  She looked wanton. Sensual. So desirable it was all I could do not to lose control completely and drive myself inside her until I passed out.

  ‘See?’ I gripped her hip, pushing in deeper, as deep as I could get. ‘See how beautiful you are. How fucking sexy. And that look in your eyes... Christ, sweetheart. So much passion.’ I drew myself out of her in a long, slow glide, pleasure making my fingers dig into the soft flesh of her hip. Then I pushed back in, deeper. Harder. She groaned, gripping tightly to the rail. ‘That’s what I see, Vita. That’s what I want.’ I drew back once more before thrusting into her slick heat again, gritting my teeth against the intense rush of pleasure. ‘That’s what I see in you. That is you.’

  She gasped again as I pulled out then made another desperate sound as I thrust back in, her gaze fixed on her reflection in the mirror.

  Watching her watch herself as I fucked her, as her pussy gripped me tight as a glove, was the most erotic experience I’d ever had in my life. Because there was wonder in her eyes. As if she was seeing herself for the first time.

  I’d done that for her. I’d done that to her.

  I’d made her look. I’d made her see how beautiful she was. How passionate.

  Me, who’d only ever given others pain.

  A hot, possessive feeling uncoiled in my chest, making me growl. Making me slam my cock deeper into her tight sex.

  Her gaze came to mine, her eyes black in the dim light, and yet with that paradoxical bright glow. Full of stars.

  ‘Leon.’ Her voice was husky and I could hear the desperation in it. ‘Oh, God... Leon...’

  The way she said my name, as if I was the only one who could give her what she needed, intensified the pleasure that licked up my spine by a million fucking degrees.

  I’d wanted to hold her on the edge, fuck her until she was screaming, all the while staying in control myself. But as soon as my name left her mouth I knew that wasn’t going to happen.

  So I reached around her, slid one hand over her stomach and down, finding her slick little clit. ‘Watch,’ I said roughly, stroking her as I thrust deep. ‘Watch yourself come, sweetheart.’

  And she did, her gaze fixed to her own reflection as I slammed deep inside her, holding my finger down and circling, stroking. Then her mouth opened and her back arched and her pussy clamped down hard on my cock as the climax took her. At the last minute, though, it wasn’t herself she looked at as she cried out in ecstasy.

  It was me.

  Staring at me with wonder. With awe. As if I was more than a monster in an expensive suit, a criminal with a pretty face.

  As if I was someone worth looking at.

  I’d told her what I’d seen in her. But what did she see in me?

  Ah, fuck, what did that matter? It didn’t. Not when her pussy was rippling around my cock, wet silk and heat and the pleasure that was rapidly making me lose my bloody mind.

  All it took was one last thrust and the orgasm took me like a fucking hammer, exploding in my head. And it wasn’t her who ended up screaming and blind with pleasure. It was me, roaring her name, seeing nothing but those bright eyes watching me as I came.

  Afterwards I couldn’t move—could only stand there with my legs shaking as I tried to get myself the fuck together.

  Her head was hanging down, her hands gripping white-knuckled onto the rail, her body trembling as much as mine with the aftershocks.

  I pulled out of her slowly, relishing the shiver she gave as I did so, dealing with the condom to dispose of later. Then I turned back to her, pulling her underwear back up and tugging her dress down, smoothing it in place. Slipping an arm around her waist, I got her to straighten then drew her against me, enjoying her soft warmth as she leaned into me, her head tipping back against my shoulder.

  She looked at me in the mirror from beneath her lashes, the dark glitter of her eyes making my insatiable cock harden again.

  I hadn’t thought of what we’d do after I’d been inside her. But now, as I met her gaze, it all became very, very clear.

  ‘I’m taking you home,’ I said, not caring how rough my voice sounded. ‘To my place. You okay with that?’

  She gave a nod.

  ‘And screw whether sex was in our agreement or not,’ I went on, because this was not going to be a one-off thing, no way in hell. ‘It is now.’

