Empire of Sin (Empire #2) by Rina Kent

“Bend you over the nearest object and fuck that tight cunt of yours until you can no longer hold in those screams. Until I have to grab you by the throat and jam my fingers into this mouth to mute you, but guess what?”

“W-what?”

“You’ll probably never shut up, will you? You’ll just keep screaming until everyone can hear you. Until everyone knows you’re being fucked deep and raw by me.”

She’s flat out shaking now, a different type of red that’s nothing like the anger that was covering her cheeks. And my cock becomes painfully hard, so hard that I can barely contain it without adjusting my trousers.

“Wouldn’t everyone think you’re harassing me since you’re a partner and I’m just a lowly employee?”

“Am I harassing you, my little liar?”

“Maybe you are.”

“Maybe you’re too scared to admit how much you like it.”

“Maybe you’re too arrogant and think everyone will fall for your charms.”

“I don’t just think it, I believe it.”

“That’s what all arrogant jerks say.”

“I think I have enough reasons to be arrogant.”

“Like what?”

“My looks, for starters. Even you fell for it that first time in the bar.”

“That wasn’t a very studied decision. Besides, I would’ve slept with the first man who appeared. I wasn’t being picky.”

My jaw clenches so hard, I’m surprised a tendon doesn’t snap. “You would’ve slept with anyone. Interesting.”

“Yeah, so it’s not about your looks or your accent or the scent of your cologne.”

I smile. “Good to know what you liked about me.”

“I’m saying that so you have no misconceptions.”

“I don’t have those, beautiful. Do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you would’ve slept with anyone, but you didn’t. You let me fuck you any way I wanted. You didn’t even comment on being tied up or thrown down, you took it all like the good little submissive you are.”

“I…am not.”

“If you repeat that a hundred times before you fall asleep, you might start to believe it.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She grabs the forearm of my hand that’s on her throat. “You’re not the only fish in the sea, Knox.”

“What?”

“You’re not the only one with a useful dick out there. So if I want more fun or to let go, I’ll just go to a bar and pick someone else to spend the night with.”

A muscle tics in my jaw again. My body tightens and so does my hold on her throat. She wheezes, her face reddening with the lack of air and I release her because I’m two seconds away from suffocating the fuck out of her.

“You don’t want to play that game with me, Anastasia.” My voice is eerily calm considering the fire that’s eating me from the inside out.

“Why? Because you’re the only one allowed to play games?” She tilts her head to the side. “You don’t know who you’re up against, Knox. You really, really should’ve pretended you didn’t know me, but you made it hard for both of us and started a needless game. One that I decided to play.”

“Hmm. We’re playing, then?”

“We are. And guess what the first rule is?”

“Enlighten me.”

“No fucking.”

“Today?”

“Ever.”

I chuckle, the sound dark and ominous to my own ears. I approach her and she must see the menacing look in my eyes, because her feet falter. But she does manage to stop herself before she steps back, I’ll give her that.

I tower over her tiny frame so that I’m looking down on her. She’s so small, I want to throw her over my fucking shoulder. “Let’s see how long you’ll last, because I promise that I’ll fuck those words out of you, beautiful.”





13





ANASTASIA





If there’s anything I can count on from Gwen, it’s that she’ll try to take me out for lunch every single day.

At first, I fought it and tried to come up with different excuses about how I couldn’t be outside, but she’s persistent and definitely doesn’t take no for an answer. I think that part of her determined personality is due to her father’s and Nathaniel’s influence. Growing up surrounded by powerful people can have one of two effects on you.

Either you become as powerful as they are, like my cousin, or you retreat into yourself trying to survive each day on its own, like me.

Gwen is in the middle. She’s not too out there, but she’s definitely not a recluse either.

And because of her, we’re having lunch in a huge restaurant downtown with one of her friends from college—an intern who joined the firm at the same time that she did. His name is Chris and he has long hair that reaches his nape and obviously hates suit jackets, because his is lying on the chair beside him. Along with his tie.

The clinking of utensils and a low hum of chatter echo in the air like a distorted symphony with a horrible orchestra. Not only that, but the smell of food and a mixture of perfumes make the atmosphere as suffocating as trying to breathe underwater.