Authors: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
Get it together, Mia. This is a mind game.
The guy was probably in the room right now, watching me and enjoying the hell out of my reaction. Well, I wasn’t going to give him one.
I cleared the sticky, indecent thoughts from my throat. “No. You tell King, no sex. No sex tonight.”
The woman repeated her instructions.
“Tell King if he wants sex, he can go fuck himself.”
She stared.
“You don’t understand me, do you?” I asked.
She slapped her palms together, symbolizing a man and woman lying together. “You make di sex tonight.” She nodded happily as if she believed we’d come to some sort of understanding, and then walked from the room, leaving the dress laid out on the bed.
Lord, help me.
The entire time I showered—yes, and shaved—I kept thinking about the part of me that really did want him. He was a beast that oozed sexual desire.
More like a goddamned lion. And you’re lunch.
So why couldn’t I make the feelings go away?
Mia. Stop. Just be on your guard and stay focused.
We had the Artifact now and were so close to the end of this nightmare. Justin would be brought back. King’s suffering would end.
And King will be gone from your life forever.
I drew in a deep breath, the hot water beating down mercilessly on my tense neck. “This is goodbye.” The man who’d lived over three thousand years, who’d witnessed the world age and change, would soon cease to exist. And curse or no curse, this would be the end of something profoundly epic, the end of a king from a lost civilization.
My mind quickly began to wander. What had the world—his world—been like? What had King been like? I tried to imagine him before Hagne’s evil had sunk its claws into his soul and turned his life into an unimaginable suffering, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t visualize King being…well, a king. Or just a man. With a heart and worries, with disappointments and triumphs, just like anyone else.
Whoever he once was and whatever he knew would soon be gone. Just like that. All to end his suffering and for “everything to be set right again, for everyone to get back what was taken,” as he’d once said.
I finished rinsing my body and shut off the water, solemnly comprehending that there would be a sacrifice on his part. A big one. And just like that, I felt my heavy mental armor eroding.
King was going to die.
Feeling like the wind had been knocked out of me, I sat on the bed and held my hands over my mouth. Evil tendencies or not, the good in him triumphed. No, it wasn’t love, but it was a start. A start to our end.
~~~
Forty minutes later on the dot, I made my way down the stairs—shaved, plucked, hair swept up into a twist, and a hint of red for my lips—in a dress that barely left room to sit, let alone breathe. My breasts nearly spilled from the top of the black satin scallops that formed the neckline, and only a centimeter of flesh stood between me and exposing my nipples to the world.
“You look very nice, Miss Turner,” Stefanos held out his arm, “but you are late.”
I carefully took the last step in my spiked black heels before latching on to him. “Sorry. But King ordered additional grooming for tonight.”
Stefanos raised one dark brow but did not say a word.
He walked me through the spacious living room and a side door, where a gleaming black, very large and fast-looking helicopter awaited on the cement pad. With the sun almost completely set and the sky streaked with hot pink bolts, my ride looked more like an evil black beast waiting to whisk me away to the land of sin.
I shuddered and my skin erupted with goose bumps.
“Are you all right?” asked Stefanos, probably wondering why I’d stopped moving.
I had a very bad feeling all of a sudden.
It’s your nerves, Mia. Suck it up.
I flashed a glance at the sleek helicopter. The pilot wore a tux and stood at attention next to a set of small steps placed beneath the door. He quickly bowed, and it made me laugh. King wanted very badly to make me feel special tonight.
Maybe that’s why you feel nervous.
“Miss Turner?” Stefanos said. “It’s time to go.”
I took a deep breath and made my way to the black beast.
“Good evening, Miss Turner. Right this way.” The pilot gestured toward the cabin.
“Thank you.” I flashed a polite smile.
Once inside, I paused for a moment to take in the extravagant decor. I’d never been inside a helicopter, but this looked more like the executive lounge at some swanky nightclub—black leather seats surrounding a table topped with a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket. The recessed lights were slightly dimmed, and calming spa-like music piped in from the surround sound system. It actually felt larger and more spacious than King’s private jet.