  She sighed. ‘I suppose there’s not much point arguing with you, is there?’

  ‘No.’ I spread my hand possessively on her stomach. ‘Did you want to?’

  ‘Not really.’ She gave me a hesitant look. ‘It’s just sex, though?’

  ‘Of course.’ My gaze sharpened on hers. ‘If you’re wanting more—’

  ‘I don’t.’ The words were emphatic. ‘Just sex is fine with me. We let the chemical reaction burn itself out, right?’

  Ah, yes. She was fond of her chemicals, wasn’t she?

  ‘Right,’ I confirmed. Satisfaction spread through me, and I turned my head into her neck, nipping at her delicate skin possessively.

  In the mirror her mouth curved. She had a lovely smile and the knowledge that I’d put it there made my heart beat hard.

  ‘I owe you a thank you,’ she said quietly.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For showing me what you did. For making me see myself.’

  The stark honesty in the words reached inside me, making my chest feel tight and uncomfortable.

  Most people ended up cursing my name rather than thanking me and I’d never got any gratitude from my father for all the years of service I’d given him.

  ‘Anyone could have done that for you, sweetheart,’ I said, making light of it, because Christ knew I didn’t want heavy. ‘All you needed was some appreciation. Lots of guys can give you that.’

  ‘Lots of guys might but you were the one who noticed and saw what I needed in the first place.’ Her expression was serious, her gaze searching mine. ‘And you were the one who cared enough to give it to me.’

  That honesty again—fuck, it was a killer. Some part of me loved it, lapping that up and her gratitude along with it like a thirsty dog with a bowl of water. Yet at the same time another part of me hated it.

  She shouldn’t be grateful to a man who’d once used violence and blackmail the same way a builder used a hammer and nails. Not when she’d already been targeted by one bastard, and certainly not when I was an even bigger bastard than the man who’d filmed her.

  I might have left my days of violence and blackmail behind me, but that didn’t mean I was a good man.

  ‘Why did you do that?’ she asked when I didn’t speak.

  ‘You ask too many questions, sweetheart,’ I murmured and, bending my head, I kissed her hard.

  Before she could ask me anything else that I didn’t have the answer to.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Vita

  I WOKE UP SUDDENLY, not sure what had woken me. It might have been because I wasn’t in my own bed in my little terrace house in Newtown, but in Leon’s penthouse apartment overlooking Sydney Harbour.

  The walls of the bedroom were nothing but windows and he didn’t like obscuring the incredible view with something as mundane as blinds. Which meant I’d been woken at sunrise each morning after our last couple of dates with dawn flooding into the room and Leon’s hands on my body, working his magic with his mouth and his fingers. And his cock.

  But it wasn’t dawn now and the bed beside me was empty.

  In fact, it was full night, the lights of the harbour stretched out in front of me, with the Opera House below and beyond that the bridge in a shining arc.

  No point in trying to go back to sleep. I probably wouldn’t, not when Leon wasn’t there.

  I slipped out of bed, searching around for my clothes before remembering they were out in the lounge, where Leon had ripped them off me after we’d got back fro
m the nightclub.

  Our fourth date and we hadn’t even been there half an hour before Leon leaned in and whispered in my ear that the club could go fuck itself. He wanted to fuck me instead.

  That had been the pattern after he’d taken me in the lift. We’d meet up in public, make a desultory attempt at conversation, then go back to his place where he’d have me naked and screaming his name within minutes.

  Perhaps I should have been worried that every time he touched me I’d become putty in his hands. But I told myself that was simply due to the physical chemistry that we were burning out, and once that was gone it would be over.

  Besides, in the mirrors of the lift that night, he’d shown me something in myself that I’d never seen before, a beauty and sensuality that I’d always thought was my sister’s, never mine. But I’d seen it as he pushed into me and the pleasure had taken hold—as I watched myself come apart in the mirror right in front of me.

