Page 34

I can still feel his lips seared against mine hours later. I kissed him. Again . Except this time he didn’t pull away, he didn’t back down, he didn’t make me stop. There was no invisible line we were crossing, and no fucking rules he had to force himself to follow. I kissed him and he let me, I kissed him and it was like every other kiss I have ever had in my life was erased completely. I became his, and I have been in a daze ever since.

The kiss could have lasted seconds, minutes, or hours, I’m not sure, but what I do know is that it was the most perfect kiss I’ve ever had. It wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t lacking passion, and there was no pressure for it to be more than a kiss. It was everything I had always wanted in a kiss, and somehow he has managed to become everything I have always wanted in a person. No prayers, no faith, no ring, just him.

I swear, even his mother could see the words written on my face as I sat by her side being pampered to within an inch of my life, and I couldn’t even enjoy her presence, because all I could think about was her damn son.

It was a surreal experience though, sitting with someone I have looked up to for years, listening to her talk to me like we had known one another forever, and I just wish my mom could have been there. A fact she must have seen written all over my face, because she asked me question after question about her, and for the first time since I lost her, I was able to talk about her with a smile on my face.

Now here I stand, looking at myself in the mirror and not recognizing the woman who is staring back at me. And it isn’t the professionally done makeup that has me looking like I am ready to walk a red carpet, or the sleek waves of my Hollywood glam-styled hair falling down my back perfectly. It isn’t even the soft pink silk gown I pulled from the collection Alexander picked out for me. No, it’s just me. My eyes no longer look lost and unsure, my smile is no longer sad and dim, and my shoulders aren’t hunched under the weight of other people’s pressure.

I look different, beautiful even, and it’s all because of him.

Just as I have that thought, Alexander walks into his closet with his focus on his phone, but when he looks up and meets my eyes in the mirror, he freezes, staring at me slack-jawed. Of course he looks beyond perfect in his black tuxedo, his blond hair perfectly tousled and effortlessly styled, but all I can focus on is the way he is looking at me.

“Aubree, I…” he trails off, bringing his hand to his heart, and he starts to walk toward me, and suddenly it’s too much, and I need to lighten the tension.

“You look stupid in that suit,” I blurt, and he pauses slightly, before a smirk spreads across his mouth.

When he reaches me, his hands find my hips instantly, his fingers flexing against me like he still can’t believe he is allowed to touch me. “Come on now, love, no one likes a liar,” he purrs, pressing his lips to the side of my throat, and I fight against my shudder.

“I thought that insulting each other was our thing,” I whisper, and he looks utterly delighted that we have something as great as ‘things’ between one another.

“Then come back into my room, Trouble, and I'll insult you as many times as you like,” he commands, still trailing his lips against my skin, and I can feel him everywhere.

“Just tell me I look hideous or something,” I demand, still so out of my depth with the full weight of his attention on me, and he pulls back with a laugh.

“Okay, you look disgusting,” he claims, turning me toward him and pulling me against him once more. “It’s sickening actually how awful you look. In fact, I should rip this dress right off you and save you from the wicked fate of anyone but me seeing you in it,” he adds, pressing possessive kisses along my jaw, and for a second I’m almost tempted to let him do it, but then I remember what tonight is for.

“Ah ah, hands to yourself,” I tell him with a quick shove. “I’m not missing going to a Striker party, my mother would rise from the dead and kill me,” I joke, and I see him pause, tilting his head as he looks at me with a smile.

It takes me a second to realize the joke I made, and I wait for the weight of grief to slam into me and take me down, but for the very first time it doesn’t make my knees buckle.

“You look stunning, Aubree, and I don’t have to believe in any god to know that your mother can see you right now, and agrees with her future son-in-law,” Alexander replies with a proud smile, holding his arm out for me to take, and I accept it with a smile as he begins to lead us out of the room.

“Future son-in-law, huh?” I repeat with a laugh, and he shrugs with an arrogance only he could achieve.

“We both know I’m a better bet than the pastor, love,” he jokes with a wink, and now it’s my turn to smile.

“Yes, you really are.”

The party is unlike anything I have ever seen. We arrived in a black town car alongside Alexander’s parents, and the second we stepped out of the car, cameras were flashing in our faces. Alexander had warned me prior to our arrival what it would be like, but nothing could have prepared me for the reality. Reporters were screaming at us to look this way and that way, questioning who I was and if the heir to the Reign throne had finally settled down. It was intimidating and totally insane, and Alexander kept me locked by his side the entire time.

