Page 8 of Hostile King

It’s not a threat of death, it's a promise of something neither of us can contain—the brokenness of him and I. Still warring with him, my struggle weakens ever so slowly, my insides responding to his turmoil. Need spills from his hot gaze, melting me beneath his strength. The traitorous rush of our bodies writhing together is too intense, too convoluted.

It's a dangerous belief to accept the violence keeping me prisoner won’t truly destroy me.

It will.

Hewill.

The second his gaze darts to the men surrounding us, I shove my knee into his groin and roll out from under him when he coughs. My lungs barely expand to inhale the earthy air, even though my pulse is hammering. Crawling on hands and knees, I glance over my shoulder to watch his predatory physique rise with thinning limitations. But I won’t wait for his spine to straighten.

There’s no reasoning with the madness inside of him.

“Detain the General immediately,” I hear him snarl as my pace quickens. “Get that fucker out of the main house and away from my family. Tell my brothers he’s a snake who planned an assassination.”

Goosebumps shower my sweat -laden skin when he howls my name like his lungs are on fire. His gravelly tone explodes with a thousand missiles, all of them attacking my retreat.

This time, I don’t hesitate. I listen to my instincts and not his crazed demands to stay still. I scramble, bouncing to the pads of my unsteady feet and bunch the majestic material wrapping my hips in fists.

My heart thumps, the erratic pulse jumping in my throat. He doesn’t relish softness, or leniency. Handing myself over to him and facing whatever consequences he deems fit terrifies me. So, I do what I have to do to survive.

I bolt.

“DO. NOT. DISOBEY. ME,” he yells after me, his tone torn up to match his chaotic appearance.

Then all I hear is the determined strike of his leather soles against the damp planks, beating out a tempo like drums before a crusade behind me.

3

TOMÁS

She runs from me, and it all goes to shit.

My limited self-control snaps. The tight leash to tame my irrational temper gets away from me. And the lust I’ve tried so desperately to curb scorches my veins.

I’ve felt the pull of destruction a thousand times before. It’s a swirling dark fog that steals my soul and turns me into a mindless monster. An uncontrollable man who’s missing a kill switch.

But chasing her has my pulse pumping faster, harder, and hungrier. The possessive urge to rip the dazzling dress to tatters and sink my teeth into her sweet flesh poisons the distant whisper of humanity. Desire blends with violence, the combination so intoxicating I can’t see straight.

All I know is that I want her so badly my jaw aches, my stomach knots, and every grain of my existence burns for her.

Chills flounder over my hot skin, not knowing how to react. My feet move like my legs have a mind of their own. Carina ducks left, following the man-made path to my father’s tomb. I run faster to close the distance, maddened by her swiftness.

She doesn’t need to look back to know I’m chasing her. My pounding strides echo through the vine twisted tunnel, every strike a harsh warning that I’m getting closer.

When she scurries into the concrete burial chamber Papa had constructed, I laugh out loud, my sanity lacerated by this need to fill her tight little cunt with my cum. I bound in after her, the predator trapping its prey with a dead end.

Prowling through the dim passage lit only by a soft haze from the belly of the tomb, the air changes, the jungle fracas ceases, and the temperature drops.

I rake my hands through my hair to gather some sort of decorum. Failing when my fingers clash with slimy spatters of another man’s blood clinging to the short tips. It’s all over me—fucking everywhere. I can sense the gore smothering my shivery skin. Smell its revolting coppery odor and taste the bitterness of death in my mouth.

The excruciating sensation of blood has thrown me into a realm where inflicting death is the only way out…or burying my dick inside Carina.

My stomach heaves, forcing me to buckle until my knees hit dirt. I try to fight the aversion and harness my disgust, somehow shoving myself to my feet again. Staggered steps carry me further down the passageway, craving the one thing I know would save me from myself.

Her touch. Her smile. Her scent.

Simplyher.

But I can’t think clearly. I’m slipping from humanity. Drenched by thunderous rain clouds that have darkened my existence for too many years.

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