  It should have been exposing but it wasn’t.

  With him behind me, the evidence of his desperation driving into me, his dark amber gaze pinned to our reflections, I’d felt beautiful for the first time in my life. Desirable. Wanted.

  All the things I’d wanted to feel with Simon and hadn’t.

  It was the first time I’d ever felt any of those things and I couldn’t give them up, not yet. Not while Leon could give them to me.

  Anyway, I’d be careful to make sure only my body surrendered. Everything else remained my own and that was how it would stay.

  Since my clothes weren’t there, I found the dark blue shirt Leon had been wearing earlier that evening discarded over a low white chair opposite the bed and put it on.

  I shivered as his warm scent enveloped me, making hunger turn over in my gut. I wanted him again, craved his touch and the way he made me feel.

  He’d told me anyone could give me that, but he was wrong. No one had bothered looking past my façade for years, because no one had been interested enough.

  But he had.

  He hadn’t given me an answer as to why, or what he got out of sleeping with me, not when there were plenty of women far more beautiful than I was to choose from, but unusually for me, I’d decided not to question further. Some things didn’t stand up to scientific testing; you simply had to accept them for what they were. And I was sure that the sexual relationship I had with Leon wouldn’t stand up to any kind of testing at all.

  The thought made me uneasy. I wasn’t used to not questioning things I didn’t understand, but I didn’t want anything to disturb the delicate balance between Leon and me so I ignored the feeling.

  Moving out of the bedroom, I went down the long hallway that led to the lounge area.

  It was a beautiful space, lots of windows to let in the brilliant sun and the amazing view. The walls were as pale as the carpet, the furniture upholstered in the same shades. It was clean, minimalist and very, very sophisticated.

  I paused in the doorway, finding Leon sitting on the low white sofa, bare feet propped on the coffee table in front of him, laptop in his lap, staring down at it. He wore only his suit trousers, the light from the screen illuminating the cut muscles of his chest and abs and throwing shadows off his strong jaw and high cheekbones.

  My heart squeezed at the sheer masculine beauty of him.

  It seemed incredible that someone so breathtakingly beautiful should be mine. Or at least mine for a little while. And that he should find me just as beautiful and desirable as I found him.

  Sometimes it felt like a dream. The secret fantasy of the ‘I Love You Girl’. Where the ugly duckling didn’t have to be a swan at all; she could be just a duck and be wanted all the same.

  I leaned my head against the doorframe, staring at him, breathless. My fingers itched, longing to explore that hard-muscled body. Yet the nights we’d been together he’d strip me naked and spread me out on the floor of the lounge, or the couch or up against the window, and explore me with abandon, all the lights on so he could see me.

  But when it came to me touching him, he’d be reticent. Not letting me until we were in the bedroom and the lights were off. It was another thing I hadn’t questioned since he was good at distracting me. However, I was thinking about it now and it puzzled me.

  Getting to know him hadn’t seemed important before, not when our marriage wouldn’t be a real one, yet it suddenly felt important to me now.

  He’d shown me why he wanted me, healing a wound I hadn’t known was still painful, yet what did he get out of sleeping with me? Physical pleasure, sure, but there had to be something else. Something he couldn’t get from those other, more beautiful women.

  I took the opportunity to study him while he wasn’t aware of me, the scientist in me now firmly in control.

  Faint lines tracked the golden skin of his torso, criss-crossing his abs and then, further up, his chest. Some of them were long and twisted, others merely small hollows. They were difficult to see in the pale light of the computer, but I knew what they were. Scars. Old ones.

  I frowned. I’d felt them when I’d touched him in the darkness and in the rooftop bar that night I’d caught a glimpse of the one at his throat. He’d told me he’d got it from a mountain bike accident. But they didn’t look like the kinds of scars you got in an accident.

  Don’t forget who he is.

