The Skull King (Skull 1)

I stood there naked, somehow more vulnerable than I’d ever been.

His hand undid his jeans, and he pushed them down his narrow hips, his boxers sliding down too. His hard cock pressed right between my cheeks, long, hard, and searing hot. “You never loved Evan. You think you did, but you never did.” He grabbed my hips and turned me around so we were face-to-face.

I expected to see judgment or disgust, but I saw the same expression he always gave me.

“And no, he didn’t love you either. Because a man who loves a woman is selfless, devoted, and murderous. He would rather die a million times than let the woman he loves open her legs to some asshole—until death do you part. That was lust mixed with immaturity. That was hope mixed with confusion. When you really love a man, you’ll know. And you’ll know because he’ll love you more fiercely than you ever could love him in return. That’s love. Real fucking love. And you’ve never experienced it.”

He spoke like a man who understood it all too well. “Have you?”

His hand moved into the back of my hair, where he got his usual grip. “No.” His thumb softly brushed across my cheek as he held me naked in front of him. “But I know exactly how I would be if I loved a woman. I would be loyal, devoted, and honest. And I would never, ever, allow her to put herself in harm’s way to save me. Because she’d be the queen—and a king will always die to protect his queen.”

9

Balto

Her eyes were closed as she lay next to me, a beautiful woman with beautiful curves. She had the sexiest hips, the kind that gave birth to gladiators. She had a lone freckle on her right hip, and I found my tongue migrating there whenever I kissed her. She had the smoothest skin, like olive oil had been drizzled all over her.

I noted her light breaths and the gentle way her chest expanded in her sleep. She was out cold, and I wasn’t going to wake her up. If her husband discovered she was missing because she was out all night, I didn’t give a damn.

I hoped he found out.

My eyes moved down to the enormous rock on her left hand. The diamond was so large, it was obnoxious. It didn’t represent love or commitment. He just wanted to be vain, to show off his beautiful wife and the things he could afford to buy her. A truly wealthy man didn’t care about flashing his wealth. If he were actually rich, he didn’t need to prove it.

When she explained her marriage, it only infuriated me. She sacrificed herself for some punk-ass little bitch. I couldn’t even call him a man because there was nothing manly about him. He was just a boy who liked to play with his dick too much. Nothing irritated me more than seeing a stunning woman with some loser guy. They needed to open their eyes and search a little harder before falling for the first loser who gave them some attention. When I first met Cassini, I thought she’d be different. She was so confident and suave that she seemed in control of her own destiny. But she was a slave—a willing slave.

The asshole inside me wanted to give her shit for her stupidity. I wanted to tell her she was an idiot and it was ridiculous to honor the promise when there was no point anymore. But when she turned her back to me and shut me out, I knew I was standing on the threshold of loss. If I said the wrong thing, she would walk out and never call me again.

I wanted her to call me again.

It was wrong for me to judge her when I didn’t know all the facts, and it wasn’t like I hadn’t made mistakes either. I’d never let someone play me for a fool quite like that, but I hadn’t lived the most honorable life.

It would be hypocritical to insult her.

But I was still pissed because she deserved better.

But I also admired her for keeping her word—even under the terrible circumstances. Perhaps she came from a good family that prided their reputation. She did seem to carry herself with confidence, like she had a reason to stand so tall and so straight.

I continued to watch her sleep, enjoying the way her hair fell perfectly on the pillow. This woman looked naturally beautiful in every pose she made. Even when she rolled over and closed her eyes to sleep, she looked ready for a picture. With those full lips, that sexy freckle in the corner of her mouth, and that olive skin, she was the most desirable woman on the planet.

Bedding a married woman was always nice because she didn’t get attached. She wanted the affair to be a secret so her husband would never find out. Sometimes they had families, and the last thing they wanted was for them to fall apart. But it annoyed me that someone else owned her, that she never took off that ridiculous wedding ring.