King of Masters by Brynn Ford

CHAPTER 26

Murphy

"YOU DEFENDED HER,” Stella says softly after the boardroom has cleared.

I close my folio and look over at her.

“You defended Anya because of me.”

“Did I?”

She nods, her expression questioning. “You told them they couldn’t kill the wife of a Head of House. You said that because you fear they’d do the same to me.”

“You have nothing to be afraid of. I did my due diligence to ensure your acceptance by the four families.” I pause. “I would never let anyone hurt you.”

“I’m not afraid of them. They bark loud, but they have no bite.”

“Then why do you bring it up?” I push my chair back to stand, waiting for her to follow before moving toward the door. I hold it open for her as we pass through into the hallway, heading for our bedroom upstairs.

“I think you might just be capable of empathy, Murphy O’Shea.”

“I never claimed that I wasn’t.”

“Declan’s right about you,” she says more to herself than to me. “You wear a mask.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I am who I am. I’ve never pretended to be someone I’m not.”

“Well, obviously, that’s bullshit. You lied to me for the first seven months of our relationship.”

“I omitted the specifics.”

“Don’t start. I’m trying to thank you.”

I chuckle. “Are you? Because I’m not getting that at all.”

We walk beside each other a few paces in silence, and I let it linger. We’re always exchanging words, always arguing and fighting each other for power. A few strides in silence is peacefully different for us—and not at all what I expected after her first board meeting. I expected an explosion, but what I’m getting is merely a spark.

Still, heat is heat, and it burns between us all the same.

Rather unexpectedly, she reaches for my hand, her fingers warily grazing mine. I don’t give her time to change her mind. I snap my palm around her hand and hold tight.

A fucking firework explodes between our hands, sending flames licking over my body, suddenly fueling me to grab her, touch her, feel her with rough and passionate hands.

I hear the breath she draws in with a gasp as I squeeze her hand tighter. She looks at me, and with my gaze, I wordlessly tell her how I intend to smother her and douse our sparking flame properly once we’re alone in our bedroom.

I open the door that leads to the hidden spiral staircase and let go of her hand as she passes, making her way up the steps. I’m quick to follow, laying eyes on her spectacular arse as she climbs. I’d love to drag her down to her knees on these steps and shove my fingers into her from behind, but I let the anticipation build.

A heated, heavy silence lingers as we step onto the landing and move down the hallway. When we reach our bedroom, she stops just outside the door, turning to look at me.

Her forehead creases as her dark eyebrows dip toward her nose. “Do you love me?”

“What kind of question is that? We’re married.”

“Marriage and love aren’t the same. And I don’t think you’ve ever actually said the words to me. I love you. But then tonight, it was so clear that the thought of something happening to me if you weren’t alive to protect me made you angry.”

“Of course, it made me angry.”

“Because you love me?”

I search her eyes because I don’t understand her question.

Does she not know that I do?

I reach around her to quickly unlock and push the door open, then step forward, forcing her to walk backward until she’s inside and I can close it behind us.

“Can you answer the question?” She looks up at me with a serious expression, a confused expression.

I grab her cheeks and step in close. Her fingers land on my wrists delicately as I press my forehead to hers. “I’m angry at myself because you have to ask me that.”

“Do you love me?”

I walk her toward the bed. “I have loved you since the moment I met you.”

Her eyes quickly flicker as they scan mine for truth. Her gaze is filled with confusion and maybe something that looks like fear. “I wish you didn’t.”

My eyes narrow and I tug my head back, though my hands stay firmly clamped to her cheeks. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m grateful for what you said tonight…that you defended Anya, that you defended me.”

“But what?”

“But I can never accept who you are with them, with the four families. I can never accept the man you pretend to be with them. I can never love the man who leads depravity instead of fighting it. I can never…” her voice catches, and she pauses. “I can never let myself love you fully. I’m against you, Murphy. I’m against you and what you stand for, and nothing will ever change my mind.”

My chest tightens. I drop my hands from her face and spin, pacing away.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

I whip around to face her. “You’re a terrible liar, sweetheart.”

“I’m…what?”

“You’re lying to yourself to pretend you don’t love every despicable part of me.”

