Page 34 of Ruthless King (Mount Trilogy 1)
The punishment he promised me flashes through my brain, and he must read it in my expression. My orgasm is just within reach . . . and the vibrations stop.
“I don’t have time to deal with your naughty little cunt and fingers this morning, but I will. In my world, no one gets away with breaking my rules. I have a feeling you’ll learn quickly.”
My fingertips clutch the edge of the counter to keep myself from slapping the smug look off his face. Instead, I stand silently in front of him. Apparently, Mount doesn’t need or want words from me.
“Get out of my sight while I’m still inclined to let you. Other than using the bathroom, don’t you dare take it out without my approval. I promise you won’t enjoy the punishment if you do.”
I suck in a breath and bolt for the door to the bedroom. I round the side of the bed, grab the stilettos from last night and my trench coat, and practically run for the sitting room door that’s cracked open the barest inch.
Outside, Scar is waiting. Hood in hand.
I hate that fucking hood.
But right now, I hate Mount even more.
I rip the hood from Scar’s hand and put it over my head myself, and let him carry my rigid body out of my gilded cage.
Keira
As soon as we pull in the parking lot across the street from the distillery, Scar grunts for me to remove the hood. I ask him to wait and rummage through my purse, which thankfully was still in the car from last night. Surprisingly, he complies while I pull out my emergency makeup stash and bring some semblance of normalcy to my face.
The stilettos I have on from last night are fuck-me shoes of the finest—the most expensive shoes I’ve ever worn—and there is no way any of this outfit will go unnoticed. The fitted gold shirt hugs my curves and tucks into the pencil skirt that emphasizes my hips and ass way more than I’m comfortable with. The white string of pearls lies against my throat like a collar.
I will fucking kill him if he ever tries to put a leash on me.
I snap my compact closed once I determine I’m as good as I’m going to get, and too pissed off to do any better of a job on my makeup.
Plus, there’s the distraction of the high-tech version of Ben Wa balls inside me, and the knowledge that Mount holds the remote has my thighs practically slipping together from my body’s response.
The two warring parts of my brain can’t reconcile what’s happening to me.
How can I hate the man so much, and yet my body loves what he’s doing to it?
It’s a mystery I won’t solve in this parking lot. I reach for the door handle, but Scar stops me with a grunt and hands a note back to me.
* * *
If you tell anyone anything, you’ll be attending their funeral.
* * *
I crumple the note and toss it between the front seats. “Tell him his twisted secret is safe. For today, anyway.”
As soon as I utter the last word and shove open the door, the toy inside me buzzes to life for a
single instant, like a shock to correct an animal’s behavior. I jerk around, looking to see where he is. He has to be close, right? What is the distance on this thing?
Knowing Mount and the power he wields, it’s probably miles.
I fucking hate him.
I force myself to slide out of the car, my head held high and my shoulders straight, and walk across the street like absolutely nothing is out of the ordinary.
Certainly not like I’ve sold my body and my freedom to save my family’s legacy.
I nod at employees, smiling and greeting them like usual, hoping like hell they don’t notice anything different about me. The London Fog trench coat is something they’ve seen before. It’s what’s under it that will raise eyebrows.
As soon as I enter my office, Temperance pops out of the seat across from my desk, and my heart bangs against my ribs.
