Ravenous Kingpin (Kingpins of the Syndicate #4)

28. Emory

CHAPTER 28

Emory

A s soon as the car took off and we were swept outside the city, Killian broke the silence.

“What did he mean by that?”

I glanced at his strong fingers gripping the steering wheel.

“You’re going to have to be a bit more specific,” I said, wondering how long he eavesdropped before making his presence known.

“About your father,” he gritted out. “Taking you away. Why did he take you away? What did he do?”

I lowered my eyes to my hands folded together in my lap. “He sterilized me.”

My whispered words filled the space of the small car, yet it was as if I had shouted them. It was the first time I had spoken them out loud since it happened.

“He did what ?”

There was an edge to his voice and his hands started to shake.

“He sterilized me,” I repeated, something about finally saying those words easing the weight off my chest after six long years.

“Why?”

I shrugged. “He was a cruel bastard.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Emory.” He kept his voice quiet, but there was no mistaking the rage in it. “I want honesty from you. He did it because he found out you slept with me.”

“He never learned who it was.” It was the closest to the truth I dared to go. He wouldn’t have learned about my indiscretion if I hadn’t gotten pregnant.

“Was he the one who put the announcement in the paper?”

I shook my head. “No.”

He shot me a dark look. “You did.” I nodded. “Why?”

It was so complicated, yet so simple. How could I go about it without revealing too much?

“Once I learned your name, I would often look you up,” I admitted quietly. “I was able to do it without leaving a trace. When I saw you were also looking for me, refusing to give up even after months of searching, I worried…”

Ding. Ding. Ding.

I glanced at my screen and found three more pings on my name search, and they all led to the same IP address.

Killian Brennan Cullen.

Grabbing my phone, I slid it open and read through the data pouring in. For the first time since my self-diagnosed postpartum depression hit, I felt my heart shudder and my eyes widen.

Killian had my portrait drawn and was now actively scanning facial recognition software in hopes of identifying me.

But then my heartbeats shattered one by one, sending a new raw ache through my chest.

My vision blurred as I watched the screen as the first tear dripped onto it. Soon, they flowed like the dam had broken.

I knew what I had to do, but it felt like giving him up all over again. It felt like being left with nothing.

But I knew it had to be done in order to keep him alive.

So for the first time ever, I reached out to Priest for a favor.

I need a favor that nobody can know about. Not even my brother. Please put this in the online obituary along with my photo and have it appear only to the IP address I send you.

Em Amara.

Forever gone.

But never forgotten.

Amara was my middle name, and Em was the name I’d only given Killian. It would be enough, along with my photo, to convince him of my death so he’d stop searching for me.

When I received Priest’s confirmation, nausea rolled in my stomach and my heart clenched with a physical ache that felt like it would never heal. I was left with the emptiness that expanded until it threatened to eat me alive.

And then I started bawling, crying for the girl that I was. I cried for what could have been but never would be. I cried for the woman I would become.

I cried until I was cold and empty again.

But at the end of it all, I had decided one thing. Some way, somehow, I would become stronger and more powerful than my father.

And then nobody would stop me.

“Continue,” Killian encouraged, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“I worried my father would kill you. He was desperate to find out who… deflowered me.” I looked down to my hands to find them twisted, my knuckles white. “He would have killed you. So, to ensure your safety and my own, I posted that announcement so you would stop searching.”

The silence that followed was deafening. It stretched and stretched, like a rubber band ready to snap.

“Emory,” he finally said, his voice soft. “Look at me.”

I turned my head to meet his gaze. “Yes?”

“You’re my wife. You have no secrets from me.” I scoffed, but there was no merit behind it. “I appreciate you protecting me, but don’t ever fucking do it at the cost of yourself. I’ll always have your back, even when you’re wrong, but don’t keep secrets from me.”

