Titan (Dark Kings 1)

I enter my room, and my eyes go straight to my bed. She’s not there like I had hoped. I know she’s up here. Nigel had informed me he escorted her up here hours ago. Spinning around, I see the bathroom door is cracked, and I hear the shower running.

Even better.

I open my nightstand drawer and then enter the bathroom. Steam fills the large room, and I look over at the glass shower. She stands under the sprayer, her hands running over her hair to get the suds out.

I remove my shirt, jeans, and kick off my shoes. Entering the shower, I come up behind her. “Fuck, you’re sexy.”

She shrieks in surprise, and I chuckle. “Titan … You scared me.”

I stand before her naked and hard. Her perfect tits rise and fall quickly with her heavy breathing. Her wet hair sticks to her cheeks, neck, and chest. I reach out and push it back, seeing the bruises I left on her last night. They’re not terribly bad. Just a light shade of purple from my aggressiveness. They’re mainly on her hips and a couple on her chest. A few dot her thighs.

“How long have you been here?” I ask.

Her face falls, and she bites her bottom lip. “About three hours. I took a nap.” Her eyes go wide, and she looks nervous all of a sudden. “Should I not have come—”

“No,” I interrupt her. “I wanted you here.” I had messaged her this morning to meet me in my room, but the guys kept me longer at our fucking meeting than I had intended.

She turns to face the showerhead, and I step up behind her again. Not allowing her any time. “Bend over and place your hands flat on the wall. And spread your legs for me,” I order in her ear.

Her breathing picks up, and she does as she’s told.

I grab what I brought in here with me, knowing what I was going to do and smear the silicone lube over my cock.

My feet hold hers apart. Her back flat. I run my hand down her spine, feeling every vertebra. She shudders. Gripping my hard cock in my hand, I put it against her ass, and she tenses. “How long has it been?” I ask.

“A while.” She pants.

I smile. Good. Showing more restraint than I’d like, I push into her, stretching that tight ass. She cries out and goes to move, but I hold her down with my hand on her back. “Let me in, Em. Relax.”

I fill her just a little, then I push in farther. “That’s it, baby. That’s it.” I close my eyes as I push all the way into her tight ass.

She whimpers, and I’m panting. I grip her hips.

“Take your right hand and fuck that pussy, Em.”

She lets go of the wall and begins to play with herself.

“Fuck your pussy, baby. I want three fingers fucking yourself. I want you coming all over those fingers. Then I’m gonna lick them clean.”

“God …”

“That’s right, baby.” I’m going to own her. Just like Bones used to but only I’m not going to stop where he did. I’m going to demand more because I’m nowhere near done with her.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

EMILEE

FOR THE SECOND morning in a row, I wake up in Titan’s bed. My body is just as sore as the day before. Getting out of the bed, I make it to the bathroom to brush my teeth and use the restroom. I see a T-shirt of his lying on the end of the bed, and I place it over my head, pulling my very tangled hair from the collar. I open the French doors, not thinking anything about it but come to a quick stop when I see three sets of eyes on me.

Grave sits at the kitchen table with a fork paused halfway to his mouth, which is wide open as he spots me. His eyes drop to my bare legs, and I tug at the already long T-shirt. This is payback for catching him in the act yesterday.

Titan stands in the open kitchen flipping pancakes. He looks me over once, and my body heats from the intensity of his gaze. I clear my throat and rub my neck awkwardly.

My eyes go to Cross. He looks less surprised than Grave did to see me here. He’s leaned back in his chair relaxing with his legs open and his left hand flipping his Zippo open and close. Cross always had a mysterious vibe about him. I was the least close to him because he kept to himself. Even between the Kings. Or maybe I was just never close enough to pay attention. All I know about him is that he has secrets. Murderous secrets.

Nineteen years old

I’m digging around in my trunk, trying to find my bag through all of my shit when I’m slapped on the ass. I whip around about to give whoever did it a piece of my mind but laugh when I see Jasmine. “What was that for?”