Page 49 of Dirty King


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“It’s not your fault,” I said, taking his hand in mind. “You didn’t know any better, and I wanted it just as much as you did.”

“I forced you,” Kingston said, dropping his eyes in shame. “I can’t get that out of my head, if they found out about it.”

“They won’t find out,” I said. “And I can’t stop thinking about it, either. But I can’t stop thinking about how fucking hot it was, Kingston. About how much I’d like to do it again. With all of you. God, I think about it all the time until I get, I don’t know, what’s the word for girl blue balls?”

Valen chuckled and ran his hand down my back, settling it on the curve where he loved to touch me and I loved being touched. That was his signature move, being a comfort to me, but also conveying so much with just the weight of his hand on my body. Right now he was conveying comfort, but I could also feel the subtle tension in his fingers as he pictured me at the end of his cock, writhing and bucking with pleasure as he plowed my pussy.

And fuck, now I was thinking about that.

Kingston was right. It was dangerous to have me out here with them. Not because they were a threat to my safety, but because I was a threat to myself.

I couldn’t obey the rules of the Organization if I spent too much time with any one of these guys, let alone all four at once. The testosterone was so ramped up around me that it must be rubbing off, because I’d never felt this sexually excited before. I’d never looked at sex as an escape, a drug. Or maybe it was simply because I’d been drugged for years on whatever it was my mom had been giving me.

“I wish you’d recorded it,” Ryker said. “I wouldn’t mind knowing what you did to her that night.”

“He claimed her virginity before any of us had a chance to get close to it, is what he did,” Valen said, and his fingers tightened on my back. He was joking, but I knew it bothered him on some level.

“You greedy fuck,” Ryker said, but it was in good humor. I decided that was enough for the evening before it turned into anything but the light-hearted interplay we’d all been having until now.

I told Kingston to take me home, but not before kissing each of them carefully and taking my time before I said goodbye.

On the way out, I caught Sofia’s eyes on me, glaring like she wanted to murder me on the spot, and I heard her say, “Whore.”

I didn’t care, though. I felt too good and she was just a stupid little nobody. She didn’t have any power over my life anymore, and I loved the fact that she was still filled with envy and longing every time she saw Kingston and me hanging out.

So instead of reacting to her comment, I stopped, grabbed Kingston’s hand, and pulled him to me for an intense, dirty kiss. When we broke apart, Sofia’s face was blanched white with two bright red spots high on each cheek. Her friend Cassie was whispering in her ear and saying something about us, I could tell, but in the grand scheme of things, Cassie was even less important than Sofia.

We walked out to Kingston’s truck, he helped me in, and we headed back to our side of town. It felt strange that night, going from a place where I fit in just because of the clothes on my back and the shoes on my feet, all the way to the poorer section. The little street filled with houses that could fit inside a single room of the mansion we left.

And yet, I bet if the Organization wasn’t destroying the lives of the people inside, they were infinitely happier than the occupants of the mansions. It was something I’d learned recently, and something I’d never forget.

Kingston pulled into his driveway and parked. He shut off the truck and we sat in the silence, listening to the truck engine cool down and a neighbor’s dog barking somewhere in the distance.

“You look really beautiful tonight, Evie,” he said at last in a quiet voice. He was being sincere and bordering on solemn. “I wanted you to know that.”

“Thank you,” I replied. “You look really good, too.”

“I want you,” he said, continuing as if I didn’t speak, as if he had to get the words out before he couldn’t say them. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I lie awake in bed at night and think about you over there, so close but a world away from me. Fuck, it drives me crazy.”

“Me too,” I said quietly.

“But you know I think you’re beautiful, too. And funny. And so god damned smart. You’re not just somebody I want to fuck, Evie. You’re somebody I want to love. You’re somebody I do love.”

“I love you too,” I replied and he turned to me. He was so beautiful in the dim light of the street, with half his face in shadow, that I almost caught my breath.

I was going to say something more, something clever maybe. To break the tension and ease the pent up emotion between us.

But Kingston fucking Taylor leaned forward in one swift movement, caught the back of my head with his hand, and pulled me in for a kiss.

And I fell forward into it, I fell against his chest, against his mouth, and deep into the well of passion that he’d filled just for me.

I loved Kingston so much in that moment it felt like my heart couldn’t contain it. That’s where sex became something more, when your body couldn’t contain the love you had for somebody so you had to release it somehow. You had to share it and burn it off before the fire threatened to consume you and leave a blackened landscape in its wake.

But we couldn’t. We couldn’t risk what the Organization would do to me if they found out.

So we had to suffer with the pent up emotions, the hormones, and the teeth gnashing frustration of being so close and yet so far from somebody we loved.

I felt as if I was going to cross the line, though, when he reached out and cupped my breast through the thin fabric of my beautiful dress.

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