She shakes her head. “I know what it feels like to love you because I loved you before you took me from my life. There was even a moment after our wedding that I thought maybe I could love you still, maybe I could teach you, help you understand that what you’re doing is wrong—”

“Who the fuck are you to determine what’s right and wrong?”

“I’m the woman you claim to love!”

“You say that as if you don’t believe me.”

“How could I?”

I march toward her, reaching out to snatch her by the throat, her eyes popping wide. “Because you were never meant to be mine, Stella, and I made you mine. I loved you so fucking much that I re-wrote our destinies because I had to have you.” I grip her tighter, wrangling her around and shoving her back against the wall. “I stole you to keep you safe. I stole you so I could love you and care for you better than any other man ever could.”

“This is better, then?” she scoffs. “Grabbing your wife by the throat and shoving her against the wall for speaking her truth?”

“You fucking love it when I do this, so don’t pretend you don’t.” I feel her throat bob against my hand as she swallows, and it spurs me on. “You love when I wrap my fingers around your throat and squeeze.” I do what I say, pinching the sides of her neck with care. “You love it when I throw you against the wall, when I bend you over and spank you, when I bruise you, cut you, make you bleed.”

She slaps me and I turn my head to the side. She reaches out to do it again but I wrap my palm around her wrist. She grits her teeth, her eyes narrowing with fury as she tries to free herself from my grip, her body writhing against mine as she pushes.

“Say it, Stella. Tell me the truth. Tell me how much you love the way I hurt you.”

“Why, so you can justify hurting me again?”

“Then tell me to let go. Tell me to walk away. Tell me and I will.”

I stare her down, meeting her intense gaze with my own. We both pant, our furious breaths the only sound between us for heated seconds.

I lean in close enough that our noses touch. “Tell me.”

In a mad rush, she tilts her chin and kisses me. She puts her lips on mine, and the madness shifts from rage to pure lust that’s so consuming, I can’t ignore it. I kiss her back with fury, shoving my tongue into her mouth and lashing hers with mine. I let go of her throat, grab both of her wrists firmly, and slam them to the wall on either side of her head.

She lets out a puff of breath as I break away from her lips to mark a trail down the side of her neck. I grab the strap of her dress with my teeth and drag it down her shoulder. It falls easily, the soft fabric that creates the deep V between her breasts slipping to expose her bare flesh beneath.

I groan as her dark nipple peeks out from the falling fabric, moving quickly to catch it with my teeth and nip at it. Her hips buck against mine as she gasps her approval. I suck and lick frantically, scrubbing my coarse beard over her flesh.

I let go of her wrists and she drops them to grip my shoulders. I move against her, kissing across her chest, working my way up her cleavage to her throat as I rub my hands down the curve of her arse, gripping and cupping, pulling her against me.

What were we even arguing about?

Her breathless panting is fuel to the fire that burns within my gut. Her arms wrap around me, her fingers combing into my hair from the back of my neck and clawing, tugging, holding my face against her sensitive flesh at the hollow of her throat.

I curl my fingers, digging into her arse, lifting her from the floor. She wraps a leg around my hip as I spin her and take her quickly to the bed. I drop her onto the side of it, bending with her, finding her lips, and feeding her my rough intentions—and she feeds it right back.

Her hands land on my chest and she shoves me back as she slips down, falling from the edge of the bed, slumping until she sits on the floor at my feet. Her hands scramble, reaching up to unbuckle my belt, lift the button, and tug the zipper.

I huff with strained breaths as I shove her hands aside, reaching inside my boxer briefs, fisting my cock, and tugging it out for her. She leans her head back to rest on the edge of the bed, licking her lips and opening her mouth for me as her hands come up to knead her swollen breasts.

I spread my legs to stand on either side of her hips. I come in so close that she strains her neck backward to watch me with her intoxicating, deep brown eyes.

“Fucking choke me with it,” she begs as one of her hands slips down her dress, reaching beneath to play with her pussy.

I reach down to grab her chin, towering over her. “Show me you want it. Show me your tongue.”

Her eyes flash with lust, the corners of her lips quirking into the sinful smile she reserves for these moments where we hate and love each other so much that we forget who the fuck we are. We sink into depravity and use each other to remember our passion and to forget the goddamn world around us.

