Destructive King (Mafia Royals 3) - Page 74

She was either going to knee me in the junk or knee me in the junk.

So I taunted her more.

Because I was sick.

Because sometimes I craved her tears the way I craved her touch.

Tears meant she was still fighting.

They meant she still cared.

They meant I was something.

And I realized in that moment.

Claire had never cried over me.

Not fucking once.

She’d gotten angry.

But she’d always gone along with everything I did.

And if she was upset, she’d suggest another option.

She didn’t fight me.

She didn’t fight for me.

She didn’t fight for us.

Fuck.

“Ash…” Annie moved to cup my face. I purposely jerked away and dropped the glass to the floor.

Annie jumped back.

I slumped forward like I was already drunk and whispered gruffly, taking her face between my thumb and forefinger. “Dance with me.”

“There’s no way you’re drunk,” she hissed.

“How would you know? You’ve made it your job to ignore me all day, right? I make you com—”

She shoved at my chest then cupped a hand over my mouth; I bit each fingertip, God she tasted good.

I was drunk for sure.

On her.

I leaned into her even more, my body practically wrapping itself around hers. “What if I’ve been drinking since I drank you? What if I was pissed that your taste left my lips? Jealous of yours?”

Her cheeks burned red.

“I fucking love your taste, Annie. Tell you what. Let’s do a little test; you only eat and drink what I fucking tell you—and then, I feast.” I let go of her chin. “On you. It can be a… guessing game?”

Annie looked from left to right. “What are you doing?”

“You.” I shrugged. “If you don’t run away, then again, I did like watching you try last night…”

“Start counting, and I swear on all that’s holy—”

“One.” I winked. “Two.” I jerked her against my chest and then pulled her roughly toward the dance floor, moving my body against hers, flipping her back, so her ass was pressed against every hard inch of me.

She let out a gasp.

I felt that gasp in my fingertips as they held firm beneath her breasts, keeping her steady, and I felt it in my soul as the rush of air left her mouth.

We were gaining more and more attention.

Good.

I flipped her around, dipped her, and then slid my hand up her thigh until I gripped bare ass cheek. I kept my face impassive, but I was dying inside. “No underwear?”

“I forgot?”

“Sure, you did.” I chuckled against her neck, then pulled her to her feet and twirled her again. “Just like I forgot mine.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Huh?”

“Too many clothes between us.” I gripped her body tight against mine as we moved in sync. “Always too many.” At her light sigh of exasperation, I looked over her head and saw several faces that were familiar and two that were not.

Security?

We hadn’t hired outside security.

Annie shoved hard at my chest when I wasn’t paying attention; her clutch went flying across the dance floor. Her phone tumbled out.

I reached down to grab the phone before someone stepped on it while she grabbed her purse.

And I saw a text from my dad.

Chase: I can move you into Phoenix’s house tonight. Is that good for you?

“Fuck. No.” I typed back before I could think otherwise, and then I completely broke character or maybe just lost my mind as I reached for Annie and tossed her over my shoulder, phone still in hand.

We moved through a crowd of people.

I was losing my shit.

She couldn’t go.

She couldn’t.

Music flooded the bathroom hall as I kicked the door open. “OUT!”

The few men that were in there washing their hands ran.

I set her down and very slowly turned the lock in place on the door. “Explain this.”

I waved the phone between us.

“Give that back.” She glared.

“No,” I barked. “Not until you tell me why!”

“You don’t deserve to know!” she screamed. “You’re a horrible human being who plays with people’s emotions, their hearts, you get them to trust you, to love you, and then you just, you just—” Her chest heaved.

And I completely fucking lost it.

I charged, picking her up over my shoulder again and slamming our bodies against the brick wall next to the sinks. Her legs wrapped around me to hold on.

“How?”

“How what?” A tear slid down her cheek.

“How did I get a perfect creature like you—to possibly love me?”

She shook her head and then turned it to the side so I couldn’t see her eyes, pissing me the hell off, and just when I didn’t think she was going to answer, she spoke in a clear, soft voice. “Lonely recognizes lonely, sad recognizes sad, desolate recognizes desolate… Lost.” Her eyes met mine then. “Recognizes lost.”

My mouth collided with hers in an angry force of teeth and pain as I stole kiss after kiss from her.

From this perfect girl.

With hair she probably cut just to piss me off.

Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Mafia Royals Crime
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