Page 30 of King of Sinners

My eyes go to his again. He still has a glint to his I don’t understand, the predator I’ve always known lives in Mason right at the surface.

He takes the ring from my fingers and reaches for my hand, slipping the stone back on.

Only then does he look at the clerk. “We’ll take it.”

I look back down at my hand, the pink diamond sparkling back up at me. Is this part of how a predator protects or is he just garnishing his meal before he devours it?

Either way, there is no going back.

Somehow, this ring is the last step in allowing Mason to completely claim me and I am now his to do with as he wishes.

Maybe I have been for a long time. I’ve lived by Mason’s grace for the last two years. But I’m less certain than ever how this will end.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Charlotte

I slide into the limo expecting the rings to look duller in this light. They don’t.

The diamonds are now nestled on each lobe and the aquamarine solitaire necklace is on my neck. No numbers were discussed, and I have no idea how much money Mason just spent.

When he mentioned me pretending to be his live-in girlfriend to create an alibi, I had no idea I’d be racking up this much debt.

The two thousand dollars I have stuffed in my closet at his apartment seems rather paltry for repayment.

Then again, Mason has already named a price…

“I want a picture of your hand,” Mason sits next to me, his arm going around the back of the seat, his other hand wrapping about mine as he holds up our joined hands, the pink diamond catching fire in the sunlight.

We’re palm to palm, but the back of my hand is facing us. I’m nestled into his front as I pick up the camera from where I left it on the bench. Then I snap a photo of his hand holding mine, the ring on full display.

I take the shot, showing him the digital screen.

“Where do you print these?” he asks.

My brows lift as I look back over my shoulder at him. “I don’t think we’re going to CVS.”

“No.”

“I have access to a high-quality printer at school.”

“That won’t be necessary.” He picks up his phone, his arm still around me, my body still resting against his. I lean back, used to him spending his car time conducting business on his phone so I use my time to study the ring. The one I shouldn’t love…

I snap another picture as the car leaves the alley and the light changes. Mason’s eyes flash to the screen. “Better.”

I nod, noticing the way the light is now slashing across his hand holding his phone. It’s an everyday occurrence made beautiful by light, and I take the picture without thinking, and then another of his leather shoes, which somehow embody this rich, successful, dominant man.

He says nothing, surely noting the pictures as they flash on my screen. It’s not lost on me that I seem to only take pictures of Mason these days. Perhaps he’s the only subject to which I have access.

Or maybe, I’m obsessed.

He’s still working on his phone, so I switch the camera to my other hand, and place my right on his dark trousers, my skin looking even paler against the dark fabric, the sapphire ring winking up at me as I snap another.

“Let me see,” he rumbles and I show him, my fingers flexing against the muscles of his thigh.

He feels so good. Our eyes meet, my lips parting. I can’t hide that I want more of him, that I want to feel that power he so effortlessly displays.

But the limo stops.

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