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THEO
It’s beena few weeks since I smashed King’s balcony door and every day has been the same since. We wake up together, since I’ve unintentionally decided to sleep in his bed every night. We fuck, argue, and bicker about something completely juvenile like we’re a couple of kids and it feels right. He then disappears into his office for hours to work, or whatever it is he gets up to, and I wonder about the house and the grounds. Rori has kept me company occasionally, but even after these past few weeks, she’s still sceptical of me.
Today I’m bored, walking through the house, dragging my feet until I find myself back in the same corridor I was in when I first left the cell King had put me in. I walk slowly, eyeing up the portraits again and stopping at the last one that nagged at me previously.
The portrait of the District families looks back at me, all with happy smiling faces. My focus is on Carlo Rhivers and his smug smile. He appears invincible, sitting in his throne-like chair with the rest of the families crowded around him.
I wait for the guilt to wash over me, but it never does. I’m not sure how me of all people ended up being the one responsible for the death of Carlo Rhivers when you have the likes of King, easily skilled to do such a thing.
But I’m not one to trick fate. I know how lucky I was.
My gaze travels to Emily and her smile that doesn’t seem to meet her eyes, her hand ever so gently resting on Carlo’s shoulder. I wonder what kind of woman she was.
Without too much thought, I flicker over to Edison Ramon and his second, not paying much attention to the tall, dark-haired men before looking at my parents.
My father’s arm is around my mother’s waist in a protective grasp, but knowing a little more about my father now, I wonder if it was more possession than protection.
My mum's smile is soft and beautiful, just like her. How she came to marry a District Leader is beyond me. I wonder if she knew her worth. I wonder if she and Emily were friends like my father claimed to be with Carlo.
Leaving the portrait behind, I head towards King’s office with a few of these questions on my mind. I’ve only been in King’s office a handful of times, but considering it’s where he spends most of his time, I know exactly how to find it in this mansion.
I hover outside the door and decide to walk in. We bickered this morning because I showered without him. I never denied our arguments weren’t petty, and I thought to argue over something like that was beneath him. But I seem to have a way of getting under his skin, and I like to push his buttons.
Deciding I’m in the mood to irritate him further, I push open the heavy door without knocking. I know how rude it is, especially because he’s working, and for one, if he ever did that to me, I would be fuming, but like I said, I want to get under his skin.
Without a care in the world, I stroll into the huge office and shut the door softly behind me, then turn to look at King.
He’s sitting behind his desk, working on his laptop whilst his phone is lit up next to him with a male’s voice coming through. It’s obvious he’s on a call and the death glare he’s giving me is enough evidence to know he’s still pissed at me.
I give him a soft smile and sit down in the large leather armchair opposite his desk.
King replies to whoever is speaking but doesn’t take his eyes off me. I scan the space, taking in the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, with books I know must’ve been Carlo’s because King doesn’t read, on both walls to my left and right and the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him overlooking the woods. It’s beautiful.
Especially with the scowling man sitting in front of them.
I listen for a while, getting bored of the conversation that has absolutely no relevance to me, and King’s eyes shine with humour when he realises my plan to bother him is only boring me.
I scan him up and down, taking in his shirt sleeves that are rolled up to his elbows, his inked arms a stunning piece of art on display. His few top buttons are undone, revealing more tattooed skin, and as my core clenches at the mere sight of his bare skin, a wicked idea comes to mind.
I stand up slowly, biting my bottom lip gently, and start to push the straps of my pink summer dress down my shoulders and arms. The scars are the faintest I’ve ever seen them, but since being with King, I’m not frightened of losing the memory of my mother once they fade. Nine years away from King is enough proof that memories will stay with you for a lifetime. And he was right, all those months ago, back in the shower at the prison when he’d asked me about them. The scars on my heart are what I’ll have left. I know that now.
King immediately realises what I’m doing and his scowl returns as he replies to whoever is on the phone.
I smirk as the dress slips down my body and pools in a heap at my feet. My naked body underneath catches King’s attention and he groans so softly, wiping a hand down his face. Walking over to him, I gently reach across the desk, my breasts taunting him as they brush across his bare arm, my nipples standing to attention.
I reach for his fedora that I love on him so much and stand up straight again, putting it on my head, then walk back to the armchair. King raises his eyebrows at me, watching my every move, his eyes roaming over every bit of my body he can see.
I sit down on the armchair and swing one leg over the armrest so I’m wide-open and bare for King to see everything. His eyes are wide and the guy on the phone calls out his name before King clears his throat and responds.
I suck on my fingers, then trail my hand down my body in slow, teasing strokes, rubbing my fingers over my pebbled nipples. I take a handful of my breast and tug on my nipple hard, a small gasp leaving my lips, extended for King’s benefit.
My hand travels south and I rub slow circles on my inner thighs, teasing him further, but the torture on myself is too much and the way he’s staring at me with hunger only spurs me on.
I swipe a finger through my folds and moan softly, my eyelids fluttering closed for a few seconds. Opening my eyes, I notice King trying to readjust himself in his trousers and a thrill shoots through me.
I take my hand away and lift his hat off my head and place it directly between my thighs, hiding my pussy from his eyes, and my hand disappears behind the hat to play with myself.
I rub slow circles across my clit, my legs jerk involuntarily every now and then, and my moans come out breathlessly. King’s gaze is blazing hot and if he wasn’t so turned on, I know he’d be cursing me out for taking away his show.