She drops her mouth open wide and sticks out her beautiful, thick tongue. Holding her chin firm in my grip, I sink my fingers into her hair, combing them back on the side of her head and gripping tight so I can hold her in place. She’s at my mercy with the way I control her head.

Lifting her head and shifting my hips forward, I give her the tip. She sucks it into her mouth, making a ripple of electricity shoot up my spine. But it’s not the feeling of her perfect lips wrapped around my cock that does it for me. It’s the look in her eyes, the way she watches me, searching for my reaction because my pleasure pleases her.

We have the same filthy passion for each other—the kind of passion I’d ruin my own life for. But I ruined her life so I wouldn’t have to ruin mine, and I need to remind her who’s in charge here.

My fingers curl tighter into her hair. I let go of her chin to slip my hand around the back of her neck. I jerk her forward, thrust my hips, and shove my cock deep enough to gag her. She sputters around my thickness, and I pull back out.

“Can you take it, sweetheart?”

She licks her lips and looks up at me with blinking, needy eyes. She doesn’t say a word; instead, she grabs my hips, opens her filthy, beautiful mouth, and leans forward to suck me in deep.

“Fuck,” I hiss as she moves, her tongue rubbing wet and warm along the underside of my cock, her lips soft and tight as she moves.

It feels incredible, but I don’t want her to move. I want her to fucking choke. I push in deep, pulsing against the back of her throat, watching the way her eyes widen as tears pool and slip from the corners. Her throat bobs as she gags and swallows, as her head instinctively tugs back.

I hold her head steady and thrust quick and sharp until saliva seeps from the corners of her mouth. I pull out all the way and her lips leave my cock with a satisfying smack. I drop to my knees as I slide my hands to her cheeks, lifting her head to look at me as she gasps for a decent breath. Tears and saliva spill, making her look like the most gorgeous fucking mess I’ve ever seen.

“Are you wet for me?”

She nods in my grip.

“You want to fuck me and come hard on my lap?” I lick the dribble from her lips and feed it back to her with a consuming kiss. I pull back and give her unwavering eye contact. “You want it?”

She nods again, so lost in her lust that I imagine she’d say yes to just about anything.

“You’re so lucky you have me, aren’t you? Lucky you have me to take care of you. Other men would take advantage of you and your pretty face like this.” I let my hands slip along her jaw, brushing my thumb across her bottom lip and giving it a little tug.

“Don’t…” she swallows, “don’t ruin this with your entitlement.”

I grin. “But I am entitled to you, aren’t I?”

“When I allow it.”

I lean forward, licking just behind the shell of her ear, making her shiver. “Then you’re going to allow yourself to ride me until you come.”

I reach down to grip her waist as I switch our positions, turning to sit with my back against the side of the bed and tugging her with me. She scrambles to get her feet beneath her and moves quickly, turning to straddle me on her knees and shuffling in close.

“We could do it together,” she says cryptically as she lifts her skirt higher over her hips and reaches between us to move her panties to the side. She rubs her cunt over the length of my erection, and I twitch against the pure pleasure of her tempting wetness and heat. “We could work together.”

I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I don’t care as she twists her body, grips my cock, and angles the tip to wedge between her wet folds. She sinks down with an agonizingly slow pace, taking me inch by inch, and enjoying every aching second of it.

She sinks me in completely, settling her weight on my lap. “You and I could change everything.” She grinds her hips, rocking back and forth in slow, long thrusts. I lift my hands to cup her face, tugging her head forward until her forehead drops to rest against mine. “You don’t have to be this man…this criminal…”

I hear her words, but processing is a challenge with the way she grinds and circles her hips, her pussy already pulsing and squeezing around my cock.

Her pace gradually quickens, her gentle grinding transforms into harsh pulsing as her lips drop open and she pants for her release. She’s already so close, I can feel it. I can feel the way her walls squeeze around me, begging me, demanding me to lose control and come with her.

“Say it,” she breathes. “Say the words. Tell me you love me. Tell me you want me to be yours forever.”

“Fuck,” I groan, her brown eyes holding me, begging me. “You’re mine forever, Stella.”

“Tell me you love me. Say it.”

I tighten my grip, combing my fingers into her hair, tilting my chin to kiss her. I whisper against her lips, “I love you.”