Inside was no better, with Sinclair being the guest of honor, we were hounded the second we stepped inside, and the most pressing question on everyone’s lips was who did her son bring with him. Again Alexander didn’t leave my side, guiding us to the bar in the corner as soon as we could escape the crowd, and that’s where we have been ever since.

“I can’t believe this is your life,” I muse, sipping my glass of champagne, not missing the multiple women lusting after my date, but of course he doesn’t notice a single one of them.

“Fun right? Although I think I prefer church now,” he replies sweetly, eyeing me over the rim of his glass with a knowing look, and I almost choke on my drink.

“Alexander,” I curse his name, flicking my stare around, but of course he only chuckles, before his eyes flick over my shoulder and he groans, placing down his drink.

“Incoming,” he mumbles beneath his breath, and before I can ask what that means, he is pulling me against him and turning me around, just as we are joined by three ridiculously handsome men. “Well, good evening, Kings, to what do I owe this royal pleasure?” Alexander drawls by way of greeting, and the more serious looking one of the three frowns, as the other two roll their eyes.

“Don’t be a prick, Alexander,” the grumpy one replies, holding out his hand.

“Don’t be a wanker, Paxton,” Alexander snaps back, shaking it, and then they both smirk. “Joey, Finn,” he adds, greeting the other two with another handshake, before adding, “Where’s the poor pretender and the psycho?”

The one he called Joey laughs. “Wren is out hunting down our lost queen like always, and Theo is lurking around here somewhere,” he replies dryly, before moving his focus to me. “And who is this lovely specimen?”

I open my mouth to introduce myself, but Alexander pulls me against him even tighter. “Someone out of your league, so avert your fucking eyes,” he snaps, and now all three of the men smile.

“Aubree Callows,” I jab Alexander in the ribs with my elbow as I introduce myself, and all three of them smirk. “How do you three know Alexander?” I ask, looking between them all, and I see the second they shut down a little, so I don’t expect an answer.

Yet of course Alexander doesn’t seem to care, because he doesn’t even hesitate in giving me an answer. “I told you I was in a secret society once,” he shrugs, gesturing between the three of them. “Meet some of the members of The Kinghood,” he adds, and I swear one of them groans at his candor, and I can’t help but choke out a laugh.

“Okay, well, how about I let you four catch up for a moment,” I start, turning back to Alexander. “I’m just going to use the restroom,” I tell him, and he puts down his drink as if he is going to join me, but I stop him. “It’s okay, I know where it is, I’ll be back in a minute okay?” I say gently, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips, and as I move to pull away, he drags me back, deepening the kiss, audience be damned.

When we pull apart, I look at him and he smirks knowingly. “Three minutes, Trouble, and counting,” he winks, before releasing me, and I walk away in a daze, as I hear him add to the guys, “Eyes off my fucking girl.”

A warm feeling spreads through me as I make my way through the crowd, until I find the bathroom and push inside, but then instantly stop in my tracks when I find another ridiculously attractive man. He is leaning on the marble vanity with two pills lined on top of it. His eyes flick up when I enter, giving me a quick once over and a nod of his head, before he adds another pill next to the first two.

“Oh, sorry,” I stutter, before trailing off, ensuring I am in fact in the right restroom, before I add, “Erm, should you really be doing that here?”

His dark eyes flash back up to meet mine and they are filled with amused kindness, but also something else I can’t quite place. “Don’t worry, they’re not illegal pharmaceuticals,” he muses, placing the first one on his tongue and using the whiskey in his hand to swallow it down with. “Not tonight anyway,” he adds blandly without emotion, and I laugh a little, uncertain as to whether I should leave or not.

He doesn’t look dangerous or give off a bad vibe or anything, but I can tell there is something wrong with him. So I take a gentle step forward and reply, “No, I meant because this is the women’s restroom.”

That pulls a soft chuckle from him as he tosses down the next pill and looks at me sternly. “Have you ever been in a men’s restroom?” he asks, waiting for my answer, and I slowly shake my head. “Good, don’t, even at a party as expensive as this one they are still completely vile,” he adds with a shudder, swallowing the third pill and finishing off his drink. “I’m Theodore Wells,” he introduces himself, holding out his hand, and I take it, but before I can respond, he continues, “You’re Aubree Callows, right? Reign’s girl?”

I blink back a little in surprise as he releases my hand. “Erm, yeah, I am. How did you know that?” I ask with a nervous laugh.

“Insomnia, I know everything,” he replies with a causal wave of his hand, as if the two are somewhat related.