In the past six years, I’d hardened myself and learned not to let my emotions affect me. Yet, as if they’d been bottled up for too long, my body started to tremble. My eyes stung with unshed tears. I wanted to agree. I wanted to tell him about our daughter.

But I didn’t dare trust him wholly.

I’d give him my body, my mind, and my soul. My heart…? I didn’t know how to get there.

“Emory, don’t you trust me?” I released a deep sigh, returning my eyes to the road, the lights of his manor appearing in the distance. Trust was such a precious thing to me, and he hadn’t earned the slightest shred of it.

On one hand, I couldn’t fault him for it because I hadn’t really given him a chance, but on the other, he couldn’t even fathom the emotions I had to work through after my own father betrayed me. The feelings of utter despair and rage after he took my— our daughter away.

“Emory,” he growled. “Answer me.”

“You didn’t exactly ask me to marry you, did you?” I ended up answering with my own question.

It was pointless to blame him for anything, but it was the only way to shield my heart. The man thought me dead, but the irrational part buried deep down was mad at him for believing it. Just as I was mad at myself for not reaching out to him and asking for help.

The fact of the matter was nobody could save me and my daughter from my father. And if I would have reached out to him, my brother, or cousins, they would have been punished worse than me.

“Why didn’t you call me? You had my number. I would have come for you.”

“I already told you.” I shook my head sadly. “I didn’t want anyone else’s blood on my hands.”

We arrived at his mansion and he turned his head, his deep blue eyes searching mine.

“You want to know why I didn’t ask you to marry me?” My heart tripped over its own beat, and I nodded. “Because I was scared you’d say no. Because I want you so desperately that I’d kill every living thing on this planet just to have you. Because I didn’t want you to slip through my fingers again.” A muscle in his jaw twitched with the tension as he uttered his admission. “I fucking crave you, and I hadn’t been breathing or living without you for the past six years. And believe me when I say it has nothing to do with who you are. I don’t want your fucking seat at the Syndicate.” So he pretty much heard all of my and Basilio’s conversation. “Although, I’d love to help you if you ever need to brainstorm, and I have no problem running my business ideas by you. You’re smart and beautiful. Any man would be lucky to have you. But you’re mine.”

There was a crazed look in his eyes. Without seeming to realize it, he put his hand on my thigh, and his other hand reached for the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His eyes filled with lust, resembling that of a hungry wolf. Then he kissed me, mashing his lips against mine and shoving his tongue into my mouth.

He pulled away, leaving me breathless and wanting more.

“Now tell me you’re all mine,” he murmured against my lips.

I’d be lying if I said his possessiveness left me feeling flat or repulsed. Weirdly, it was such a damn turn-on and did nothing but make me horny.

I met his burning gaze and smiled seductively before saying, “Only if you get me to bed right now and fuck me. Show me how much I’m yours.”

In a blink, he was out of the car and at my door, dragging me out of it and scooping me up into his arms. Like some doting lover, he carried me bridal-style, stopping every so often to devour my mouth, uncaring if any of his guards saw him smitten.

And something about that made me melt.

Me.

Emory DiLustro Cullen, melting into a puddle with things shuddering in my chest. On one hand, I didn’t want to be that naive girl from six years ago who dreamt of love, marriage, and a loving home, but on the other, I couldn’t control the overwhelming feelings bursting within me.

The need for him. The need for more. The urge to just let go.

On top of the stairs, he stopped again, trailing kisses over my jaw before he resumed his path to our bedroom.

He kicked the door open with his foot and had me pressed against the wall in seconds, the action reminding me of that night back in London.

“Understand this, Emory.” His mouth was so close to mine that I could feel his breath. “You and me… this… it’s for life. There are no other options for me. You’re it.”

His savage touch and words turned the temperature in my body up a notch.

“Ditto.” I hissed a breath before grabbing his face in my hands and kissing him with a desperation that might’ve scared me if I’d paused to consider it.