She tenses, her entire body fighting against the orgasm I can feel pulsing around me. Her jaw ticks and she fights to steady her breath so she can speak. “Would you do anything for me?”

Shit.

I know what she’s trying to do. She’s trying to bait me into making promises I can’t keep.

“Come for me,” I command. “Fucking come for me.”

Her muscles twitch against the tension she holds, tension that begs to be released. I’m rather impressed with her ability to edge herself and stave off her climax with the way she grinds and moves.

“Would you—” she stutters through a gasping moan, her face twisting with need, “would you do anything for me?”

I drop one hand to her chest, slip it down over the mound of her breast, and rub the pad of my thumb across her nipple. She gasps, her back arching against the ache of resistance she causes herself. I roll her nipple between my fingers, a gentle twist that I know throbs right through her clit.

“Murphy…” she breathes my name as she slaps a hand on my shoulder, reaching around the back of my neck, holding onto me tight as her back arches to press her breast against my rolling fingers.

“Come. Now.”

She can’t help the way her body responds to my insistence. She trembles as she fights it, but it’s magic when she explodes. Her face opens from its twisted tension into surprised pleasure, her head falls back, her body stiffens as she thrusts through it, her fingernails slice into the skin at the back of my neck, and she shouts her release. Her writhing, pulsing pussy takes me with her, each wave of her pleasure tugging my own, pulling through my hard cock, making me spill inside.

She collapses forward against me when she’s spent, her face dropping to my shoulder. I rub a circle over her lower back with one hand until her breathing slows and gradually steadies.

When she’s come down from the high, I grab a fistful of her long, dark hair, and sharply yank to lift her head. She gasps as she meets my eyes, her chin raised as I pull back hard.

“You’re becoming one of us, Stella…trying to use sex as a weapon to get what you want from me. If you could’ve edged that orgasm a little longer, you might have had a shot.” I scoff, “Renata and Cordelia would be very proud. Did they give you tips?”

“How dare you compare me to them?”

“Don’t attempt it again. If you want to behave like a whore, then I’ll treat you as such. I’ll deny your pleasure, come in your arsehole, and make sure you’re fucking bleeding before I’m through.”

Her eyes widen with a flash of fury. “Now who’s using sex as a weapon? Against the woman he says he loves, no less.”

I feel my face twist in shame as the understanding of what I’ve just threatened sits heavily on my shoulders. I threatened to hurt her with my cock, fuck her until she bleeds, and deny her enjoyment.

I would never do that to her. I couldn’t because I could never handle being the man who hurt her. I open my mouth to apologize for threatening to be like the monsters we sell women to and treat her like a slave, but a flurry of sound outside my door draws my attention.

I hear voices and then someone frantically knocks on the door.

She seethes, breathing heavily through her flaring nostrils as her eyes send me rage. I release her and nudge her to move. She’s so disgusted with me that she jumps to her feet as soon as I let go. I know I’ve just taken a thousand steps back in her mind, and I feel the pressure of that stretching tight across my chest.

“She’ll kill her! Please, come quick!” the voice on the other side of the door says. “She has a gun!”

“What?” Stella says in surprise as she quickly pushes her dress down and straightens herself out.

“Get back,” I tell her, pulling up my pants and buckling my belt. “I want you in the bathroom until I know what’s going on. Lock the door.”

Her head bobs a little in agreement as she backs away, though her fucking curiosity makes her retreat slowly.

A second fist pounds with the first one. “Murphy, open the door and get out here! That rotten slave slut has a gun!” It’s Cordelia’s voice this time.

I rush for the door and tug it open. “What are you talking about?”

I see Renata’s little boytoy, Luca, standing there beside Cordelia. “Anya has hold of Lorenzo’s gun, and she’s holding Renata at gunpoint!” Cordelia says breathlessly. “She won’t put it down until she sees you.”

“Please, hurry!” Luca says frantically.

“Fucking Vittoris,” I mutter. I turn to see Stella inching closer. “Stay here, lock the door behind me. I mean it, Stella.”

I rush forward into the hallway, slam the door shut behind me, and head off to find out which of the millions of possible reasons Anya has chosen as the appropriate one to threaten Renata Vittori’s life.