“Are you a King by any chance?” I dare to ask, wondering if Theodore Wells also goes by Theo, and now I get my first real reaction from him, as a knowing smirk flashes across his mouth.

“Ah, my reputation precedes me,” he winks, straightening his jacket, before offering me a tip of his head. “Anyway, I’ll wait outside for you,” he declares, striding from the room before I can ask what he means, and then I am left alone and completely bewildered. Still, I quickly do what I need to do, washing my hands, and checking over my appearance, and sure enough when I exit the bathroom, Theo is there waiting. “Shall we?” he offers, holding out his arm for me to take, the same way Alexander did earlier.

I smile in confusion, but still take his arm and allow him to lead me back to the guys, and as soon as Alexander spies us approaching, he looks ready to lose his mind. “Theo?” he greets him, his voice holding an edge of warning that confuses me, as he reaches out and steals me from him instantly, only making my new friend smirk.

“Alexander, how’s my favorite hockey goalie?” Theo asks, looking amused, as he joins the three other Kings. “Word on the street is you have a little stray dog problem,” he adds, flicking his stare between us both, and I feel Alexander tense against me.

“Been flirting with the Duchess again?” Alexander grits, tightening his hold on me.

“Only when I’m bored,” Theo yawns, pulling out his phone just as the other three do too. “Anyway, give your mother our best, but if you’ll excuse us, we have something that needs our attention,” he gestures to all of the men beside him, before reaching for my hand and dropping a kiss to the back of it. “Miss Callows, until we meet again,” he teases, tossing Alexander a wink, before all four of them disappear into the crowd.

I open my mouth to ask Alexander more about them, but he is already spinning me toward him and checking me over. “Are you okay?” he asks, clearly worried, but I nod my head.

“Of course I’m okay. I like your friend by the way, he’s funny and sweet, in his own way,” I laugh, thinking about our interaction, and Alexander blinks back a little, before shaking his head and signalling for another drink.

“Aubree, only you would call a diagnosed psychopath sweet,” he breathes, loosening his bow tie. “You really are trouble,” he adds with a laugh, passing me a fresh glass of champagne.

“Well, I’ve been sleeping with you, so clearly there must be something wrong with me,” I reply sweetly, and his stare locks on mine and turns dark.

“Just wait until you fuck me, love,” he warns darkly, lowering his voice as his lips ghost against my ear. “Then the only thing wrong with you is that you won't be able to walk.”

“Hmm, promises, promises.”

The rest of the party passes in a blur of drinking, dancing, and being introduced to more people than I have ever met in my life, until Alexander decides he has shared me long enough and calls for the car to take us home.

“Aren’t we going to wait for your parents?” I ask, as he leads me back outside, the paparazzi having thankfully dwindled.

“No, they will probably be gone all night knowing them,” he replies mindlessly, opening the car door for me.

“All night?” I ask in disbelief, as he slides in beside me and closes the door, signaling to the driver that we can leave.

“Yes, where do you think I get my wild ways from?” he winks, and I roll my eyes, but then delight as he slides his hand onto my thigh to curl my fingers with his own, as if he’s done it a hundred times before.

And the crazy thing is, it feels like he has. There was no point today where anything felt awkward, not when I met his parents, not when we kissed, not when we danced at the party. No, it all felt natural, as if it were exactly what we were meant to be doing, and I can’t help but tighten his fingers between my own.

Alexander forces the driver to stop for pizza on our way home, which we drunkenly share, and by the time we get back to the penthouse and make our way to his room, I am feeling happier than I thought possible, especially given the last year, but that’s just what he does. He makes everything better, he makes me better, and I can’t help but watch him as he moves to his desk and starts getting undressed.

His bow tie has already been completely loosened and hangs free around his neck, so first goes his watch. He unbuckles it and lays it flat on the wood, before emptying his pockets of his phone and wallet, laying them beside it. Next it’s his cufflinks, unfastening them and tossing them with his other things, before he shrugs out of his jacket and folds it over the chair. I remain rooted in the spot by his bed, watching as his deft fingers start to unfasten the buttons on his shirt. The four at his wrists first, before he moves to the ones at his collar, and I swear I can feel my heartbeat in my throat.

A feeling that is only intensified when his shirt falls open, revealing not just his toned torso, but a small, delicate and familiar gold ring hanging on a chain around his neck. My purity ring. He’s wearing my purity ring . It shouldn’t thrill me in the way that it does, not given the reason I wore it in the first place, and especially not given the reason I took it off, but it does. He claimed me, claimed my ring, and now he’s wearing it.