Every ounce of his body radiated heat. I thrust my fingers into his hair, gripping it hard as our tongues collided in the centuries-old dance. We both gasped for air, and then he pushed me back on the bed.

His body shifted away from me as he got to his knees, and I reached for him. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” He grabbed a pillow and slipped it underneath my back. He hovered over me, his chest rising and falling heavily. “The king’s horses couldn’t pull me away from you.”

He made quick work of stripping me down, carefully unlacing my corset and disposing of my dress until I was left only in heels.

His gaze trailed over my body, caressing every inch of my skin. He seemed to be making a decision on what to touch first, eventually settling on my pussy and rubbing my clit. My head rolled back as my core throbbed to life. Then slap. My whole body jolted, but before I could find the words to snap at him, he rubbed my swollen clit tenderly.

“Look at you, so needy for your husband’s cock.” He hovered over me, his knees on either side of my hips.

“Or maybe it’s you who needs my pussy,” I retorted in a raspy tone.

He slapped my pussy again.

“Are you trying to get smart with me, wife ?”

I jerked. Fuck, was that supposed to feel this good? His fingers thrust into my pussy, and I moaned, my body shuddering. But I hadn’t lost my wits about me. Yet.

“You did say you liked me being smart,” I pointed out, whimpering as pleasure built.

“Smart, yes.” The sound of his zipper echoed in the air, and soon his cock sprang out eagerly. “Smart-ass, no.”

He shifted his position, still hovering over me but now his knees were on either side of my head as he grabbed a fistful of my hair. Not hard, but firm enough to hold me in place. “Maybe I should fill your mouth with my cock.”

My lips parted in shock while my thighs ached, languid heat blossoming in every inch of my body.

He thrust his cock inside my mouth, hitting the back of my throat, and then stilled, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss. I stared up at him, tears welling along my lids but unwilling to blink. The expression on his face was a sight to behold.

He opened his eyes, our gazes clashing.

“Can you handle me fucking your mouth?” A muffled agreement, then he pulled out only to thrust in again. “Relax your throat,” he grunted, and when I obeyed, he rewarded me with praise. “That’s it, álainn . You’re taking it so well. Do you like this?” I gagged and spluttered on his cock as he thrust his hips forward, deep. Without a warning, he pulled out, saliva clinging to my lips. He barely allowed me a breath of air before driving back in.

His fingers still in my hair, he steered my head and fucked my mouth, dominating me and using me. And I let him, moaning around his hard cock.

“Is your pussy wet for me?” he asked in a guttural voice.

My inner thighs were slick with arousal, throbbing painfully with need. My hips jerked, searching for his touch. So I reached a hand between my legs, rubbing my drenched clit furiously.

Pleasure built and built, but before I could come, Killian released the grip on my hair and slapped my hand away.

“Nooo,” I whimpered, my voice muffled with my lips still around his cock.

“You’ll come with my cock inside your pussy.”

He pulled out, settling between my parted legs, and with one powerful thrust, he filled me to the hilt. Pleasure blazed a path through me and I came instantly, my whole body jerking and shuddering. My eyes rolled in the back of my head, and all the while, Killian continued fucking me hard and fast.

He grunted words of affection, but I couldn’t hear him clearly from the ringing in my ears as a languid sensation pulled on my muscles. He continued thrusting, hitting all my sensitive spots again and again.

When I thought I might come again, he pulled out and flipped me over on my stomach, wrapping his arm around my middle and pulling me up so I was on all fours.

He knelt behind me and then I felt his fingers parting my ass cheeks, dragging my arousal from my slit to my back hole. My head whipped around, looking at him over my shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Owning all your holes.” He flashed me a smile as he gripped his cock in his hand, nuzzling it against my ass cheeks, hard, thick, and hot. “Hmmm, the thought of it excites you.”

“No…” Yes.

He let out a dark chuckle. “Your clenching cunt and ass tell me otherwise.”