  A kernel of ice gathered in my gut. I had forgotten. He was the son of Augustus King, once Sydney’s biggest crime boss. And not only that. Leon had been his lieutenant. I didn’t know exactly what that meant, but he’d probably done some bad stuff and maybe those scars were evidence of that.

  I shivered as reality crept into the bubble of happy sexual pleasure I’d surrounded myself with.

  How could I have forgotten that there was always going to be more to him than the handsome, charming stranger who’d seduced me? That, although he might have made me feel good about myself, he’d done other things. Things that did not involve making people feel good about themselves.

  You can’t keep yourself in the dark. Not this time.

  No, I couldn’t. I was going to have to ask the hard questions. But at least with Leon, if I didn’t like the answers I wouldn’t lose anything.

  ‘Miss me?’ Leon said unexpectedly, not looking up from his screen.

  ‘Yes.’ Trying not to show my surprise that he’d spotted me, I pushed myself away from the doorway, forcing myself over to where he sat on the couch. Fear crept through me and I didn’t know why. Was it him I was afraid of? Or was it what I might find out about him? Or was it simply that this affair might end and I didn’t want it to? ‘I woke up and you weren’t there.’

  ‘Just keeping track of what the media are saying about us.’ His long fingers moved quickly over the touchpad, opening up the browser tab instead.

  His hands weren’t scarred, I couldn’t help noting. Just his torso.

  ‘What are they saying?’ Not that I was interested. I was more interested in the pattern of small round scars at the top of his six-pack instead. They looked like...cigarette burns.

  ‘Mostly that it’s a shocking scandal.’ The wicked smile I’d come to know so well over the past few days curled his mouth. ‘And they love it. Quite a few are on your side, believe it or not. They love the fact that the “I Love You Girl” has managed to snag Mr Tall, Blond and Dangerous. And that’s a direct quote.’

  Talk of the media momentarily distracted me from his scars. I’d had a few calls from various news outlets, wanting interviews and the inside story on how Leon and I had got together, as well as what I’d been doing for the past ten years since my video had gone viral.

  I’d ignored them. Not because I was ashamed this time, but because I simply didn’t care what the media said. I was too busy glorying in the pleasure he gave me every night to worry about it.

  ‘Tall, blond and dangerous?’ I echoed.

  �
��Hey, is it my fault they find me irresistible?’ He reached out and toyed with the hem of the shirt I wore, which ended mid-thigh. ‘But what I really like is this. You wearing anything under that? No, wait, don’t tell me. I want to find out for myself.’ His tawny brows drew together all of a sudden, his dark amber gaze zeroing in on me in a way that made me uneasy. ‘What’s wrong?’

  That stare pinned me, making my breath catch.

  Did I really want to broach this topic? Did I really want to test what was happening between us by asking him about his past?

  You know the answer to that.

  Of course. I was a scientist. And I needed answers.

  I glanced down at the pattern of scars on his stomach and the ones slashing across his chest. I brushed my fingers over the small round scars that peppered his abs. ‘You never did say where you got these.’

  Leon closed the laptop with a snap, the light from the screen cutting off and plunging the room back into darkness. Then he grabbed my hand from his skin and moved it down to where I could feel him rapidly hardening under the fabric of his trousers.

  ‘Yes, I did. But I think you should wonder about how you could fix this instead.’ He flexed his hips in blatant invitation. ‘I guarantee it’ll be a lot more interesting.’

  His face was shadowed in the dim light from the city outside the windows, his expression hidden. But I knew a distraction technique when I saw one.

  He hadn’t wanted to talk about those scars that night in the bar, and it seemed he didn’t want to talk about them now either.

  Are you sure you want to keep going?

  No, I wasn’t sure. But if we were going to continue to sleep together I needed to know just how dangerous this man truly was. Not that I was worried about my physical safety—I was sure he’d never hurt me. It was my peace of mind I was worried about.

  ‘You said a mountain bike accident.’ I shook his hand off and reached out to touch him again. ‘But these look like—’