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Kings of Blood and Money (Underworld Kings)

Page 15

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Edging up to the door, I peer in and almost lose my breath. Remi…at least I think it’s Remi, has his head buried between a girl’s legs. She’s laid out on the table I eat my breakfast. Her soft moans change pitch, growing louder, higher. Her hands dig into his hair as she grinds herself on his beautiful face. He’s shirtless, his jeans hanging loose down his ass. His muscles flex and ripple beneath his smooth, tanned skin.

My nipples peak. A warm ache pools in my lower stomach. Without thought, my hand strokes over my abdomen, lowering to my panties and slipping in, touching heated flesh. Her back arches off the table. Her legs clamp around his head as she screams, “Fuck, fuck…”

I don’t hear the footsteps behind me until it’s too late. Noah’s dominating form peers over my shoulder, his body almost flat against mine.

“Peeping tom. What would the nuns say?” His mocking tone holds a hint of amusement and a huge dose of disgust.

My cheeks flame. I quickly snatch my hand from my panties, and his eyes drop there as I turn around to face him. He closes in, too close, too big, too much.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” I say lamely, shame saturating me. His eyes flick to the show inside. I follow his gaze, now looking over my shoulder. The girl is on her stomach, her feet on the floor, legs parted, skirt pushed over her hips. Before I can watch Remi push inside her, Noah snatches my hand up.

Fear and dread turn my legs to rubber as he pulls my fingers to his nose and inhales. “Smells like you’re getting off watching my brother fuck. Such a shame they started without me. I thought we were meeting in the pool house.”

Oh my god. She’s going to get them both.

My lips part on a wheeze of shock, lust, shame.

Blue, smoldering eyes drop to my gray wet bra, the flimsy fabric doing nothing to cover what’s beneath. “She likes to be double stuffed,” he torments.

Swiping his tongue over his bottom lip, my gaze lingers on those thick lips of his, wondering what it would be like to have them where my fingers just were.

Lame, virgin Freya. He hates you—that includes your vagina.

Being this close to him is like staring into the sun. It hurts, burns, damages. He’s excruciatingly beautiful and terrifying cruel. His eyes form into slits as he waits for me to defend myself so he can destroy me with it. He’s filled out so much in the last year and gotten even taller than before. He has to be six-foot. I have to strain my neck to hold his gaze, and even with my eyes beginning to water, I hold that stare. His chiseled jaw becomes rigid as he holds me captive under his scrutiny.

“I wanted to swim.” I jerk a shoulder.

Dropping his gaze down my body once more, his face pinches. “In your…” he furrows his brow, “is that even underwear?”

“I don’t have a swimsuit.” Realizing he’s still clutching my wrist in his firm hold, I snatch my hand back and wrap my arms around my body to cover myself as best I can. I dip my face, attempting to hide the humiliation that’s making sickness stir my insides.

“Remi,” he suddenly calls out. My jaw drops, eyes wide with horror.

“Don’t.” I swallow. The plea is a pathetic squeak that goes unanswered.

He doesn’t take his eyes off me when he shouts, “Best take that to your room. You have an audience out here. A little catholic girl discovering new places, new sensations.”

Bastard.

I can’t turn around. Can’t see Remi’s face when he realizes I intruded on his private moment. Can’t let him see the jealousy eating away at my insides. I want to die.

“Who is that?” the girl inside asks.

Taking a bullet would be better than this. Pain isn’t always physical. You can break a person without violence. Noah was a master at it. Adding salt to the gaping wound that was my utter mortification, he looks me over one more time. It’s with such distain, it makes me flinch, feeling like a hideous beast that crawled from the gutter, infecting the pretty people. “That, lovely Maria,” Noah sneers, leaning into me, brushing his lips against my ear, “is no one.” The killing blow hits its target, the smirk that kicks up his lips the salt as he moves past me to go inside.

My eyes close and legs stumble, turning to rubber, threatening to send me hurtling toward the concrete. I catch myself, doing my best to hold back the tears screaming to be let free as Remi appears at the door. “Are you ready for that kiss now?” His words swirl in my mind. I can’t look at him. “Freya? I’m just joking. Don’t worry about Noah,” he says, reaching out for my arm. I lurch back and take off running for my towel. Going through a different entrance into the house, launching myself up the stairs, willing my legs to stay strong and carry me.


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