“Have a lovely evening,
my queen
.” Stefanos dipped his head and shut the door after the pilot climbed in.
“Make yourself comfortable.” The pilot proceeded to the front cabin and shut the door behind him. The engine cranked almost immediately, but instead of a roar like I’d seen in movies, the sound was a quiet purr.
I stood there staring at the empty chairs, wondering where the real alcohol was hidden.
“We are about to depart, Miss Turner,” said the pilot over the intercom. “Please take your seat.”
I felt the floor lift beneath me straight into the air, and my stomach lurched.
I definitely need whiskey
.
I sat patiently for a few minutes, twisting my body toward the window to watch us make our way over the ocean. But instead of going north as I thought we would, the helicopter headed east, away from the setting sun.
I kicked off my heels to make walking a bit safer and popped open the door to the cockpit. The noise was deafening.
“Hey!” I screamed. “Where are we going?”
The pilot, a thin man with gray hair, couldn’t hear me with his headphones on, so I poked his shoulder.
He glanced at me with a startled expression.
“Sorry.” I repeated my question, and he pointed to a headset hanging on the wall. I carefully slid it over my hair. “Where are we going?”
Looking ahead, the pilot responded, “I have been instructed not to speak to you or answer your questions.”
“Seriously?”
“He does not want the surprise ruined. We’ll be at our destination in an hour. I suggest you relax and make yourself comfortable.”
Great. It was clear I wouldn’t be getting any answers from this guy. I missed Mack already. At least he spoke to me.
My gaze momentarily set on my right wrist as I thought of him. Yes, I’d worn the bracelet. I’d told myself it was because I needed something to go with the outfit, that I would never run and leave my parents to deal with the loss of two children. But truth was, it gave me comfort knowing that if things got bad, really bad, I had an option. As an added precaution, I still wore the ring King had given me. Also from King’s arsenal of powerful goodies, the giant solitaire did more than simply decorate one’s finger. It could bring a person back to life if they wore it at the time of death. Yes, I’d already used it once. Not so fun, but very handy.
“Oh, and Miss Turner?” said the pilot, just as I was about to slip off the headset. “If you prefer, there is a nice bottle of scotch in the cupboard above the sink in the back. I had to secure it so it wouldn’t break.”
King’s pulling out all the stops tonight.
“Thank you.” I slipped off the headphones.
Back inside my soundproofed luxury cubbyhole in the sky, I found my prized elixir of the nerves and poured two fingers’ worth. I couldn’t make out the distillery on the old faded label, but the golden brown liquid tasted like velvety smoke and sweet toffee. This was an expensive treat, no doubt.
I took a seat and breathed it in, using the beverage as a way to keep my mind from feeling anxious. Wherever we were going, I imagined it would be interesting.
Someplace special
, he’d said. The man really wanted out of his curse, so it made sense he’d be making a special effort. Hell, maybe that was why Mack had seen a change in him—not that I had. But after three-thousand-something years, King had to be going crazy. He was so, so close to seeing his suffering end.
Of course, I needed to be on my guard. Not that King would ever welsh on our deal, but King was still King, which meant he always had some other agenda.
Getting into your pants, maybe?
I smiled to myself.
Probably.
An hour later, the helicopter set down in a field or something—I couldn’t see—nestled in complete darkness. From the lack of lights, I knew we weren’t near any cities or towns. The engine quieted and the pilot emerged from his cabin. “Right this way, Miss Turner.” He opened the door and hopped out, waiting to help me down the small steps.
Standing in the doorway, the moist ocean air immediately hit me. “Where are we?” I asked. “Where is King?”
The pilot held out his hand, and I hesitantly took it. Complete darkness surrounded the helicopter’s illuminated perimeter. The sound of waves crashing far off in the distance swept over me with a gentle breeze.
“King instructed me to bring you here,” he said.
My heart started to pound. I didn’t know where “here” was. “You are
not
dumping me in some dark field in the middle of goddamned—”
“Mia, I am here with you.” I felt King’s hot breath in my ear and his warm palm press against the small of my back. “There is nothing to fear.”
I turned to find King towering over me. Even in my six-inch heels, I still felt meek compared to his size.
