Page 11 of Broken Queen
A throat cleared behind me. I spun around with the crown in my palm.
Zira stared at me. Her skin was still oiled, her long legs against the doorframe. Her blue eyes should have belonged to the girl next door, but there was nothing innocent about her; you could see every evil thought in those blue eyes, like she could tear you apart and not even lift a finger.
My dick twitched at the thought.
I bowed, smirking at her. “I was wondering when you’d show up,” I said.
She tilted her head, her tongue snaking across her pink painted lips. This close and in the darkness, her dark brown roots were beginning to show on her scalp, only furthering the idea that she hid her evil truth behind a veil.
“Did you find what you’re searching for?” Her voice was cool and tart, like a perspiring glass of lemonade made from the good powder. I nodded, then ran my hands over the hard metal.
“Your daddy wanted me to incorporate these materials into the wall fixtures,” I lied, giving her a view of my teeth. We both knew that I was full of shit, but the question was whether or not she’d indulge me. “He said this little thing shouldn’t be sitting here, locked up, all pretty in a glass case. You’ve got to put something this precious into good use.”
She gave me a thin smile, reading the subtext behind my words. Perhaps she was amused.
“You better do what my daddy says, then.” Her chest expanded as she glanced at her nails. “Though personally, I’d just steal it.”
I cocked a brow at her. A smirk tugged at her lips. She wanted me to steal it, didn’t she? She was taunting me with the knowledge that she knew I was lying.
But if the woman was smart like I thought she was, she wanted to use it as blackmail against me.
Screw it. I didn’t care. I wasn’t scared of the Blooms, or jail, or death. I opened my mouth, letting my jaw pop like a tap on a drum.
“So the heiress likes to play games,” I said.
“I simply like a little chaos in my life. Don’t you, Hazard?”
My tongue swiped over my teeth. A vein throbbed in her neck, begging for my mouth. But I passed to the side, gripping the crown in my hand.
“I best get going,” I said. She was up to something, and it both excited and unsettled me. We were like two predators circling each other, waiting for the other one to pounce first. She stepped to the side, giving me room to exit.
“Hazard?” she asked, grabbing my arm. I stopped. “You forgot the scepter.”
A wave of heat brushed over me, then cooled. This woman had gotten under my skin and made me forget the scepter. I waltzed back, my shoulders straight, picking it up, the damn thing like a sword in my hand. I tossed it from one hand to the other, debating whether to smack Zira’s ass with it. It’d leave a nice bruise.
I’d have to save that for later.
“Thanks, love,” I said, winking as I passed her.
I exited the building, finding the supplies shed. Most of the staff had left for their lunch break, which is precisely why I went there. It was called the ‘supplies shed,’ but it housed the break room and storage facilities for different subsections of work here on the estate. I leaned against the exterior, watching the main building in the distance, waiting for that head of blond hair to emerge like a ring of fire. And when Zira finally did, stilettoed sandals clinging to her delicate feet, she passed me without a glance, then dove into the pool.
Perfect teeth. Pink lips. Blue eyes, more dangerous than a glacier. And a pert little body, tanned and glowing, covered in oil, like a meal ready for me to devour. I wiped my forehead.
I went inside the supplies shed, found one of my ‘work’ crates, then took out the bull skull mask. I had stolen it from an old employee, back in Northside, a man who collected oddities like this one. It wasn’t a traditional bull skull with eyes on the sides, but had holes hollowed into the front for a human to wear. The snout stretched forth, bigger than most bulls, almost as if it transformed the wearer into a monster.
The skull was heavy on my head, shifting back and forth with each step. My vision narrowed to those circles. I walked around the supplies shed, then found a patio set hidden to the side of the pool. An umbrella stretched out, and from this angle, I could see Zira sprawled out on one of those high-end pool chairs, the white swimsuit fabric—see-through now that it was wet—clinging to her body. Suddenly, she dived into the water again, then burst out.
There wasn’t another staff member in sight.
I unzipped my pants, pulling out my cock. I rubbed the head of my tattooed dick, watching as she emerged from the pool, her bare feet stepping on each rung. Water beaded down her body in a race to lick the ground she walked on. Zira laid on the side of the pool, her bare back against the concrete, her arms stretched out over her head, water brushing between her breasts like the tide. Her lips wet. Her hair slicked back like a goddess. The mask rattled against my head as I clutched my dick until it was red and black. I wanted her to catch me. I wanted to see her face when she realized she was being violated by a man who didn’t care if she found out he was watching her. I wanted her to know I didn’t care, because I wanted her.
She was power trapped inside of a cage, and goddamn it all, I wanted to let her out.
Sensing my presence, Zira sat up, searching around until her eyes glazed over me. I fucked myself harder, my fist pounding into my groin, remembering how her throat squeezed around my dick as a crowd of people watched us. Hundreds of eyes beamed on us as I took her life in my hands with each click of that remote. Her head was so pretty in the guillotine as her husband tried to fuck her from behind and failed, emasculated by me.
Zira stepped toward me, her feet flat on the ground, but I kept pounding my fist over my length, gripping my dick like a steering wheel in a car about to crash. Without her heels, she made it to my shoulders, but sitting on the patio chair, gripping my dick, she towered over me, eclipsing the sun.
She greedily gawked at my dick, no doubt recognizing the tattoo. Black barbed wires curled around my reddened skin. It was a tattoo I had gotten on a whim, and it was only supposed to be a little ring at the base of my dick, but the pain of the needle was like pure ecstasy, so I asked the artist to do the full length.
