Page 47 of A Heart So Savage

Around my neck.

Around my heart.

Hold me tighter.

Hold me closer.

Stop me from flying away.

“I’ve already hadyou in my lap,” Kingston reminded her. “And across it.”

“That’s not an answer,” Ava bit out. The man was deliberately provoking her.

“All right. First, we would visit the museum of your choosing because I know you love them. I’d give you a kiss every time you stopped to read the information plaques for each piece of artwork. Afterward, I would buy your favorite butter pecan gelato at that Italian café near the Met. I’d feed it to you, Ava. Watch you lick the spoon and imagine it was my cock sliding over the coolness of your tongue and deeper into your warm mouth until I hit the back of your throat. I’d hold it there. Waiting until you swallowed what I gave you.” Kingston’s head tilted as he raked her face and body with his blue-black eyes. “Then I’d take you to a quaint little bookstore that’s nearby this building. Give you all the money you need to buy as many first-edition books as you could possibly want and build you a library to keep them. And on the first rainy day, I’d read your favorites aloud to you and serve your hot tea in antique China cups.”

Ava’s heartbeat slowed as his words sunk in. Like a rollercoaster speeding downhill, it began beating faster and faster until she feared she might hyperventilate. She’d asked Kingston this question for the sake of proving that he really didn’t know her at all. But it was glaringly apparent that this man, this monster, knew her better than anyone else in the world.

That someone so perfect and beautiful could also be so terrifyingly dangerous was a true tragedy.

“Is that all?” Ava’s mouth was tight with the desperate need to press against his lush mouth. Abruptly conscious of her nudity beneath her dress, her thighs helplessly clenched. She was throbbing with lust. Her body did not care how much she hated him.

Kingston gave her a sinfully slow smile, rubbing a thumb over his bottom lip. “No. That’s not all, little monster. I’d make sure it was impossible for you to walk away from me when this is all over. You would never forget how I made you come over and over on my cock. On my fingers. On my tongue.”

Ava fingered the salad fork beneath the napkin laying across her lap. Arousal and fear smeared the inside of her thighs. Her pussy throbbed around the motionless vibrator inside her, and with irrational anger, she wished he would turn it on. The booth’s black leather seats and the dim lighting from the numerous crystal chandeliers probably hid the evidence of her condition, but still, she squirmed in a heady cocktail of resentful lust.

Kingston had not yet noticed the elegant place setting laid out before her was short an item. The brilliant white tablecloth was useful in concealing her actions. No one knew she’d swiped a salad fork when she dabbed her lips with the napkin. How often did one check for a missing utensil? A salad fork wouldn’t be missed. If it was, a natural assumption would be its absence was simply an oversight by the waitstaff. It was why she’d not taken the butterknife. It was the obvious choice but more quickly missed.

What she intended on doing with the fork remained to be seen. She filched it on pure instinct and now, pricking her finger with the sharp tines, she wondered if she had the guts to use it on someone.

Would she use it against Kingston? Did she even dare?

Punishment would be swift, that much was certain. There was no telling what he might do if she injured him with such an insignificant weapon. But remembering Detective Redding’s visit to The Den and his thwarted plans to snatch her away was incentive enough to arm herself.

So, maybe she wouldn’t threaten Kingston, but it could be useful in other situations. Or maybe it was crazy to think a tiny salad fork would be of any help if she was caught in a desperate situation.

Pulling lipstick and a small compact from her purse, Ava shakily repaired the damage done from biting her own lips while Kingston’s possessive gaze remained locked on her. She surreptitiously stashed the fork inside the handbag along with the makeup.

With a deep breath, she calmly regarded Kingston, her heart pounding so hard it boomed like a drum in her ears. “I need to use the ladies’ room.”

Kingston’s attention was caught by the sight of Jack entering the restaurant. The two men nodded at one another, and Ava wondered what silent message passed between them. Once Jack slid into the shadows, Kingston noticeably relaxed, his fingers unclenching from around the flute’s stem. His gaze slid back to Ava. “On two conditions, lamb.”

“And those are?” She dreaded hearing what he would demand of her.

“You don’t make yourself come and you don’t remove that toy.”

She managed a tight nod at his audacity. As she went to slide out of the booth, Kingston caught her wrist. He gave it a warning squeeze, his fingers brutal and hard against the fragile bones.

“I’ll know if you disobey. And Ava, you don’t want to disappoint me.”

Ava’s nodded, smoothing her dress down once she was standing beside the booth. The sparkly purse was clutched almost desperately against her midriff as she looked around the spacious restaurant, unsure which way to go.

“Down that hall and to the left.” Kingston waved a hand in the general direction of where Jack stood. His eyes were piercing as he stared at her, and for a heart-stopping moment, Ava wondered if he was aware she’d successfully stashed a weapon for future use.

“Excuse me,” she murmured, walking away without a second glance back at their table. Doing so would raise his suspicions, something she wanted to avoid at all costs. That he let her go alone was shocking, but then again, there were multiple people inside the restaurant guarding her. Kingston could allow her the use of the restroom without his piercing gaze watching her every movement. After all, the men working for him served as his eyes and ears.

The restaurant was sleekly elegant, highlighted by dramatic lighting and old-world opulence. Slightly raised booths like the one she and Kingston occupied were lined up along black, wood-paneled walls. A gleaming white marble floor was filled with round tables situated with a view of a stage at one end. A live band was currently playing, and couples swayed to the music on a designated dance floor. Multiple chandeliers lit the space, catching the light and bouncing it off white tablecloths and silver accents.

Ava hurried past the dance floor, barely paying the band any attention although they were playing the type of music she loved. It was music like her mom and dad always danced around the house to when they were being silly. The kind of music that had Dad pulling her off the couch so he could swing her around while she laughed in delight.

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