The Skull King (Skull 1)

He lingered on the phone even though there was clearly nothing to say. Sometimes I wondered if suicide was preferable to being his wife, but when I remembered how much my brothers loved me, I knew that wasn’t an option. My death would haunt them for the rest of their lives, and they would blame themselves for not saving me.

I kept going in these circles, trying to find a solution when there didn’t seem to be one.

Balto had made a surprising offer, but since I really didn’t know him, I couldn’t agree to something like that.

Sometimes I wondered if I should kill Lucian in his sleep. But if I made a run for it, his men would just follow me. They would execute my brothers and then me. That was a dead end.

So I was stuck in this hopeless situation…forever. “The game is still on, so I should go.”

Lucian didn’t express his frustration. “Maria picked up something for you. I want you to wear it when I get home—and be on my bed waiting for me.”

No doubt it was lingerie.

I kept the vomit in the back of my throat.

Did that mean he wasn’t screwing whores like usual?

If he was directing all of his attention on me, that only made my situation worse.

I’d have to force myself to stop thinking about Balto when we were together. It was the best way to make sex bearable, but if it made Lucian more obsessed with me, I would just have more problems. He would become more attentive, more obsessive. And then he might want to spend more time with me, which meant less time with Balto. “Alright.”

“Yes.”

“Sorry?” I asked, not following his response.

“Don’t say alright. Say yes.”

The number one thing I hated was being told what to do. I never responded well to being bossed around. When my brothers tried to make me do what they wanted, I slapped them until their cheeks turned bright red. But I forced out the statement so the conversation would end. “Yes.”

“Yes, Husband.”

My tongue suddenly felt large in my mouth, like it was so big it stopped me from talking. My blood pumped with ferocity, and I wanted to throw the phone out the window. Submitting to a man I hated was torture. Submitting to a man I adored was a turn-on. Lucian was the first of the two. “Yes…Husband.”

20

Cassini

I told my brothers everything because they were family, but I didn’t mention Balto. If I told them I was having an affair, they probably would disapprove. It was a bad idea and getting caught could have dire consequences for me.

I knew I should stop seeing Balto right away, especially when Lucian asked what I was doing that afternoon.

But now I was too addicted.

Every time I finished a hit, I needed another.

Balto showed me how good sex could be, and I wasn’t ready to give that up.

I would never be able to give it up.

So I ended up in his compound, my panties soaked before I even made it inside the building.

We went straight to bed, and as if he’d been plotting exactly how he would fuck me when I walked in the door, he pushed me onto my hands and knees and peeled my clothes away. He didn’t even kiss me like he usually did.

He pulled my panties over my ass and to my knees.

I was facing the headboard, so I could only hear the deep intake of breath through his nostrils. He was probably staring at the inside of my panties, spotting the arousal that had started since he’d popped into my mind. I kept oozing all afternoon, picturing that thick cock inside me. I closed my eyes as I listened to the foil packet rip between his fingers.

Then he got behind me and shoved himself deep inside.

I arched my back and gripped the sheets underneath me, forgetting about Lucian and all the reasons why this needed to end. Secrets never stayed secrets, especially when it came to men like Lucian. He would figure out my dirty secret eventually, and I would be punished ruthlessly.

But for now, I was too full of Balto’s cock to care.

He stood at the edge of the bed and gripped both of my shoulders so he could slam his fat cock inside me. My panties moved around my ankles just above my heels so he could continue to stare at my arousal all he wanted. “I love fucking this pussy.” One hand wrapped around my hair and tugged it back so my chin faced the ceiling.

I closed my eyes as I listened to his deep voice, listened to the baritone that made me even wetter. His dick slid in and out of me without friction, my slickness smooth enough to keep the condom lubricated. His massive size stretched me so wide apart. My nails kept clawing the bed because it felt so good. I felt like a bitch in heat, needing that dick to fulfill my life’s purpose. I couldn’t see him, but I could picture him so clearly in my mind. Six foot three of muscle, masculinity, and power.