Page 9 of Steal a King (Five Kings 2)

Lucas

Ilied to her. As I walk from the room, I laugh to myself. I told her she was safe. She’s not—from me. I love a woman with attitude. Someone who’s not afraid to answer back; a woman with balls of steel who isn’t afraid to stand up for what she believes in. Then there’s the soft, vulnerable side to her that makes me want to protect her. The shivering woman who I know would feel good in my arms. But it’s the fire in her that excites me the most. Those long legs wrapped around my waist as I drive in deep. The full and plump lips that would look good wrapped around my cock and those tits that would replace a good meal for me any day of the week. Yes, Ella Quinn is not safe from me because I have been searching for a woman like her and she will only leave when I’m done with her.

She follows me to one of my guest rooms that I had made ready today. When Ryder discussed the plan with me, I was dreading every minute of having a stranger invading my personal space. I hate entertaining people here. Hell, I have an empire of hotels and don’t think I’ve ever allowed anyone to spend one night as my guest, let alone several, preferring instead to entertain them in one of my many penthouses dotted around the city and the states. Now I’m even more surprised to find I’m looking forward to it. There is something so refreshing about Ella Quinn. An innocent aura that would look good broken at her feet when I ruin her forever. A perfect Angel, untarnished and innocent, realizing how much better it is to be ruined and corrupted.

Yes, today is not turning out as bad as I thought it would, and hearing her soft footsteps behind me and the waft of fear that surrounds her, is turning me on so much I’m tempted to move this on with her tonight. Then again, that would scare her, which is not what I’m about. I prefer a gradual awakening, a discovery on her part, that moment when she falls - hard and breaks open at my feet, her inner devil stepping out from the remnants of respectability, knowing that I’m the one responsible. Too bad that’s the moment I usually kick them out. I lose interest at that point and move onto the next. Yes, Lucas Emiliano is a bastard and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

We reach the furthest room from mine and if I wanted, she could live here and I wouldn’t see her for days. That was my intention anyway, but as I open the door and hear her soft gasp behind me, I’m wondering about moving her a little closer. Just thinking of her lying in the next room to me would be delicious torture, knowing she was so close yet so unattainable would be the biggest turn on—for me.

“This room is…”

She can’t even find the right adjectives to use, and I congratulate myself on attracting the best designers that money can buy. Because yes, this room is impressive by anyone’s standards, and to my knowledge she is the first person to ever see it.

Her rather shabby suitcase is set up on the stand and looks like a blemish on alabaster skin. Ella herself sticks out much the same in her scruffy clothes as she looks around with travel weary eyes. Yet she has a natural beauty that dims the effect of the extreme wealth around her. Like a freshly bloomed wild flower in an award-winning garden, it is her that draws the most admiration.

I make a fist because I am fighting the urge to touch–her. Release that long luscious hair from the binding, watch her shiver as I run my fingers down her perfect face. Watch her bite her lip and her eyes glaze over with lust before I rid her of her clothes and run my eyes over nature’s finest piece of art.

Instead, I turn away and say gruffly, “This is your room, not bad for a prison but remember that’s exactly what it is. You will live here until the matter is resolved. We have your phone, your personal items, passport, money and credit cards, where I have placed them in my safe. There is no way out of here unless I agree. Your meals will be served to you here, and you have full use of the facilities of any door that remains unlocked. Once again, I have control of that, so if I don’t want you in a particular room, you will not be granted access. There is a private gym, a pool on the terrace and a cinema room. If you would like a massage, or a beauty treatment, you can call reception and arrange it—the list of what’s on offer is by your bed. I will check in with you when I have anything to say, I may need to ask some questions to help resolve this situation and then, when that happens, you will be taken home safe in the knowledge you are alive at least. Any questions?”

“What about my family?” She sounds nervous and afraid, and it’s obvious they mean the most to her. Many women I know would be thinking only of themselves at this point, yet my little wild flower is full of concern for others—I love that about her.

“They are being protected, but they won’t know. Ryder runs a slick operation and has eyes on them 24/7. He is also working on building the picture that led up to this, to find the person responsible for daring to think they can step into our lives and leave at will. No, you leave your family’s safety to the professionals and know you’re safe here.”

“Am I?” She stares at me with an unwavering gaze and I laugh to myself. “Probably not, which is why I intend on keeping my distance.”

I feel a flash of disappointment when I see the relief in her expression which surprises me. Why do I care if she wants to spend time with me or not? She’s a stranger, a slightly scruffy girl off the street, one I wouldn’t give a second look to if I saw her pass me one day. She is beneath me in every way and above me in the ones that count. She looks around her as if she’s fascinated but given half a chance would change everything for something simpler, less ostentatious, less like a show home and more like a real one—whatever that looks like.

Fighting an incredible urge to see her naked, I look down and say brusquely, “I’ll leave you to settle in. Enjoy your stay, Miss. Quinn, for both our sakes, I hope it’s not a long one.”

I don’t even wait for her answer, I don’t even take the time to show her around because I need air and fast because the stench of innocence is burning my soul. I don’t want the responsibility of her. I don’t need it. I have an empire to run, I have meetings, emails, business dinners, trips and an endless round of shit to deal with but strangely the only thing I want to do—is her.

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