Destructive King (Mafia Royals 3) - Page 77

We made it to the penthouse suite, or I assumed so since it said PH, and as we walked down the hall, several associates were stationed at each exit like Ash had been planning this all along.

“I may be the devil,” he muttered. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to give you heaven after your descent into hell.”

I frowned as he tossed his card to a cousin standing by our door. “Hey Dom, can you let us in and then just guard…”

Dom grinned. “That why you gave us all earplugs?”

“It’s because I care,” Ash teased.

“Asshole,” Dom groaned. “You know we’re not allowed to silence anything that happens in that room, but…” He smiled at me. “…I swear we’ll conveniently forget anything ever happened.”

“Excellent.” Ash moved into the suite, the door clicked behind us.

The room was ginormous.

With a panoramic view of the city and Lake Michigan.

“You like it?” Ash whispered, setting me on my feet.

I nodded. “Did they have this available last minute or—”

Ash scoffed. “I’m not an amateur; I booked this yesterday.” My eyebrows shot up. “And paid off the rich dude who was supposed to stay overnight.”

A bucket of champagne was waiting next to two flutes on the main living room table.

It made a popping sound when he opened it.

“We can talk about my job—what I do for the Family other than kill, or we can wash off the night, order room service, and put on something that makes girls feel better… Hallmark? That Netflix princess one?”

My jaw dropped as I stared at him. “You weren’t drunk. You were… pretending…” Heat swamped my face. “In the bathroom were you pretending too—”

“Wow, my dick thanks you for the compliment, but you can’t pretend something that big, hard…” he winked. “Pulsating.”

I groaned.

“What? Too far?”

“You always go too far,” I pointed out.

“I thought that was part of my charm?”

I shrugged, lifting a hand to tuck my hair only to realize it was trembling. Ash was at my side in an instant. Taking my hand, pressing it against his cheek. “It’s over.”

“He sold me.”

“He’ll burn in Hell,” Ash said softly. “Devil.” He patted his chest proudly. “I know things.”

I laughed and then rested my cheek over his heart, absorbed its steady beat. “So, you really are the protector of the family, drawing everyone out with your asshole ways.”

“Of course, you’d figured it out.” He rested his chin on my head. “Most people just think I’m mean, family included”

“You are mean,” I pointed out. “But it’s a necessary cruelty.”

“Mmm…” His arms held me tight. Protecting me. Holding me close. “Annie?”

“Yeah?”

“Since your dad’s the asshole who threw you away—does that really mean I get to keep you?”

I froze, a smile forming on my face as I pulled back and looked up into his eyes and whispered, “I’d start counting—you have to catch me first.”

“Ten.” His eyes flashed. “Nine.”

I had no idea where I was running.

Only that no matter what direction I went in.

It would end up in his arms.

Always.

The gleam in his eyes was my undoing.

“Catch me,” I taunted.

And then I ran.

I ran down the hall took, a left, and ended up in a gorgeous bathroom.

Trapped.

It was modern.

A huge tub was in front of me.

Normally I’d give in.

Tell him he won.

Instead, I decided to crawl in and hide.

I leaned my head back, my legs slightly spread since I couldn’t straighten them.

“Hmmmmm…” Ash’s deep voice sent chills down my spine. “Where could my little Annie have gone?”

I bit down on my bottom lip to keep the joy inside—which was nearly impossible.

Because Ash.

My Ash.

My tormentor.

Mine.

Was chasing me.

His gorgeous head of whiskey-colored hair fell over his forehead as he leaned over the tub and then lowered himself in, over my body. Wordlessly, he nudged my head aside as he started filling the tub with cold water, then hot.

I waited, teeth chattering as water swirled around us, as the warmth of his body kept me secure, safe.

And when it turned hot, when he turned those icy blue eyes back on me, he pressed a kiss to my forehead and then lowered my hair back into the tub.

“You were baptized in fire… in rejection. In horror.” He lifted my head, heavy with water, cradling my neck as he whispered. “And now, bathed, baptized—pure.”

I reached for him.

He grabbed my body, our mouths slammed together as water sloshed around the bath.

I moved onto him, straddling his body as we tried to tug our wet clothes away. They were suddenly offensive, separating us.

He gritted his teeth as he kicked his wet pants down.

The sound of the tub filling was like a white noise of passion as I lifted my dress over my head and tossed it to the wet white marble ground.

Our clothes joined.

And then so did we.

In that tub.

Mouths fused.

Bodies flushed.

Hot.

One.

“Finders…” He thrust into me. “Keepers.”

“Good.” I forgot my own name, only able to say his, over and over again. “I’m yours.”

Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Mafia Royals Crime
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