“Gonna need you to stop staring at me like that, Trouble,” his teasing voice cuts into the silence, and my eyes snap to his, finding him watching me watch him.

“Like what?” I ask innocently, pretending he didn’t just catch me practically drooling over him.

“Like you want to see me naked,” he states matter of factly, turning to lean on his desk, as his fingers reach down and slowly begin to unbuckle his belt.

“Nothing I’ve not seen before,” I breathe, unable to take my eyes off him, so desperate for another look at him even though I know it will take my breath away. “In fact, it was a little lacking in my opinion,” I add with a shrug, and his stare darkens with a flirty smirk.

“Careful now, or I might think that wicked mouth of yours needs to be punished.” He pushes up off his desk and slowly starts to make his way toward me, and I know why, he’s testing me, testing the situation.

We’re alone in his room with no barriers left between us, and yet still I know he would stop if I wanted him to, but it’s too late for that.

“Maybe it does,” I reply, tracking every step he takes, as he closes the distance between us, my heart now working overtime in my chest.

“Hmm, is that right?” he asks, as he reaches me, one of his hands finding its new found place on my hip, while the other grazes my throat, as he uses his thumb to tip my head back. “And tell me, my little sinner, should I punish it with my mouth, or my cock?”

His words are gritted against me, sending a shudder down my spine as he claims my lips with his, kissing me like it might be the last thing he ever does. It’s harsh, brutal, and nothing like the one we shared earlier. No, this one has intent now, it has purpose, it tells me that he’s waited long enough, and he’s ready to take something more. Which is good, because after everything he has given me, I’m ready to give him so much more in return.

I pull back and drop to my knees, relishing in the way his hand stays hooked around my throat, his thumb moving to brush against my now swollen lips. “Cock it is,” he grunts, reaching for his belt and pulling it out of his pants in one quick swoop, tossing it aside without care.

Then I watch as he unfastens his pants, shoves them down and releases himself, fisting his cock in his hand and giving it one smooth, long stroke, coaxing himself to life. My eyes leave his and drop to his impressive dick, not that I have anything to compare it to, but I can’t imagine a world where anyone else’s cock is better than Alexander Reign’s.

It’s long, too long , with a prominent vein running along the bottom that I imagine tracing with my tongue. “Oh my god,” I breathe, licking my lips, as I watch him slide his hand up and down himself, swiping his thumb across his crown and spreading some of the precum there.

“What did I tell you about that name, Aubree,” he warns, releasing himself instantly, and pressing his wet thumb against my lips. “Hmm, maybe I really do need to punish this mouth.” He pairs his words with shoving his thumb against my tongue, pressing it down against it until I can taste him, and I have no choice but to suck him gently. “Good girl,” he breathes, watching me closely, before pulling back and adding, “but it’s too late to be good now, little sinner.”

He keeps his eyes on mine as he reaches out to his bedside table to grab something, bringing it back to his cock, and it’s only when I look down again that I find him wrapping something familiar around his cock. My black rosary beads . My eyes snap back to his, and he is watching me knowingly, as he begins to jerk himself with my beads.

“Let’s see how well you can call out to your god with my cock in your mouth, Trouble, now open wide.” I obey him instantly, so transfixed on the sight of my holy beads against the smooth skin of his shaft that I can’t help it, and he uses the distraction to press the tip of himself against my tongue. He still strokes the bottom of his shaft with the beads, as he adds, “Come on, Trouble, suck me into that pretty mouth like I have been desperate for.”

With his guidance my mouth closes around his crown, sucking gently, before pulling back and swirling my tongue around him like a lollipop. “Like this?” I ask, desperate to please him, and his free hand snaps out and fists the back of my hair, guiding my mouth back to his cock.

“I said suck, not talk, love, I’ve had enough of your sass, don’t you think?" he warns, guiding my lips around his length, and I suck him once more back into my mouth, taking him a bit further this time. “Mm, that’s it,” he praises, watching me fiercely as I move my lips up and down his length, wetting his shaft with my spit, and then I reach up my hand and take over for him, jerking his base with the beads. My eyes snap back to his again, searching for his approval, and he nods keenly, his fingers flexing at the base of my skull. “Look at you, so desperate to please me, I knew you’d be fucking perfect,” he grunts, snapping his hips, shoving himself a little more forcefully against my tongue, and it feels fucking insane.

Is this what I’ve been missing? Is this what it’s like to be driven mad with need for someone? It certainly feels like it. I work my hand and mouth in tandem, studying every hitch of his breath to try and learn what he likes, and he guides me with praise after praise, and suddenly falling from faith has never felt so damn good.