Page 20 of King of the Cage

Was I going to let this woman walk away, leaving me high and dry and desperate for her? Fuck, no.

She stared me down and then turned on her heel and stalked away down the dark hallway, deeper into the apartment.

“Well?” she called from an open doorway.

Adjusting my raging hard-on so my suit pants didn’t snap it right off, I followed her. The bathroom was marble and gold and lit with low spotlights.

Giada stood at the sink, her dark eyes watching me in the mirror.

“What was it again? ‘Take your panties off, wait in the bathroom, and bend over the sink for me.’ Right?”

She reached up under her dress and tugged. A black snatch of lace fell to the floor, and she kicked it away.

“Well? Let’s see what you’ve got, Irish.” She tilted her head back, all confident arrogance. As regal as a queen, and wicked as the Morrigan herself.

Anticipation roared through me as I stripped off my shirt and kicked off my suffocating dress pants. In my haste, the buttons of the shirt ripped free, pinging madly about the tiled room. In the mirror, we looked like a couple escaped from the underworld. Her eyebrow rose at the sight of my blood-spattered chest.

“It’s not mine, in case you were worried,” I growled and knelt behind her, sliding the skirt of her long, crimson gown up her legs until her bare arse was presented before me.

I spread her cheeks, and she flinched.

“I wasn’t. What are you doing?” she hissed over her shoulder.

“Just checking how much your pussy’s desperate for this bossy, domineering man.” I traced a finger down her cleft, dipping inside her.

“You’re insufferably arrogant,” she tossed at me.

“And you seem to really like that, don’t you, wee one?” I stuck my face between her cheeks and inhaled the scent of her pussy. “Fucking hell, that’s the good stuff.”

“Don’t do that!” She turned around, her hands tugging at my hair, tilting my face up.

And I let her. Her cheeks were as red as her dress.

“Don’t tell me the man-eater of the De Sanctis family is shy about her body?” The very idea didn’t compute.

She rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you save the psychoanalysis and get up here and fuck me on the counter?”

I slid my hands up her thighs. Her glistening pussy was right before my face now, my mouth watering. “Why don’t you understand that you’re not in charge tonight and pipe down… before I gag you with your own panties. The more you resist, the more I’ll have to teach you who’s the boss.”

5

GIADA

He was absolutely insufferable. As annoying as my brother had always complained. I could see why they were enemies. Bran’s easygoing, cocky confidence would rile Elio’s carefully disciplined, stoic approach to life.

I couldn’t stand him either, but I might have died if he’d stopped touching me. His thick finger eased down my slit. It was blunt and calloused, dragging in all the right places. My head fell back involuntarily, and a moan left me.

A deep chuckle washed over my skin.

“Now, that is a fucking sight to see.” Bran’s accented voice floated to me.

I stared down at him. His shoulders were flexed, huge and hulking, and other men’s blood dotted his neck, coloring his ink. His knuckles were all torn and messed up, and he looked like he couldn’t have cared less. His deep, green-eyed gaze fastened on me like I was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.

He didn’t just look like a Celtic warrior at that moment, hewasone.

Elio was going to lock me up in the dungeon at Casa Nera if he heard about this… and throw away the key.

Then he won’t find out.

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