Page 9 of A King So Savage

“Stop struggling before you hurt yourself,” he muttered, but Ava only fought harder with a desperate frenzy. She jerked and twisted her body, trying to yank her hands from Kingston’s grip until suddenly there was a loud pop.

The scream filling the room was heart-wrenching. It wobbled, high and clear before fading away into hysterical sobs.

“Damnit, King.” Oliver grinned. He still held one of Ava’s ankles, and now he yanked it toward the far edge of the desk. Exposed in such an obscene manner, her lightly tanned legs shook violently. “If we’re starting the torture, sign me up for that shit.” Oliver’s free hand ran up the inside of Ava’s bare leg until he reached the juncture of her thighs. “I wish Malcolm was here to see this. The things we could do to her. She wouldn’t be so sassy then, I can tell you that.”

Cupping Ava through the material of her shorts, Oliver grinned while rotating a palm against her sex. “King can have your pussy while I fuck your mouth. Would you like that?”

Ava stared back at Oliver with blank, pain-filled eyes. Kingston doubted she even comprehended Oliver’s words, but he did not contradict his brother’s assertion. Hell, at this moment, in his own fury at the damage she’d inflicted, he wasn’t positive he’d stop Oliver from following through on his threats. How sick was it that the imagery his brother’s words conjured was making his dick hard?

Perhaps Ava required punishment as a way of enforcing good behavior. Well, maybe not an actual fucking, but a spanking at the very least. And he should let Oliver administer it. Let Ava see what she truly should be afraid of. And of whom.

Kingston was almost relieved that Malcom, who usually served as Oliver’s preferred righthand man, was out of the country on a job. It was always a volatile situation when those two worked in tandem. Their cruelty complimented each other, but Malcolm had the edge for sheer brutality. He was the man Kingston sent on those jobs when someone required a bit of torture before death.

“What do you say, King?” Oliver flicked the button of her shorts with a forefinger. Then he inched her tank top up with that same finger until her bellybutton was exposed. His hand splayed across her bare abdomen, holding her in place. “Should we get our dicks wet? Or save her for a disgustingly rich buyer?”

Kingston frowned, that annoying twinge of disturbing possessiveness returning full force. The unwelcome sight of his brother’s hands touching Ava was unnerving. And it was turning his vision hazy red with rage.

She’s mine. No one else should be touching her. Not like that. Not if they want to live.

His eyes tracked from the top of her head to the other side of the desk where Oliver still gripped her ankle. Jack held her other foot captive, his oversized fingers gingerly wrapped about the slender bones. His face was a study of indecisiveness, but like a good soldier, he waited for Kingston’s instruction.

“Let her go,” Kingston said, his voice murderously quiet. His reaction was irrational, especially since he commanded that she be restrained in the first place. “Both of you, let her go before I start chopping off goddamn hands.”

Jack released his grip immediately, but Oliver’s face revealed his surprise. He hesitated before shoving Ava away in disgust.

The girl’s legs immediately pressed tight together. Bending her knees, she half-rolled onto her side, curling up into a fetal position. Her arms were still stretched above her head, her wrists manacled in Kingston’s hands.

“Maybe you won’t get the full amount if she’s broken, King, but it sure will be damn fun getting her to that point,” Oliver said. “You know we can do whatever we want with her and still make money.”

“Of course, I fucking know.” Kingston’s hands slid under Ava’s shoulders and her knees. Tugging her across the desk, he scooped her up into his arms. It was the second time he’d held her in such a manner and he liked it. He liked it too much.

Even while crying and holding her hand tight against her chest, Ava still resisted him. Coming alive, she struggled against his grip, arms flailing wildly while she sobbed incoherently.

Kingston swore beneath his breath, even as her stubbornness thrilled him.

“Would you rather I allow my brother to have his fun, after all? No? Then best stop your squirming, Miss Blue. Although I’m enjoying it more than you can possibly imagine.” His whispered confession sent a tremor through her slender body. “In fact, I find your attempts to free yourself as pleasurable as the sight of those pretty tears running down your cheeks. Now, be a good girl and let me tend to your injury.”

Ava turned her face into his chest. A whimper of pure terror escaped her throat, but she ceased all movement. She cradled her wrist, pinning it between his chest and hers.

Kingston spared a glance for his men. Jack and Paulie were back in their positions along the paneled wall while Oliver flopped once again into a leather club chair. Glaring at Kingston, his mouth pulled into a snarling pout but he said nothing else.

“Paulie? Have Doctor Abbot meet me in the north cell.”

“The cell?” Paulie frowned in disapproval.

Kingston’s arms tightened around Ava, realizing just how fragile she truly was. He could snap her bones like twigs. “Yes, the cell. Until I have an answer from her brother, it’s where I will keep her.”

ChapterThree

These worlds collide

in a heartbeat.

And little earthquakes find names.

Lust. Madness. Want.

Kingston’spersonal physician tended to his new prisoner while he blotted his cheek with an expensive handkerchief.

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