Page 13 of Where the Wicked Reign

“Focus,” he said, disappearing behind me. I heard his footsteps heading over to the bed.

“I can’t do that with a raging hard dick,” I said, craning my neck to see what he was up to.

I watched him grab the key to the cuff from the mattress where I’d left it earlier.

“I told you, I was about to burst.”

He came back to me and reached up and unlocked the cuff and I dropped my arm, massaging my wrist.

I walked to the garbage can, ripped off the condom, then tossed it inside.

Grumbling under my breath at him ruining my much-needed session, I moved to pick my clothes up off the floor when he slapped my hand away from grabbing my pants.

“We’ll do it your way.”

“We will?” It wasn’t like him to be so accommodating when it came to urgent matters, such as the business I’d been away dealing with.

He merely nodded, then let out a sharp whistle.

In the next second, the door was opening again.

Then Emilio’s mammoth form stood at the threshold.

He took in the room, the deep-red walls with gold accents, the black bench along one wall lined with various plugs, vibrators, whips, and gags. Chains hanging from the center of the ceiling where I’d been just moments ago. There were two black leather saucer chairs at the far end of the room in either corner. And the centerpiece was the round king-size four-poster bed with crimson sheets with gold trim, the gold extending to the drapes hanging down. Each room in my private lifestyle club—what was commonly known as asex club—was different, built for differing needs, desires, and kinks.

Once he was done giving the room a once-over, his attention centered on me.

His nostrils flared, his pretty espresso eyes narrowing.

He looked hotter than ever when he was pissed at me, all that impressive muscle bulging beneath his gray tank, those cords in his neck straining. I licked my lips at the noticeable hard-on pressing against his distressed blue jeans. “Hey, baby. Missed you too.”

He kicked the door shut, harder than necessary. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Those three were just my playthings for part of the night. A couple of hours at the most. Don’t get your sexy crimson boxers in a bunch.”

He growled and strode toward me, one menacing step at a time.

Delicious.

He kept his eyes on mine as he stopped in front of me.

“Stronzo,”he spoke through gritted teeth.

I slapped my hand to my heart. “Ouch.” As he glared out at me, I said, “I much prefer it when you call meSunshine.”

“Well, I’m not exactly in the fucking mood to do that.”

“You were meant to seek us out immediately when you returned to the city,” Nico spoke.

“And I intended to, but I was a little worked up, so I decided to stop in here briefly first.”

“Briefly? You’ve been here for two hours,” Milo said.

“Well, you know me, baby. Stamina and all.”

That just earned me another growl.

Damn,he was really worked up. I knew the feeling all too well.

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