Page 75 of Brutal King

I do as he says, lifting myself so that my ass is on the cold steel surface. A shiver passes over me. “You do realize I’ll destroy the film before I let you see it.”

He chuckles. “It’s a good thing I’m committing it all to memory.” Another picture. “Spread your legs. I want to see your pussy.”

I’ve shown him this part of me many times, but this is different somehow. It’s sexy as hell and dirty and so erotic, I can hardly breathe. I open my legs slowly, and he sucks in a breath. It must be more for him too.

Reaching for it, he touches my slit and captures the moment. Then, he undoes his zipper and releases his cock. Standing between my legs, he takes a photograph of himself at my entrance.

“So fucking sexy,” he murmurs as he pushes in.

I throw my head back, reveling in the sensation of having him inside me. Through hooded eyes, I watch him fuck me as he takes photo after photo— of my body, his cock sliding into me, and my gasps of pleasure.

But as the tension inside me builds, it becomes harder to focus on what he’s doing. All I can do is feel. Feel how he stretches me and fills me and rubs against that inner part that pushes me to the edge.

He’s there with me. A roar rips from him as he comes. I pulse around his dick and fall apart and he captures it all. Then, when we’re both spent, he pulls out of me and takes one last photo as his essence spills from me.

“You are perfection, Little Bird.”

19

SOFIA

Asound in the distance wakes me. The memory echoes through my mind, faint, but sharp enough that I know it wasn’t my imagination.

I sit up and push away the two cats off my legs. They’re cute as hell, but now that some of them have migrated to my room, I hardly sleep. I’m constantly roused by the weight of them on me, or their purring or pawing. I’ve gone from sleeping deeply, to lying in waiting for my feet to be attacked.

The clock on my nightstand says it’s three in the morning. Ugh! I just want to sleep until nine, is that so much to ask?

Expecting Gideon to come through the door, followed by the remaining felines, I stare at it sleepily. He should just stay here or me there. All this traveling at night is wearing me out.

“Hello?” I call out when he doesn’t come in. “Gideon?”

Slipping out from under the blankets, I go to the door and peer out into the hall. It’s dark and silent and empty.

There’s another sound, slight and barely there. It’s not one of the manor’s usual bumps in the night or a random breeze blowing through a crack somewhere.

What is Gideon up to? If he’s not here, that means he’s up to no good. Probably plotting someone’s demise. His next target on the men who killed his father.

I tiptoe all the way down to the first floor, and peek around the corner toward the study. It’s dark in there, no sign of life.

Hmm. If he’s not there…

I enter the kitchen to find the counter full of brown grocery bags and Gideon’s legs visible under the open fridge door.

“Isn’t it kind of late for a snack?” I slam the door shut to scare him and laugh when he screams like a girl. But my laughter dies almost instantly. “You’re not Gideon.”

“I…” He’s an older man, dark skinned with a bald head and round glasses. Holding his hand to his chest, he mutters, “Excuse me.”

Before I can ask him anything else, he runs past me. I barely even have time to react, partly because I’m still in shock of seeing someone else in the house, and partly because he’s too old to be that fast.

When I snap out of it, I take off after him. He shoves through the door that leads to the basement, descending at least two steps at a time.

“Wait!” I scream, but he ignores me.

I hear the buttons on the keypad being pushed.

“Stop!” I beg. The door is shutting as I reach the bottom of the stairs, all I can see is his apologetic brown eye. “No!”

The lock is set just as I get there. I slam my palms against the steel, slam them until they sting. “Please come back. Please let me out. He’s holding me captive!”

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