Page 11 of The King of Hearts (The Raven Group #1)

CHAPTER SEVEN

HIM

T he shock on my Vicious’ face is mixed with heightened sexual desire. It’s a need she attempts to hide because she feels she should be ashamed of it, but it’s far too potent to control.

She lies on the bed, her body ramrod straight, and I’m sure her mind is all over the place. Wondering and waiting, reprimanding herself for the way her body feels and hating herself because she can’t make it go away. She wants me, even if she won’t openly admit it.

I lock my knees to keep from going to her.

To be this close, to breathe in her sweet apple scent, to see the luscious dips and curves of her body.

The way her tongue darts out to lick across her pink lips and the undeniable desire in her eyes…

it takes almost more control than I possess to keep from taking her.

I want to fuck her raw. To pound my cock so deep inside her she’ll forget what it’s like to be empty.

I want her delicious cunt wrapped around me, to see her blood coating my dick and smearing her soft thighs.

I want to watch tears pool from her eyes and ride rivers down her cheeks as I force her to take every thick inch of my cock.

The only thing keeping me in place and preventing me from tearing into her body is my nightly visits she doesn’t know about. That’s how I keep my sanity. It’s how I’ve kept it for the year I’ve been coming here and how I’ll continue to keep it until I can finally unleash my beast.

There’s been only one puzzle piece left, and after the time required, I’ve confirmed that it’s in place.

My wait is finally coming to an end.

I keep quiet, and so does Savina as she lies there in her childhood bed. I stand at the end of it, our eyes locked. I can see the wheels turning in her head with all of the questions she wants to ask, but other than the ones she already has, she keeps them to herself.

Despite the fear coursing through her and the arousal tingling over her skin, after a while, she begins to relax.

Her eyes lower, and her body sinks deeper into the mattress.

She fights for over an hour before the force of her fatigue wins out and her eyes drift closed.

I stay at the end of her bed for another hour, simply watching her sleep.

I could look at this woman for hours, days, and weeks at a time, and my eyes would never get tired.

Two hours after I ordered her into bed, I finally move from my position and walk to the side she’s closest to. She’s still on her back, her head rolled to the side with her lips slightly parted. Her breathing is light and even, her chest rising up and down.

I lay the tips of my fingers just above her ankle and slowly trace them up her leg. Her skin is soft and smooth, flawless, and I know just how good it tastes beneath my tongue.

When I reach her upper thighs, my nostrils flare when I encounter the glossy slickness of her arousal. I want to yank her knees apart and bury my face against her cunt, licking up every fucking drop of her essence.

But I don’t want her to wake. She’s not ready yet, despite her body’s reaction to me, and she’s not under the influence of my special drug.

I satisfy myself with dipping my fingers between her pressed-together legs. She’s so wet that they easily slide against her skin. I slip them between her folds and give her little clit a swipe. I do it gently and slowly.

When I remove my fingers and bring them to my face, they glisten with her juices. I flip up my mask to rest on the top of my head and slip them between my lips, groaning when her taste explodes on my tongue. She tastes like the apple body wash she bathes with, blended with her own unique flavor.

I let my fingers explore the rest of her body, lightly skimming them along her skin. When I reach her face, I lower myself until my mouth hovers above her parted lips. I lick her lips, letting my tongue slip past them until I touch her teeth.

One day soon, I won’t have to stop myself from plunging into her mouth. I’ll be able to do everything I’ve dreamed about doing to her for over a year.

Once my need to touch her has been somewhat satisfied, I grab the sheet and slip it up to her waist. The silk material won’t overheat her, but it’ll ward off any chilled air in the room.

With my cock as hard as granite, I leave my vicious angel and walk to her desk where my gift to her sits. Picking up the heart, I set it inside the box and replace the lid.

I can still hear Patrick’s scream in my ears and that shit makes my cock twitch. It felt fucking good sawing open his rib cage while he was still alive and carving out his heart. It gave me a high damn near as euphoric as touching Savina.

When I saw him near her earlier today at the coffee shop, heard the words he spewed at her, and witnessed him putting his hands on her, my vision didn’t cloud with red.

My blood didn’t heat with rage. Anger didn’t infuse inside me.

I didn’t break out into a sweat, and my hands didn’t itch to tear the man apart.

I fucking smiled.

There was no need for anger. I knew Patrick’s fate. It was a painful one, with his blood coating my hands and his cold, dead heart ripped from his chest.

I’m not usually impulsive. Each choice I make is well thought out and executed with precision.

My plans for Savina were no different. I had a timeline and certain things needed to happen before I made myself known.

Originally, I wasn’t going to reveal myself and inform her of her future until I was ready to place my full hand on the table.

But I deviated, shifted shit around, when I decided at the last minute to send her Patrick’s heart.

I wanted to see her reaction. To know just how corrupt and immoral her dark little mind ran.

She didn’t disappoint. I stood in the shadows of her room and watched as she picked up the heart and held it in her hands.

Understandably, when she first saw it, her face filled with revulsion and alarm, but after that initial reaction, her features relaxed with emotionless curiosity.

The other reason I sent it to her is because she needed to know just how depraved my obsession was with her. She needed to see the lengths I would go through, how fucking serious I was when I said she was mine.

Patrick Arlington wasn’t the first man I’ve killed for my vicious angel. Over the past two years, there’s been a handful of others. Ones she doesn’t know about. All men who thought they could touch what was mine or who thought they could disrespect her in some way without consequences.

I leave the box on her desk and let Loki out of the closet. I put him in there while Savina was in the shower. It goes to show just how distracted she was that she didn’t notice her cat wasn’t around. He curls around my feet a couple of times before dashing across the room and jumping on the bed.

I found Loki wandering my property a year ago.

I think he had some kind of infection because his eyes were crusted, and there was a greenish substance seeping from his nose.

I had zero knowledge on how to care for an animal, so I took him to the Rivers’ estate, knowing Savina would take him in and have him seen by the island’s vet.

I slip out through the balcony doors, closing them behind me. I’m not concerned that she’ll show her father the present I gave her tonight. Instinct tells me she won’t. She’s too intrigued to stop the game before it really begins.

It doesn’t matter if she does. Her father and brothers are smart, not to mention the resources Alexander has owning The Raven Group are vast, but they won’t be able to find the answers they seek if they come searching for me. I’m too good at what I do, and I don’t leave trails behind.

Even so, I pull out my phone and send a message, just to keep the person on the other end apprised of the situation.

I pull my mask the rest of the way off and sling it over the railing to fall to the ground below.

Walking to one side of the balcony, I scale the railing and grab the trellis beside it, mounted to the side of the house.

The trellis is a security oversight. One in which Alexander should have foreseen.

It gives perpetrators easy access to slip inside.

The house has a security system, but those can be overridden.

Case in point, when my feet are planted on the ground a moment later, I pull my phone from my back pocket, pull up what I need on the screen, then reset the alarm.

If it weren’t for my own security measures in place, I’d make Alexander aware of the risks.

But I am who I am—a man obsessed with a girl, one who won’t trust her safety with anyone except himself.