Kingpin(15)

“I’m smiling because I’ve come this far already.”

I have no idea what he means. He wraps his hand around my back, removing the space I’d tried to put between us. He leans down slow enough so that I can see his intentions, and I stand still as his mouth comes down on mine.

I think it’s going to be hard and rough, but it’s not. His lips mold against mine and his eyes fall closed. I keep mine open, looking at him, not wanting to miss this. His mouth works against mine, soft and utterly sweet, like I’m delicate and he doesn’t want to spook me. Then I feel his warm tongue come out and lick the seam of my mouth.

I open a little for him as a dark part of me wants to know what he tastes like. Power flows from him in waves, and I have to know if it’s in his kiss. When his tongue touches mine, my eyes fall closed and I melt into him. My hands go to his chest and my fingers dig into his shirt. There’s not an inch of space between us, and somehow I need him closer.

He moans into my mouth, and something about it gives the power to me. I’ve made him react to me, I’m the one giving him pleasure.

My eyes fly open when I realize what I’m doing. I told him not moments ago that I wouldn’t have sex with him, and now I’m kissing him. I’m a full participant in this and giving him just as much as he’s giving me.

I push hard against his chest. It’s best to stop this now and not to go too far.

He releases my mouth and his eyes fly open. They’re filled with lust and hunger. A smirk plays on his lips, and damn it, he looks good. Too good, because all I want to do is rub myself against him. My body is screaming for me to do it, but somehow I get myself under control.

My hand comes to my lips. I can still feel his mouth there. I’ve never been kissed before. It was more than I ever thought it could be. More than I’d ever fantasized about.

“Come on, angel.” He grabs my hand again, linking our fingers.

When we get to the double doors, he slides a key into one and it unlocks. He swings them open, revealing a giant bedroom.

The first thing I notice is a bed that has to be bigger than a king-size. It’s massive. What does someone even do with a freaking bed like that? We walk inside, and I hear the doors close behind me.

“This will be our room,” he tells me.

“Ours?” I ask. “I said I wasn’t — ”

“You will sleep in the bed with me every night I’m here.”

The look he gives me says this isn’t up for debate. Then ridiculously, I wonder how many nights a week can he be home.

“There are clothes in the closet.” He points over to a door. “The bathroom is there.” He points to another set of double doors. “Freshen up. I’ll be back in a few minutes to collect you for dinner.”

He steps toward me, leaning down, and I know he’s coming for a kiss. I jump back from him, and his nostrils flare. I can tell he doesn’t like my response.

“I’ll never hurt you,” he tells me, but I don’t respond.

There isn’t anything to say. He can say that all he wants, but he’s kidnapped me. He might not physically hurt me, but only time will tell his true nature.

He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. “You’ll see in time. Now do as I say. I know you must be hungry.”

With those words, he turns and leaves. I hear a lock click into place, and I rush over, trying the knob. Nothing happens. It won’t open. I drop my head against the door.

“Crap,” I sigh in defeat.

I turn around, putting my back to the door, and look around the room. It’s really beautiful. The walls are a deep blue with thick white trim and crown molding. The carpet is pure white, but what keeps catching my eye is the bed. It looks like it’s carved out of wood, and I wonder how anyone got it up here. It’s covered in thick gold fluffy blankets that make me want to jump and land on it just to see how far I can sink down into it.

Shaking that thought away, I make my way toward the closets. When I open the door, I’m surprised to see something the size of another room. This can’t possibly be a closet. There are clothes in it, but it’s bigger than three of my apartments.

I step inside, glancing around at the shelves and racks of clothes that line the walls. Every available surface being used to hold expensive-looking clothing. One side of the room houses tailored suits and the other is full of women’s clothing.

I wonder if he keeps a bunch of different sizes for the women he entertains so he always has something ready if they need it. The thought makes me want to throw up. Being one among many is disgusting to me, and then thinking about being passed along after he gets bored is even worse. On to his next angel, as he calls me. I wonder if he calls all his women that so he doesn’t have to remember their names. I’m sure it’s easier that way.