King of Greed (Kings of Sin #3) by Ana Huang

“Well,” Alessandra said as we pulled up to our building. I still thought of it as ours, even though it hadn’t felt like home since she left. “That was the most memorable dessert course I’ve ever had.”

Despite my trepidation, a smile ghosted my mouth. I’d missed her little quips. Her sense of humor was one of the many reasons I’d fallen in love with her, but it’d made fewer and fewer appearances over the years.

Contrition extinguished my temporary amusement.

“Sebastian is going to have a PR nightmare on his hands,” I said. I wasn’t a fan of Martin, who’d been notoriously corrupt and underhanded when he’d been alive, so I couldn’t say I was too torn up over his death. However, its circumstances and timing would have massive ripple effects to come.

“I bet.” Alessandra’s fingers tightened around the edge of her seat. “Oh God. Someone died. He was sitting right across…he…”

Her breaths shallowed. Fuck.

I quickly paid the driver and ushered her into the building and up to the penthouse before she went into shock again.

“It was likely an allergic reaction.” I doubted it, but if it made her feel better, that was what I was going with. “Unfortunate timing, but it happens. There was nothing you could do about it.”

Still, I wrapped her in a blanket and brought her a mug of tea when we entered the penthouse. The staff had clocked out for the night, so the living room was silent as she curled her hands around the drink.

“You probably think I’m overreacting.” She stared into the mug, her face unreadable. If she had any feelings about being home for the first time in weeks, she didn’t show it.

Emotion tangled in my throat. “I don’t. Seeing someone terminate in front of you is pretty traumatic.”

Alessandra’s brow arched a fraction of an inch. “Terminate?”

“It sounded better than die in my head.” I rubbed a hand over my mouth. “It doesn’t, does it?”

“No. Not really.” Her soft laugh warmed the room. Our gazes lingered on each other, and her smile slowly faded as silence descended again. This time, it was a poignant silence, filled with memories and regrets and, perhaps, the tiniest bit of hope.

“Can I confess something?” Her voice was barely audible. “When the chaos erupted and everyone was running, you were the first person I looked for. I didn’t want to, but I did.”

My heartbeats pulsed like they were finally alive.

“Good,” I said quietly. “Because I was looking for you too.”

The rest of our unspoken words spilled around us, one spark away from igniting.

Alessandra’s eyes darkened, and the spark flared to life. Flames of emotion surged through the air, incinerating any inhibitions or rational thought. The only thing left was a gnawing, insatiable desire to kiss her before I died of deprivation.

She must’ve read the intentions scrawled over my face because her breaths turned ragged. Her lips parted, and that was all the invitation I needed.

One second, we were sitting on opposite ends of the couch. The next, my mouth was on hers, her body was against mine, and we were stumbling into the elevator in a tangle of pent-up longing and heightened adrenaline. Thank god for the penthouse’s private lift because there was no chance in hell we could make it up the stairs without injuring ourselves. Not when my blood was on fire and Alessandra was grasping my hair with a desperation that cut into my soul.

We somehow made it to the bedroom in one piece. I kicked the door shut behind us, and our clothes fell to the floor with little care.

Dress. Shoes. Shirt. Underwear.

They left a rumpled trail behind us as we fell onto the bed. I kissed my way down her neck and chest while my fingers found the heat between her legs.

So wet. So perfect. So mine.

Alessandra let out a small whimper when I closed my mouth around her nipple, licking and sucking until she pulled my hair hard enough to hurt.

“Please,” she panted, bucked against my hand in a fruitless search for more friction. “More. I need more.”

“More what?” I grazed my teeth over her nipples and soothed them with soft, leisurely licks. One hand forced her writhing hips still while the other played with her clit, lingering on the spots that drove her wild. “Tell me what you want, amor.”

“I want…oh God.” Her hands fisted the sheets as I continued my journey down her torso. My mouth trailed between her breasts, down her stomach and over the smooth rise of her pubic bone. Her skin was hot to the touch, and tiny trembles wracked her body the closer I got to her clit.

I paused at the juncture of her thighs and looked up, soaking in the sight of her flushed face and glazed eyes.

“I asked you a question,” I said calmly. I pushed a finger inside her, eliciting another cry. “Tell me what you want, or I’ll keep you here all night.”

“I want you inside me,” Alessandra panted. She squirmed, clenching around me with obvious need.

“I am inside you.” I added a second finger, withdrew, then pumped inside her again with agonizing slowness. My body practically vibrated with the need to thrust inside her and taste her cries as she came, but I wanted to draw this out as long as possible and savor every second. “Be more specific.”

“Fuck me.” Her plea escaped as a gasp. “I want your cock inside me. Please.”