“He cannot see or hear me,” King explained in that deep, confident voice which told me I was behaving like a child, “and I did not want to frighten the man. By the way, you’re late for dinner.”
Ugh. King and his punctuality.
I turned toward the pilot.
“Thanks for the ride. See you later.”
The pilot dipped his head and disappeared inside the helicopter.
“So now can you tell me where we are?” I asked.
King smiled and reached out, placing his large hand on my cheek. “You look beautiful tonight, Mia.” He then rubbed his thumb across my lower lip, staring with intensity at my mouth. “I cannot wait to show you what I have planned for us.”
His devilish smile almost brought me to my knees, half in fear, half due to the excitement I felt when he touched me. It was a rush. A drug. A sick addiction.
King took my hand and led me away from the field. It was difficult to see anything, but I tried my best to make out the hard texture of the ground to avoid falling in my heels.
“My apologies for the rustic accommodations,” he said, “but cement has no place here.” He pulled me along, and I heard the helicopter’s engine start. A strong gust of wind whipped at my hair, blowing a few clumps loose.
“He’s leaving?” I asked.
“He’s needed elsewhere but will return shortly,” King said. The wind whipped violently around us.
There goes the hair.
“I prefer your hair down, anyway,” he commented.
My blonde locks generally resembled a wildebeest’s chin unless I took care to trim it regularly and use anti-wildebeest products, but there’d been little time for any of that, so I’d worn it up.
“Just don’t complain when it attacks you.” I slipped the pin from my hair and let the rest fall loose.
King let out a deep chuckle, and I had to admit, it made my toes tingle. There was nothing like it in the world—sensual, unapologetically male, and completely seductive.
“Wait here one moment,” he said.
Before I could protest, a torch burst with flames in his hand. “There. Now that the helicopter has departed, we can have light. Right this way.”
He held out the torch, and I saw a long, narrow, sandy walkway ahead and a set of stone steps leading up. Up to what, I didn’t know.
“This is my private island,” King said. “I’ve had it since I was born. Handed down from my father.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes,” he replied. “I spent many summers here with my family. It brings good memories.”
I followed him up the steps, and along the way, he lit various torches staked into the ground. “How did you keep it all this time?”
“It helps that it doesn’t appear on any maps. And I have quite the security system.”
“Dogs?” I asked.
“No. Any strangers who come near it spontaneously combust.”
“That’s a bit severe, don’t you think?”
He laughed. “All right, they do not explode into flames, but they cannot enter. They then forget they ever saw it. As I said, the island is private, and I intend to keep it that way—hidden from the world.”
I just hoped never to become shipwrecked in a place like this. It would make being rescued a bit…
Fuck.
I jerked my hand from his and stopped in my tracks, my stomach falling into my knees. I didn’t speak, but I didn’t have to; King knew exactly what was going through my head.
“Calm yourself, Miss Turner. Panicking at this point will not save you.”
I sucked in a breath. I’d been hoping for some sort of reassurance that his intent was not to imprison me here. What I got instead was a confirmation.
“Why?” I asked.
King held the torch between us, allowing me to see the sinister glow in his eyes, eyes filled with red lights—pain; horrible, excruciating pain. “Because I know what you want, Mia. And I am going to give it to you.” He smiled, and deep lines formed to the sides of his mouth.
“Wha-what is it you think I want?”
He leaned in a bit. “To scream as I break you.”
~~~
I savor the delightful sound of Mia’s terror-filled cry and the exquisite horror in her blue eyes as she realizes the truth. Oh yes, her mind is working hard now, putting together those tiny, unsavory pieces, allowing her to finally see me for who I am: a monster who takes what he desires.
And I desire her.
I have never wanted to fuck a woman more than I want Mia. Her sweet little ass and plump tits make my cock harder than a slab of granite merely thinking of them. I keep a flock of Mia lookalikes—wavy golden hair, tight asses, luscious lips meant for sucking—on call simply to keep my uncivilized urges at bay. But my wait is now over, and I will have it all: my life returned to me; my revenge; Mia’s soft lips wrapped around my shaft, begging me to come in her mouth.