The Skull King (Skull 1)

She tossed them onto the rumpled sheets. “Have fun.” She pulled on her heels next before she was ready to go.

Even when I fucked a hooker, she didn’t leave this quickly. She usually stuck around to make sure there were no other services she could provide, and sometimes we talked for thirty minutes or so before she went on her way.

But this woman was breaking records.

I walked her to the elevator.

“Goodnight.” She pivoted her body into me as she prepared to kiss me goodbye.

I accepted her embrace but not her departure. “I’ll walk you.”

“I can manage—”

“I said I’ll walk you.” I placed my hand on her lower back and guided her inside. It didn’t matter what part of Florence you lived in, walking around alone at night in a backless dress was a bad idea. The safest place in the world was at my side, so I would make sure she got to her vehicle in one piece.

We left the compound and my men who guarded it and walked down the sidewalk together. It was just four blocks away, and we spent that time in silence. After all the rough fucking we’d just done, a conversation seemed anticlimactic.

We arrived at her car—a black Bugatti.

Her husband really was wealthy.

“This is me,” she announced, not that there was much point because it was the only car on the street. She glanced at the car then turned back to me, exhaustion and satisfaction plainly visible on her face. She looked like a woman who had been properly fucked by a man. Good thing her husband was out of town. He would probably figure it out the second he looked at her.

“What’s your last name?” This gorgeous woman was trapped in a marriage she couldn’t run away from, and I wanted to know who this powerful man was. Fucking her had only sparked my interest further, and now I wanted to know everything about her. Once I’d been with a woman, my interest was usually depleted. I moved on to someone else days later, and the cycle continued endlessly. But this woman fucked so enthusiastically, it was like she’d been trapped on an island for the last three years. She treated me like a hooker she’d paid a million dollars for. She fucked me like I was the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on. Sex was always good with my partners, but she was so transparent, it was refreshing. She didn’t keep her cool or try to play games. She wanted me—and she was vocal about it.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, and the ends of her strands were slightly pointed because they’d soaked in her perspiration for the last few hours. Her makeup was a little smeared from the sweat that had poured down her forehead. Hopefully, she would clean up a bit before she walked into the house. “I know what you’re doing.” Even with messy hair and smeared makeup, she had a special quality that could set the world on fire. She was confident, sassy, and smooth all at the same time.

“I’m making conversation.”

“No. You’re prying.”

If I really wanted to pry, I would run her license plate. But if her husband was as smart as I thought he was, he would have registered the cars under an alias so no one could trace the vehicles back to his name or address. “Why did you marry him in the first place?” Why did a gorgeous woman like her feel pressured to settle with a man she cared so little about? A man who couldn’t make her come?

She stepped closer to me and ran her hand up my hard chest. She watched her fingers inch slowly upward until they came into contact with the edge of my jaw. Her fingers felt the smooth skin of my recently shaved face and the rugged bones that made up my profile. Her eyes followed her movements, her lips slightly parted like she wanted me all over again. “I don’t want to talk about my husband. I want to enjoy these last seconds thinking only about you.” Her fingers trailed down my jaw, my neck, and then to my chest once more. “I had a great time tonight. I’ll be thinking about this evening a lot when I’m alone…” She spoke the truth without shame, invigorated by the fact she would never see me again. She didn’t censor the words coming out of her mouth because they didn’t matter.

“This doesn’t have to be the last time.” My hands circled her waist, and I pulled her close to me, feeling her tits against my chest. My face hovered above hers, my lips anxious for another kiss.

“Yes, it does.” Her arms rested on mine, and she felt the strength of my biceps with her fingertips. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.”