And with that, he parted my ass cheeks and pushed the crown of his cock inside me.

“Oh my fucking God,” I screamed, tears smearing my face. My head fell forward, my forehead resting against the cool sheets that smelled of us.

“Fuck, Em,” he grunted. My nails dug into the palms of my hands and I turned back to look at my husband’s face. “You’re taking my cock so good.”

He reached a hand down and circled my clit, replacing the sting of pain with pleasure as he inched his way in until he was fully seated.

“Killian,” I gritted, the pleasure overwhelming.

“You’re doing so good.” His voice was a dark rasp at my back. “Relax for me, wife.”

He circled my clit harder and faster, stimulating me, and soon the pain was completely gone. I pushed my ass against him and he started to move, his torturous pace now something I could lose myself in.

He slapped my ass as he growled, “I fuck you. Not the other way around.”

Jesus Christ, this man!

Then he started to fuck me. His flesh slapped against mine, and when he reached around and pushed two fingers into my pussy, I screamed. The sensation of being filled so deliciously overwhelmed me.

“You wish,” I breathed, pushing my ass back against him.

His hand came to grip my hip, his fingers sinking into me. The grunting sounds, moans, and slapping of his groin against my skin filled the space.

Every muscle in my body quivered and my heart was about to fall out of my chest. His pace was maddening and harsh. And I liked it, every bit of it .

The moment he removed his fingers and brushed them against my clit, I screamed, coming again and without restraint. I strangled his cock, and soon the force of my orgasm pulled Killian with me.

I sprawled on the mattress, completely exhausted and sated, Killian’s breaths heavy against my ear and his chest pressing into my back as I fell asleep.

A rustling startled me awake.

I took a moment to reorient myself, stretching and rubbing at my eyes. And then a breath whooshed out of me but got stuck in my throat when I spotted Killian roaming our bedroom, wearing nothing but a pair of navy-blue pajama pants.

“What are you doing up?” I asked. When his face focused on me, it scrunched with worry. “Are you okay?”

He inhaled a deep breath before releasing it. “Yes, I’m fine.”

He was silent for a heartbeat, or maybe five, his sharp jaw flexing as if he were upset. I slid off the bed and padded across the cold hardwood, inching closer to him and placing my fingers on his chest. “What’s bothering you?”

“I have guns hidden all over the house,” he said, and I had to blink several times to clear away the fog.

“Why are you telling me that? Now of all times.”

“Because I trust you.” The sincerity in his voice and eyes confirmed his words. “Because I’m worried whatever secrets you’re keeping will get you killed. So I needed you to know.”

I stroked a finger over his cheeks and he leaned into my touch. Lately, I’d been wondering how our life might’ve been if I hadn’t slipped out of his room six years ago. If I’d stayed. But I knew thinking that way would only cause me to spiral.

“I won’t let anything happen to us.”

There was something vulnerable in his eyes, as if he was scared he’d wake up and I’d disappear. Truthfully, I was scared too, because I didn’t want to lose whatever this was.

We’d fallen into an odd routine that felt so good and so real that it terrified me. There were strings connecting us, and I worried that once they were cut, there would be nothing but scars left behind.

I rose on my tiptoes and brushed my lips against his briefly, letting myself taste him on my tongue, before he pulled away.

“See that table by the foyer? There’s a Glock hidden underneath it. I have a similar table in every home I own. There’s one under the coffee table, each bedside table, in every red vase, and an AK-47 in the umbrella caddies by each set of doors. So if we ever get attacked, you grab a weapon and you run , Em.”

I scoffed, raising my chin. “I won’t leave you behind.”

“You fucking will leave me behind.” The heat of his body and his scent surrounded me as he took my face between his palms, his gaze boring into me, unblinking. “In life or death, I’ll find my way to you.”

Then he scooped me up and tucked me back into bed. He slid in behind me and we fell asleep with his heartbeat against my back and his hand on my chest and my heart.